Playing for Kicks (Play Makers Book 5) (36 page)

On Monday the bar was semi-deserted, which
worked for her, since she had been up at dawn working on the Noah
re-write. He had divulged so many extenuating circumstances during
dinner—that the “free car” had actually been more of a loaner car;
that he had gone to the car lot that day with eleven hundred
dollars, honestly intending to buy something used, and feeling a
sense of urgency because of a hot date with a babe way out of his
league. The salesman had urged him not to make a hasty decision,
especially when the dealership had a demo vehicle just sitting
around gathering dust.

And if Noah didn’t mind a quick photo with
the salesman to impress friends and co-workers . . .

That alone would make a great story. Slick if
not downright predatory sales tactics aimed against a dumb kid.
Unfortunately, Noah still believed the salesman had been trying to
help. Plus, he didn’t want her making excuses, and calling it “just
a loaner” had that ring to it.

And wasn’t there an even bigger story? Noah
hadn’t had an advocate to advise him, but he took responsibility
for that, insisting he had just wanted it to be over quickly,
partly because it was so humiliating, and partly because the sooner
his suspension started, the sooner he could play again. A formal
process was available but would take more time and might even
result in a stiffer penalty, so he had simply signed his name to
any document they put in front of him.

She
had
to tell that story. If not to
the general public, then at least to Murf. And Jill. Because it was
a travesty.

But it would still sound like an excuse. An
attempt to evade responsibility. At least to Noah.

Frustrated, she turned her attention back to
the sleepy bar, reminding herself it was her job to
create
excitement if nothing was happening on its own. So she searched for
a re-run of
Hutch Hutchison’s
War Room,
knowing the
mouthy host could always piss someone off. Of course, that someone
was usually Colbee, but that could work, couldn’t it?

There were a handful of couples seated at
tables, munching on chips and salsa and nursing their drinks.
Dinner, probably. Victoria was taking care of them as well as two
solo guys at separate tables who had good views of the screens
without the need to socialize with anyone but their lovely
dark-haired waitress as they studied their smart-phone
displays.

The new bouncer lounged against a pub table,
flirting again, this time with two new women. Tess had to laugh.
Apparently he was considered good-looking, but all she saw was a
muscle-bound loafer. Still, he could take any guy in this bar with
one hand behind his back, so on a basic level he was doing his job
just by standing there looking buff.

There were a couple of solo guys at the bar
too—one drinking Irish coffee, one sipping a Manhattan. Each of
them had chatted with Colbee but clearly wanted to decompress from
a rough day at work, so she took good care of them but didn’t force
anything. She would leave that to the Hutch Hutchison show.

The only bright spot in the place besides
Victoria were the two brothers at the far end of the bar. She
called them the Crunch brothers because they were always crunching
stats. March Madness in the spring, fantasy football in the fall,
calculating their bets for every conceivable sports match
year-round, ranging from horse racing to tennis to boxing. They
were dead serious about their numbers, but with Colbee they were
also the sweetest guys in the world, insisting if it was legal for
a girl to have two husbands, they would have married her by
now.

She loved them like crazy but again, knew
better than to be a pest. They were here for some flirting, some
business, and their dream martinis—stirred, not shaken.

All in all, it looked like a long uneventful
night.

Then two semi-regulars came in and Tess
groaned under her breath. “Perfect.”

She didn’t exactly hate these guys, and since
they played for the Mariners they were good for business, but they
were definitely jerks. The alpha jerk, a guy named Zane, had a
habit of passive-aggressive flirting with Colbee. Zane’s minion, an
outfielder called Pound Dog, helped out by leering and by laughing
at Zane’s off-color jokes.

She could handle Zane’s type of guy more
easily in a crowd. One on one? It wore on her. Luckily, he and his
dog craved being recognized and solicited for group-selfies and
autographs, so they would turn around and leave when they saw how
dead Zone D was tonight.

Disproving her theory, Zane strode up to the
bar and said with a cocky grin, “Hey, Colbee. Did you miss me?”

“You guys played a great game on Thursday,”
she said sincerely.

“Forget about Thursday.
Today’s
the
day. Tell her, Pound Dog.”

The outfielder eyed Tess’s cleavage avidly.
“It’s Zane birthday. So free beer, right?”

“Absolutely, the first one’s on the house.
For both of you. What’ll you have?”

“You know what I like,” Zane told her
suggestively.

“Sounds like Miller time,” she agreed,
wondering if he knew what a loser he was. He and his buddy had been
drinking already and it showed. And so, just to be on the safe
side, she gave Victoria a quick wave, knowing she would get the
message.

Always discreet, the waitress brought her a
large order as an excuse to hang around. After Tess gave the
ballplayers their beers, she edged over to her friend and murmured,
“They’re half bombed already.”

“When aren’t they?” Victoria drawled. “They
won’t stay, though. Not enough attention, right? Unless the Crunch
boys want their autographs, and let’s face it, they’re too smart
for that.”

Tess nodded. “I’m hoping they get bored and
leave. But let Jerry know, okay? He should swing by a couple of
times. Like Rocky used to do. Unless he’s too busy doing
nothing.”

The waitress laughed. “But he’s so
good
at it. Makes you wonder what he did before
this—mattress tester?”

“Hey, puss,” Zane called across the bar. “I’m
ready for my birthday kiss.”

To Tess’s surprise, the older Crunch brother
said in a loud voice, “Her name is Colbee.”

“Yeah, it’s written on her tit,” Zane agreed.
“Have you been reading it? ’Cause that’s just bad manners,
a-hole.”

“Ugh.” Tess summoned a teasing smile and told
the ballplayers, “Sounds like you guys miss me. So let’s queue up
the highlights from Thursday’s game. Pound Dog? That line drive
must’ve burned a hole in your glove.”

“It was cool, right?” the minion said
proudly. “Yeah, let’s see it again,
puss.”

Tess shot a warning look toward the Crunch
brothers, hoping they wouldn’t try to defend her again. And
luckily, Jerry arrived at the moment and leaned against the bar,
which was exactly what Rocky would have done.

Relieved, she walked over to him and said,
“Thanks, Jerry. It’s under control, but it never hurts to remind
them we have a big, strong guy on the premises.”

He eyed her peevishly. “You ratted me out to
the boss? Thanks a lot.”

“What?” She sighed. “You left me here alone.
I needed someone to walk me to my car. But Ed admitted he didn’t
tell you it was part of your job, so it wasn’t your fault. Did he
hassle you?”

“Yeah, he hassled me. It was bullshit.”

“I’m really sorry, Jerry. It was just a
miscommunication.”

His scowl faded. “I figured your boyfriend
would pick you up. But yeah, if you’re alone sometimes, no problem.
I’ll walk you out.”

She wanted to remind him it was his job to
walk her out
every
time, but why bother? “I appreciate that,
Jerry. Thanks.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Those guys have had
a few too many. Can you let them know you’re on the case?”

“Is that Jonah Zane?”

“And Pound Dog Morton,” she confirmed.
“Luckily, you’re stronger than the two of them put together,
right?”

Jerry grinned as he flexed a bulging bicep.
“You know it, babe.”

Once Jerry had walked over to meet the
ballplayers, and hopefully intimidate them as well, Tess scurried
to the Crunch boys. “My heroes,” she said with a fond smile. “I’m
going to miss you guys so much.”

“If the old bouncer were here, that Zane guy
would be out on his ass.”

“Can you imagine?” Tess said, nodding. “Rocky
would’ve sent them to the moon with a single punch. But
please
don’t feel the need to defend me. Jerry gets paid to
do it.”

“You mean,
that
Jerry?” the younger
brother drawled.

Turning, Tess winced at the sight of her new
bouncer taking a group selfie with Zane and Pound Dog. “We think
they’ll leave soon,” she told the brothers. “Not enough action here
for such superstars, right?”

“More like washed-up losers,” the older
brother muttered.

“Be good and I’ll get you another round. On
the house.”

“That’s not necessary, Colbee. We’re your
friends.”

“Exactly. Now what was that again? Vodka,
right? Shaken not stirred?”

When they both chuckled at the anathema, she
smiled in relief and began making their gin martinis.
Stirred.

“Hey, puss,” Zane said, slurring the insult
either intentionally or because he was just too drunk to know
it.

Annoyed, especially because a glance toward
Jerry showed he had returned to his flirting station, she walked
over to the ballplayers. “Do you guys like Hutch Hutchison?”

“I like
you,”
Zane corrected her.
“Thaz why I hang out in thiz dive. And izz my birthday so you gotta
be egggstra nice.”

“Okay, Zane,” she said soothingly. “See that
guy over there? He’s having Irish coffee and it smells amazing.
Want to try one? On the house? Since it’s your birthday.”

“I wanna try
you,”
he insisted. “I
want my kiss.”

“Well, we have a no-kissing policy, so let’s
just settle down.”

“Or what? You think that bounzer can take
me?
A perfeshunal athlete?”

“I think you don’t want to find out. And
neither do I.” She glared at Pound Dog. “Take care of your
friend.”

“All he wants is a kiss,” the outfielder told
her with a shrug.

Tess stared him down for a few seconds,
disgusted, then turned toward the table area, ready to put a stop
to this once and for all. But of course Jerry was facing the wrong
direction so she couldn’t catch his eye. Luckily Victoria was a
different story. As soon as Tess waved, she nodded grimly and
stormed over to the bouncer.

Sweet.

Still, Tess wasn’t ready to give up, so she
gave the ballplayers one last smile. “Hutch Hutchison, anyone? I
heard there were lots of fireworks on Saturday’s show.”

To her surprise, Pound Dog slid off his stool
and walked toward the Crunch boys. The older brother reached for
his iPhone as if by instinct, but the ballplayer snatched it from
his hand, grinned at Zane, and stomped it on the floor.

“Stop that!” Tess ordered him angrily. From
the corner of her eye she could see Jerry hurrying over, which
meant things were finally under control, but still, her heart was
running wild in her chest.

Then Zane flashed an angry grin, placed both
palms on the top of the bar, and jumped over to Tess’s side,
landing within inches of her, his body suddenly
huge,
his
glassy eyes greedy with lust.

“Don’t,” she warned him, but her voice
sounded shaky and unfamiliar.

“Just relax, puss,” he told her, slurring
again as he took hold of her wrist.

“Hey!” Jerry shouted from a safe distance
away. “Get your hands off her!”

“Yeah? Fuck you, ash-shole.” Yanking Tess
against himself, he plastered his mouth over hers with a harsh mix
of slobber, tongue, and beer.

Stunned by the rough treatment, she pushed
against his chest and he stumbled back a step, then grabbed her
again, harder this time, his expression furious as he pulled her
roughly back into position.

Then a new voice shouted with authority,
“Police! Get off her, asshole.”

Zane froze. “You called the cops? Sheez,
Colbee . . .”

“Get away,” she whispered, pushing against
his chest again. “Just get away.”

The cop vaulted the bar as athletically as
Zane had. “You okay, miss?”

“I’m f-fine. Thank you.”

While he grabbed Zane by the collar, another
officer came through the bar lift with Victoria and rested his hand
on Tess’s shoulder. “You okay? We got here quick as we could.”

“Thank you. There’s another one over there.
He threatened my friend and broke his phone.”

“Zane’s bootlicker?” he asked in disgust.
“We’ll get him, too. Man, these two never learn.”

“Tess?” Victoria pulled her into a hug. “I’m
so sorry.”

“You’re a rock star,” Tess insisted, stifling
a sob. “You called 9-1-1? I’m so grateful.”

The first officer cuffed Zane, while the
second body-slammed Zane’s minion down on a table. All of which
seemed like simple justice.

A few feet from the action, the Crunch
brothers looked almost as shaken as Tess, so she patted Victoria’s
arm and went over to them. “I’m so sorry, you guys. I should have
called the cops right away. We’ll pay for your phone, obviously.
And—” She hesitated, then pulled them into a group hug. “I love you
guys. Thank you, thank you. I would have been ten times more scared
if you weren’t here. So thanks, really.”

The older brother’s face seemed made of ash,
while the younger managed a smile. “It was an old phone, so don’t
worry about it.”

A voice—Ed’s voice—roared from the doorway.
“What the effing hell?”

Apparently Victoria had called him too.

Wiping her face with her fingertips, Tess
turned just in time for the bear hug she knew was coming. The bear
hug she desperately needed. “You’re here,” she told him gratefully.
“Thank God.”