Chapter 14 My Downfall
MY DOWNFALL
Favorite game?
Cole: Risk.
Bridget: Among Us is my favorite! I play with my niblings all the time.
COLE
In the end, capture the flag was my downfall.
Tuesday morning started out innocently enough, with breakfast and a planning session for next year.
But that afternoon, Bridget gathered the team and directed me to haul a gym bag and cooler to the resort’s soccer field.
I dropped the gear next to the goal, hoping we were playing a pickup game of soccer.
After a night tossing and turning, haunted by images of the fine hairs at her nape curling in the steam and the curves revealed by her swimsuit, plus my thwarted desire to touch her, I needed to reclaim my body with a sprint or twenty.
When she bent to unzip the bag, I ripped my eyes away from her curvaceous backside in her khaki shorts. (Stan was here, goddamn it. The last thing I needed was for him to catch me ogling my co-CEO.)
“Capture the flag!” Bridget waved a Frisbee in each hand, one red and one blue. “Or maybe it’s capture the Frisbee? Either way, I hope you wore your running shoes.” Her eyes sparkled as brightly as her grin. “Let’s split into teams.” She chopped her arm straight down the middle of our group.
“No!” I protested. “We have to have captains and pick sides.” Had she never played a sport at recess or in gym?
“Okay.” A line creased between her dark eyebrows. “Who are the captains?”
“You and me, of course.” I’d experienced the dangers of teaming up with her. “I pick Akil.”
“Fine. I pick Gina and Miguel.” Obediently, they moved to stand beside her.
“We take turns,” I argued. I’d hoped to have Miguel, since the most strenuous exercise Stan did was getting in and out of his golf cart.
“We did,” she said in a maddeningly patient voice. “You picked first in the first round, then I picked first in the second round. It’s perfectly fair. Stan, you’re with Akil and Cole.”
“Sounds like a winning team,” Stan said.
Bridget beamed. “We’re all winners here.”
Christ. I wished the board could’ve heard that. They’d have dropped the charade and given me the CEO position immediately.
Bridget explained the rules, which allowed for passing the Frisbees—unlikely with so few players on a side—and chose the near side of the field as her team’s territory. Then she handed us the red disc and three red bandannas. “Good luck, Red Team.”
As my team trudged to the far side, I tied the red bandanna to my wrist. “Stan, you’re our flag’s keeper.
Don’t let anyone near it. Akil, you’re a runner, so you play offense.
Your objective is to capture the blue Frisbee without being tagged.
I’ll be a midfielder and switch between offense and defense as needed.
After you’ve got their flag, you’ll need to make it back to our side of the field without getting tagged.
If you get in trouble, pass it to me.” I tossed Akil the disc.
He caught it and then flipped it to Stan.
Stan bobbled it for a second, then gripped it.
I exhaled. “This game is in the bag.”
Of course, Bridget had procured a whistle, and she blew it to start the game.
After checking that Stan was guarding the Frisbee, I watched Akil dart across the center line.
He evaded Miguel and headed toward the corner of the field and Bridget.
But before he got there, Gina raced past me, her long legs eating up the field.
Fuck, she was fast.
I turned and sprinted after her, my heart pounding. Yes. This was exactly what I needed. All my attention was on Gina as she weaved ahead of me, but as I reached to tag her, she juked right and ran toward Stan.
Stan tapped on his phone’s screen. Who the hell brought their phone to a sport? “Stan!” I bellowed. “Heads up!”
He looked up and pocketed his phone. He waved his hands in the air as if Gina were a bear and that would scare her off.
She was going to dart under his arm and snatch our flag.
I dug deep to summon my last reserves of speed, though I was built for power, not quickness.
Desperate, I leaned forward and tapped Gina’s shoulder.
She glanced back, surprised to find me within reach, then slowed. “Dammit! Two more seconds, and I’d have had your flag.”
I bent and rested my hands on my knees, huffing. “Not this time, Kamal. You’re in jail.” I pointed at the soccer goal.
“I’ll be out soon. You’ll see.” She jogged toward the penalty box.
“Not likely,” I grumbled. “Stan, swap. I’ll guard the flag.
You help Akil.” Bridget’s team was down a player, so it’d be easy now.
Stan strolled away from the Frisbee toward the center line.
I jogged toward our flag and took my position a few feet away.
“Hustle, Red,” I called. My blood boiled when I spotted Stan still walking. I opened my mouth to shout at him.
“Ha ha!” Miguel called from too close. As he and Gina dashed back toward their side, he tapped an unsuspecting Stan on the arm and yelled, “Jail, Stan!” Gina whooped.
I dragged my hands over my eyes. What a disaster. I scanned the other end of the field for Akil, hoping he was close to capturing the flag since it was only him and Bridget. I grimaced at what I saw.
Akil sat in the opposite goal, obviously in jail, sipping a beer and laughing with Bridget. Laughing! Not waving at me for a rescue. Not doing a thing to help our team. When Stan plopped down beside him, Bridget handed him a bottle too, and he clinked it to hers.
Fuck! It was up to me. I tightened the red cloth around my wrist and surveyed the battleground. Miguel jogged toward me, seeming uncertain how to get past me to the Frisbee. “Come on, Miguel,” I called. “Come and get it.”
Warily, he weaved first left, then right. But he didn’t have Gina’s quickness, so when I lunged forward, he couldn’t evade my touch. “Go to jail, buddy,” I said with a chuckle. Frowning, he trudged toward the goal.
Before he made it to the penalty box, Gina danced up and tagged him, and they both jogged back toward their side of the field.
I was alone again.
I weighed my options. I could try to capture the flag on my own. Or I could dart across, relying on my speed and determination to free my teammates, then launch a fresh attack. Going it alone appealed to me, though it might prove too difficult with a full blue team and no one left to guard my flag.
Kicking the grass to conceal the Frisbee, I set off at a jog across the field, counting red team members. Now Gina and Miguel joined Bridget, Akil, and Stan in the penalty box. Bridget handed Gina and Miguel beers.
“What, is the game over?” I shouted from a safe distance.
“It can be, if you want,” Bridget said. “This has been fun, right? Come over and have a beer.”
I barked a laugh. “Not likely. I’m in it to win it.”
She shrugged and then tipped back her head to drink. “Suit yourself.”
“So you won’t care if I just grab your flag?” I edged toward the corner of the field Bridget had been guarding.
“Actually, we do.” Gina set her beer in the grass and jogged toward the corner to guard it. Miguel followed at an easy lope.
I pivoted and raced toward the penalty box. Bridget didn’t bother to stand. I skirted her and tapped Akil and Stan on the shoulder. “Come on, guys. Back to home base.”
“No, thanks.” Stan glugged his beer. “I’m pretty comfortable here.”
“Me too,” Akil said. When he tipped back his head to drink, I noticed the bandanna around his neck. It was blue, not red.
“What the fuck?” I yelped. “Are you a double agent? That’s not allowed, Bridget.”
“Nah,” Akil said. “I switched sides. Stan and I are Team Blue now.”
“Seriously? Turncoats?” I shouted, outraged.
“That’s allowed,” Bridget said. “It’s not like I could stop them.”
“Of course you could have,” I snapped. “Red Team, let’s go.”
Behind me, Gina let out a whoop.
Shit! I’d forgotten all about her. I whirled to face the center line.
Gina tossed the red Frisbee to Miguel, who caught it and sprinted across the chalk line. Lazily, he flipped the disc back to Gina and raised his arms. “We win!”
Bridget leaped up, knocking over her beer. “Go Team Blue!”
“Go Team Blue!” Akil echoed.
“Team Blue is da bomb.” Stan crooked one elbow and straightened his other arm toward the sky.
“Are you fucking dabbing?” I shouted, outraged.
“My granddaughter taught me,” he said brightly.
“You can be Team Blue too, you know,” Bridget said. “We’re all winners in this game.”
“That’s something you tell preschoolers. It’s not how the world works.”
Bridget narrowed her eyes, and I could tell she was about to argue with me. Then she shook it off and pulled two beers from the cooler. She extended one to me. “For a game well played.”
I scowled at Stan and Akil. “Beers are for winners.”
“We’re all Team Apex,” Bridget said. “One team.”
The other executives raised their beers and echoed her. “One team.”
I sighed out my frustration. Everyone was having a good time, except me. Bridget looked like a hero with her touchy-feely strategy and cooler of Imperials.
Though I supposed she’d achieved the point of the retreat, which was to bring the team together.
No one had their phones out. Gina reclined on her elbows, laughing at something Akil said.
Stan pointed up at a nearby tree, trying to convince Miguel he’d seen a parrot.
And Bridget held out a beer to me, even though I’d lost the game.
Even though I was her competitor for the job we both wanted.
Her eyes sparkled, reflecting the bright-blue sky.
For a few more days, we didn’t have to be locked in competition. We could enjoy our beautiful surroundings and accept the softer feelings that invaded my chest when she was near. A temporary friendship wouldn’t be the worst thing, at least until we returned to the office after the holiday.
“Fine,” I said. “One team.” As I grabbed the bottle from her, my finger brushed hers. It must’ve been the combination of warm skin and cold glass that sent a shock through me. But her eyes widened like she’d felt it too.
Maybe it wasn’t friendship that made me see positive where I used to see only negatives.
Maybe it was more.