“Nah, I’m ready for some poker. Later.” He waves as he hurries to catch the elevator that’s just arrived.
“Later.” I continue toward the bar and stop in the doorway. A survey of the interior indicates none of my teammates are in here. In fact, it’s pretty quiet except for a few tables of businessmen. I head for the bar before I spot Aria. I hesitate before altering my course toward her. I pull out a chair and sit down. She glances up and grimaces.
“Good to see you, too.” I smile with what I hope is total innocence.
“There are plenty of other tables in the area.” She sweeps her arms wide to drive home her point.
“I know.” I shrug.
I order a vodka on the rocks, and she sips her wine.
“You almost had them,” Aria says, “but let off the gas at the end.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re making the doubters question themselves.”
“I don’t think so. We lost by three goals. What about you? Are you a doubter or believer?”
“Not sure yet. I hate to say it, but you played a pretty good game.”
“I apologize for not giving you enough fodder for your next article.”
“Damn you, but I’ll think of something.” She suppresses a smile, but her eyes reveal the truth. She’s amused, rather than annoyed.
“That’s a given.”
We stare at each other. I don’t hate her nearly as much as I did. I wonder if she’s softening toward me. My grandma always said to make friends with your enemies. They might still be enemies, but you’ll have a better chance of knowing what they’re up to.
I take a long swallow of my vodka. It burns all the way down, but I don’t mind. “Why didn’t you write about the incident last night?”
“You asked me not to.”
“Since when do you do what I ask?”
“I don’t.” She laughs, and I’m struck once again by how attractive she is. “I’m waiting for something better to write about. Besides, a local reporter beat me to it, so it wasn’t a scoop.”
“Yeah, he did.” I like this easy banter between us, and I want more of it. “You hungry? There’s a little all-night café down the block. I’m starving.”
“We aren’t friends, you know.” She studies me warily.
“No, but we can have a ceasefire. Besides, I hate to eat alone.”
“You’re buying.”
“Deal.”
We discuss the Icehawks’ chances to make it to the final as we walk. I’m enjoying myself. She’s knowledgeable about hockey, more so than I realized.
The café is small with only a half dozen tables, all occupied but one, which we take.
After ordering our meals, we continue our conversation. I scoot my chair closer to her so we can keep our voices low. My mind isn’t really on hockey. I’m completely focused on Aria’s lips and those eyes. Damned if I don’t want her as badly as I wanted her last night. This craving isn’t going to go away until it’s satisfied. I can either suffer in silence, or I can do something about it. I decide to do something about it.
After we finish dinner and I pay the tab, I point at a club across the street, which appears to be the only other thing open on this block. The bass is pulsating from inside, while colored lights are blinking and swirling.
“Wanna listen to some music?”
Aria hesitates, then shrugs. “Why not?”
