Play to Win Page 8

  Lance stared meaningfully at Ethan for a moment and then gave a curt nod. “Stay good, bro.”

  Ethan nodded in return. “I plan to.”

  Noah looked as if he wanted to say something else but changed his mind. “Let’s get to work. Holla if you need anything,” he told Ethan.

  Ethan knew that Noah was talking about more than work and the bar when he said that, so he simply replied, “I will.”

  But he didn’t need anything that Noah could help him with. What Ethan needed and what he should probably stay away from were two totally different things. He needed to keep his mind on the bar and making the statement he and his brothers had planned to make in this town. But he wanted, with more urgency than he’d ever experienced in his life, was to be inside of Portia Merin, once and for all.

  “Everything is going just fine,” Portia lied to her godmother on the phone. “Rod says he’s right on schedule to finish everything on Monday. The new HVAC system was installed yesterday. New appliances for the kitchen and fixtures for the bathrooms came this morning. All that’s left is the rest of the painting inside and then the outside painting. I’ll be on my way to New York late Monday night,” she said.

  “And your next book signing is Tuesday afternoon,” Sunny finished.

  “Yes ma’am. I’ll still be on track with the book tour.”

  “How about the new outline and chapters? How’s that coming?”

  Portia was silent. She didn’t want to lie to Sunny any more than she absolutely had to. “It’s coming.”

  “What’s the theme of this book?” Sunny asked.

  Again, Portia paused. It shouldn’t shock her how interested in her career Sunny was. After all, her success was partially due to her godmother’s candid advice.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Portia confessed. “I feel like I’ve covered all the ground there is to cover in this regard. Sex. The emotion. The physical. Done.”

  “Oh really?” Sunny asked. “Is that how you think of it now?”

  “I’m trying not to think about sex,” she said with a sigh. “I’m trying so hard.”

  Sunny chuckled and Portia stared at the phone quizzically. She shouldn’t have said that to her godmother. She should’ve just kept her mouth shut and got off this call. It was uncanny, but sometimes, it seemed like Sunny could actually read her mind. And the last thing she wanted right now was for her godmother to know what she was thinking at this moment. What, or rather who, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about in the past couple of days.

  “Yes! It’s finally happened!” Sunny yelled through the phone.

  “What’s finally happened? Are you alright?” she asked wondering if Sunny had been paying attention to her at all.

  “You’ve found someone you want to be intimate with,” Sunny said. “I knew the day was coming. I told you that patience was a bitch and life was short, so you had to go out there and grab the bull by the horns. Hot damn! You did it!”

  Portia shook her head. She had no idea what Sunny was talking about. Her godmother had told her so many things in her years growing up. Some had made sense, others hadn’t. Judy, Portia’s mother, told Portia on numerous occasions to ignore everything Sunny said. “Her mind’s warped from all the marijuana she smoked when we were younger,” Judy would say.

  But Portia hadn’t listened to her mother because between the two former best friends, Sunny had been the one to act more like a loving mother to Portia than Judy ever had.

  “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me,” she said honestly.

  “Yes, you do my Ladybug. You were always good at acting like you had nothing to say, blending into the background so that people rarely knew you were there. But I knew and I watched and now here we are.”

  Portia rubbed her temple. She had no idea where Sunny’s mind was, but Portia knew for certain that her thoughts were once again straying in the direction of Ethan.

  “It’s a man. My Ladybug has found herself a man.”

  “No, she hasn’t.” The denial might’ve been a little too quick. “I mean, no I haven’t!”

  Sunny laughed. She had a throaty voice and when she laughed it sounded more like a rumble of thunder before the explosion of chuckles that could sometimes be infectious.

  “For the last ten minutes you’ve been talking about the house and boxes and your book tour. And I’ve been listenin’ to every word. Especially those you weren’t saying.”

  “Are you smoking again, Sunny?”

  “No. And don’t start acting like your brainwashed mother. I don’t need to be under the influence of any substances to see what I see.”

  Portia shook her head. “But you’re not here to see anything.”

  “I wish I was, even though it makes no difference because my hearing is just fine. And before you say anything else, I’m just going to leave you with this, take a chance. You went from being sheltered by your idiot parents, to being mistreated by that silly boy in college, and now, being praised for the business you’ve built. And at no point did you ever stop to think it was possible to love and be loved.”

  “Sunny, please. You’re really going off on a tangent tonight. I’m just trying to keep my promise to you. That’s all,” Portia said even though there was a tingle of something like doubt or trepidation swirling in the pit of her stomach.

  “Go get him,” Sunny said. “Get out of that house and go get the man that has you trying like hell not to think about sex.”

  Before Portia could comment, Sunny hung up. Portia sat on the chair in the kitchen that would be picked up tomorrow by an antique shop she’d called a few days ago and stared at the phone in her hand. She had no idea what Sunny was talking about. There was no man for her to go out and get. No man that was making her think about…Ethan. How the hell had Sunny known about him?

  Portia pressed the phone to her forehead and closed her eyes. Sunny knew something was going on here the same way she’d known to call Portia nine years ago when she’d been in her senior year at college and had awakened to a total nightmare. As Portia sat on the phone crying to her godmother that day, Sunny had told her to fight back, to take a stand, and so she had. She turned what could’ve been the most embarrassing moment of her life into a way to both get back at Bobby and make a little money in the process. The surprising success of that one video propelled her to go a step further and start taking business classes. Now, she was the owner and chief content director of Pleasured, Inc., the company which produced intimacy and sexual instruction videos, and an author. She’d made millions in a field that she knew nothing about personally and she was sitting in this kitchen thinking and doing everything except taking the advice her godmother had given to her and she, in turn, had given to so many people across the world.

  Patience is a bitch, grab the bull by the horns.

  Portia stood from the chair, clenching the cell phone in her hand and walked through the house to the foyer where her purse and car keys sat on a table by the front door.

  It was almost ten-thirty at night and she had no idea where Ethan lived. But she did know where he worked, so she’d start there.

  The Game Changers Bar and Grill was popping with energy on a Friday night. From the moment Portia stepped inside, the sound of music and lots of people talking greeted her. A line of four people stood in front of her as she waited to speak to the hostess who was dressed in black pants and a black shirt, The Game Changers logo scrawled in red on this one.

  Portia looked around while the lyrics to one of her favorite songs filtered through the air. She hummed along with P!nk’s F**kn Perfect and admired the modern stylish and sleek look of this place. Instead of wall-to-wall sports memorabilia plain wood booths and chairs, and cracked peanut shells on the floor, there were floor to ceiling windows, rich mahogany wood walls and floors, high-boy tables with red leather cushioned chairs and a bar that stretched from one end of the main dining room to the other.

  Just beyond the hostess booth were red carpeted st
airs blocked off by a red rope. The bar was bathed in hazy red lighting, and along the top of each wall, a black and white digital sports and world news ticker ran. Across the room were the dark wood butcher block tables, some long enough to accommodate groups of eight, others cozy enough for a couple. Portia thought there might be booths toward the back, but couldn’t really see because of the number of people either seated at the tables or at the bar. There was another area off to one side where a red, white and blue sign that read The Bullpen, hung. More seating was offered in that area where she could see computer stations, which she thought was an oddity in a sports bar, but admitted to being intrigued.

  “Welcome to Game Changers, where your wish is the name of the game! How many are in your party tonight?”

  The hostess was cheerful and had a beautiful smile of straight white teeth against her rich mocha complexion.

  “Hi! Just one, please. Um, at the bar is fine,” Portia told her.

  After surveying the room, she was certain that being seated at the bar would offer the best view of the place.

  “Sure. There are some seats at the other end, if you just head straight back. Enjoy the game!” the hostess exclaimed.

  Her name was Joy, as stated by the silver name badge on the opposite side of the restaurant name, and she wore her hair in black with a few strategically placed bold red goddess braids.

  “Thank you,” Portia replied and walked past the hostess stand.

  Across from the bar, the majority of the wall was covered by rows of flat screen televisions that all played some sports game or programming. It reminded her of an electronics store. Dishes clanked somewhere in the distance and the murmur of conversations followed her as she progressed deeper into the room. There was an energetic vibe here that she immediately liked. She bumped into someone, muttered an “excuse me” and kept moving until she spotted a seat at the bar.

  Three bartenders were working the part of the crowd that faced them here, taking orders, fixing drinks and stopping to chat. Portia situated her small crossbody purse in her lap and snatched up a menu. She’d eaten earlier but knew that because she didn’t drink often, she definitely needed something else on her stomach if she was even going to consider one of the adventurously described drinks.

  “Hey there! What can I get for you tonight?” the bartender that came to a stop in front of her asked.

  He was a tall and handsome guy. His rich sepia complexion and smiling eyes an added bonus to his muscular physique.

  “I think I’ll start off slow with a mojito and an order of fried mozzarella,” she told him.

  He nodded, smiled and continued to stare at her.

  She didn’t know what else to say so she looked away, staring toward the area called the Bullpen and guessing that it was their version of an internet bar within the sports bar. She was thinking that was a smart idea and had begun bobbing her head to the beat of Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars’ Uptown Funk, when she glanced back behind the bar to see the bartender still staring at her. He’d moved about five people down from where she sat and he was actually working on another drink order, but each time he lifted his gaze from what he was doing, it was to stare at her.

  Looking away once more, Portia wondered if Ethan was even here tonight. Her drink came in the next few minutes, followed by her food, and then a pretty woman with a warm smile. The woman was dressed in an outfit similar to the hostess’s but wore her brown and honey blonde streaked hair straight with long bangs.

  “Hi, I’m Camy Greer,” she said, yelling slightly to be heard above the music. “You probably don’t remember me because I was two years behind you in school. But I’m Del and Lance’s sister.”

  As a result of the years that she’d been giving speaking engagements and talking with people before and after her sessions, Portia had immediately smiled upon Camy’s greeting. “Hello. Yes, you were the singer,” she replied. “You sang at the end of the year talent show in school the year I graduated.”

  Camy immediately nodded, her smile widening. “Right! I did. I was just a sophomore then and that was the first time I’d sung at school.”

  “But you also sang in church,” Portia said, remembering the Sunday morning she’d gone to the small Baptist church by herself. “I remember you had a beautiful voice.” While Portia liked to sing too, she was well aware of squawking bird sound her voice actually was.

  “Thank you. And you remember my brother Lance?” Camy asked as she motioned behind the bar.

  “Hi Portia.”

  The bartender had returned and Portia realized now why he’d been staring at her. Upon closer look, beyond the thick beard and wavy black hair, she did recognize him. He’d bulked up a bit and seemed to be taller than she recalled, but yes, this was Delancey Greer, one of Ethan’s close friends.

  “Hi Lance,” she said. “It’s good to see you.”

  It wasn’t. Because with seeing Lance, the uneasiness that used to cloak her whenever she walked down the hall and saw Ethan with his crew, began to creep up inside her.

  “I was surprised to hear you were back in town trying to sell Sunnydale,” Camy said. “But then I remembered it’s your godmother’s house.”

  “Yes. It is,” Portia replied.

  News always did travel fast in Providence and just because she’d been keeping a low profile around town, didn’t mean that nobody noticed she was here. She picked up her glass and took a sip before replying.

  “It’s getting crowded down here, so let’s grab your stuff. There’s better seating upstairs,” Camy said.

  Portia didn’t miss the look that passed between the siblings, but decided to ignore it. She should’ve just sent Ethan a text message and waited for his reply. Coming here tonight may have been a mistake. But she was here now and acting as normal as possible was probably the best route to take. Camy picked up the plate with her food and Portia grabbed her drink before slipping off the stool. Lance smiled at her as she left the bar. She followed Camy through the dining room the same way she’d come before and up the steps that had been roped off.

  It was lively up here too, but there was a more relaxed atmosphere than had been downstairs. Portia also noted that there were mostly guys up here with the exception of some staff. Camy moved easily through the people, past the section of couches and lounge chairs toward another bar, where she finally saw him.

  Ethan moved with ease back and forth as he fixed a drink, delivered it to someone sitting at the bar, laughed at something that was said and then began fixing another drink. Tonight, he wore a black t-shirt with a red oval shaped logo comprised of a baseball, basketball, football and soccer ball with the words Game Changers printed around the edges. The shirt molded to his muscular frame. The dark color a stark contrast to his buttery light complexion. His low-cut hair waved at the top and lay down smoothly on the sides. Defined biceps peeked from beneath the sleeve of his shirt, as her gaze traveled down muscled arms to settle on the gold watch at his wrist. As they approached the bar, she could hear his laughter and saw the light as it hit his eyes that appeared a more brilliant green tonight. She sucked in a breath and released it slowly as Camy led her to a seat at the end of the bar and set her plate on the bar top.

  “You’ll get great service up here,” Camy said with a smile as she turned back to Portia.

  “Thanks,” Portia replied and was fairly certain she saw a devilish gleam in Camy’s brown eyes.

  Taking another sip from her glass, Portia eased onto the bar stool and slowly picked up a piece of the fried mozzarella to take a bite. She was halfway finished before he approached her.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here,” Ethan said.

  He was standing the same distance away from her as Lance had downstairs, yet there was a noticeably different reaction to him than she’d had to the other man. Her body had immediately warmed. The smile that had come easy to Lance and Camy, was slow forming now as she wasn’t quite sure how to react around him after their night on the phone. But then Ethan did
something unexpected.

  He leaned over the bar to touch her hand. “I’m glad you came,” he told her with a smile Portia believed was designed to have women all over the world dropping their panties on command.

  She couldn’t drop hers because there were just too many eyes here tonight, but damn, she certainly wanted to. Especially when his thumb slid to the palm of her hand circling slowly.

  Portia swallowed the flash of trepidation at being here and having him touch her again. She squared her shoulders and replayed her godmother’s words in her mind one more time. Patience is a bitch, grab the bull by the horns.

  “I want you to show me how it’s done,” she said quickly.

  “Show you how what’s done?” he asked.

  “Pleasure,” she replied. “Show me how to experience pleasure.”

  The words coming from her mouth would’ve sounded odd to her agent, editor or any of the millions of people who’d ever attended one of her sessions or purchased and viewed her videos. The instructor asking to be taught. But Portia didn’t care. A big part of her was screaming now or never, and she wasn’t going to second guess it anymore.

  The smile Ethan gave her was absolutely wicked and caused a familiar throbbing in her pussy.

  “I’ll show you everything,” he replied and lifted her hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

  8

  Everything began the moment Noah, Lance, Del, Rock and Jeret said goodnight. It was well after two in the morning by the time the bar cleared of all its customers and was cleaned to the guys’ satisfaction. Portia had at first watched with fascination at the collaboration between them and their staff as they worked to bring the place back to order after a very busy night. Then, feeling like a heel for not helping, she’d grabbed a broom that had been set on the side when one of the servers ran back downstairs for something else, and began to sweep the floor. She’d swept, wiped down the couches and stools with a damp cloth and loaded glasses into the dishwasher behind the bar as if she worked at Game Changers. And when Lance joked about getting her a t-shirt for her next shift, Portia laughed, enjoying the easy way in which this group had seemed to accept her. This time.