Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
“So what do you think? You know anyone looking for a summa cum laude graduate?” I ask Nessa over the phone.
I would have added with acceptance into Harvard Law, but part of Cali’s angst this summer stems from her not wanting to go to law school in the fall.
It’s what her mom and others expected, but Cali wants to find a job so she can afford to take art classes for the sketching she loves.
Thank God she’s finally taking it seriously.
Jaeger, with his art background, helped convince her of her talent.
Apparently, my opinion all these years wasn’t good enough. In all honesty, I’m happy for her.
A muffled sound like a yawn comes through the receiver.
“Sorry. Tired.” Nessa just woke from an afternoon nap—a girl after my own heart.
Not a morning sleeper, but definitely a sleeper.
“You could check with Sallee Construction. Lewis mentioned his dad is looking for someone to support their architect. Not sure if Cali has the skills they’re looking for, but it’s worth a shot.
Lewis’s dad is sooo nice. If John doesn’t have something for her, he’ll ask around, and he knows everyone. ”
“I met John. His company is building the mudder obstacles. Zach referred me.”
“Perfect, so tell Cali to get in touch with him and have her mention we sent her.”
I could talk to Lewis, but his father is just as good, and I’d rather not ask Lewis for another favor. He added me to his mudder team. It’s to his advantage to help me train if I’m on his team, but I’m getting the better bargain. Without his help, I’d be struggling.
The second Nessa and I hang up, my phone vibrates. I assume it’s a text from her with another lead, but the message is from Lewis.
Lewis: Have plans tonight? The team is getting together for pizza and beer. You should come. It’ll be teambuilding.
Teambuilding. Not a date.
Gen: Sure. Where/what time?
A couple of hours later, I scan Avalanche Pizza.
Even though I’m wearing my normal crisp button-down tucked into skinny jeans, there’s a chance I put more effort than usual into my appearance.
I straightened my hair and applied makeup—I also paired my conservative outfit with pointy-toed stilettos instead of flats.
The heels are only two inches high, but they add a little something extra.
A youngish crowd elevates the noise in the restaurant to a low roar. Zach sees me first and signals me over. Lewis is with him, but his back is to me.
Other than Zach, I haven’t met the others on my team. Apparently, I’m the only female, based on the male bodies at the table with Zach and Lewis.
I walk up and Lewis turns and scans me from head to toe, sending a flutter through my belly. He returns his attention to the guys and swigs his pint. No smile, nothing.
My chest deflates.
Damn. Dismissed, just like that. I mean, it’s better this way.
Less complicated if he doesn’t make any moves, but I can’t help feeling disappointed.
We’ve gotten to know each other these last few weeks and…
I like the guy. He’s fair, pushes me hard, and when he thinks I’m not paying attention, he watches me.
I hate to admit it, but the dismissal hurts.
Zach hands me a beer and makes room for me on the bench. He introduces me to the others.
“Don’t let her sweet look fool you,” he says. “Gen, here, is a shark. She was dunking coins left and right during Quarters the night I met her, and kicking our asses.”
One guy’s brow quirks. He reaches over to an abandoned table and grabs a shallow, empty glass. He sets it in front of us and digs in his pocket, dumping three quarters, two dimes, and a stringy ball of lint on the table.
Lewis shakes his head. “We’re training tomorrow. Take it easy. The race is only three weeks away.”
Someone blows off the lint and more pockets empty until a dozen quarters pile in front of me. We really only need a couple.
“Let’s test her skills,” the guy with the glass says. “Any girl who can sink a quarter the first time deserves our respect, even if we have to drag her ass around the course in three weeks.”
So they think I’ll weigh them down? I can’t say I disagree, but I will kick their asses at Quarters.
I pick up the coin, glance at the glass, and look straight at the heckler. I strike the edge of my palm on the table and let the quarter fly.
It sinks with a clean ping.
“Whoaaa!” my team shouts above the drone, slapping each other’s backs.
I sweep through twenty-two ringers before my luck runs out.
Lewis acted bored the entire time, but the rest of my team gulped beer with every shot—ignoring Lewis’s grandfatherly rule about not drinking.
A few of the guys ask me about sports in high school and college.
One of them asks me if I have a boyfriend.
My eyes dart to Lewis—why, I have no idea. But he’s waiting for my answer along with the rest of them.
“No.” I shake my head and smile.
“Are you looking for one?” the guy next to me asks with a saucy grin.
“Back off.” Zach thumps the guy’s shoulder. “Gen’s on our team, which means she’s off-limits. Think of her as your little sister.”
“After the race?” the guy quips.
Lewis rises and walks over. “Move it, Jake.” He squeezes in between Jake and me, and my body tenses.
The rest of the team switches to other topics, but I get the sense they’re observing. Not in an obvious way—just like the conversations have gone down a notch in volume and each guy takes turns glancing.
With Lewis so close to me, I’m feeling flushed and a bit hot. I unbutton my white shirt and wrap it around my waist.
The table goes silent.
I wore a silky tank underneath my shirt that I didn’t think was sexy, but maybe it is. I have actual cleavage in this top. Cali and my mom would be thrilled.
Lewis’s gaze strays to my bare arms, then shifts quickly to the beer he’s cupping.
Time for a subject change. “No Mira?”
His eyes narrow. “She’s not my girlfriend, Gen.” He rubs a condensation bead off the side of his glass. “She’s a close friend, but I don’t record her every move.”
“You fight like you’re in a relationship,” I say, to flush out the definition of the two of them.
A part of me wants him to be in a relationship. If he has a girlfriend, I can convince myself to stay away from him. The way I respond to Lewis scares me. It’s too intense.
He angles toward me, shutting out the others, though I’m pretty sure they’re listening. They can’t seem to talk and listen at the same time, so there’s not much conversation going on. “No relationship—not in the way you think. She’s like a sister to me.”
I look at him incredulously. “Does she know you think of her this way?”
“Yes.”
“How does she handle that knowledge?” I’m acting like a psychologist, but seriously, I must figure this out.
He lifts his shoulder in a lazy shrug, as if it doesn’t matter.
It matters, dammit. What they have together is so confusing, and I need to know what it means. “How did she deal with your past girlfriends?”
He doesn’t answer. His gaze wanders nervously away.
An uneasy feeling sweeps down my spine. “Lewis?” I’m almost afraid to ask. “When was the last time you had a girlfriend?” Maybe his last relationship ended badly and Mira is overprotective?
“A few years ago.”
I sip my beer to steady the shudder threatening to unhinge me.
Not what I wanted to hear. “Sooo… Mira was okay with that one, but now she can’t handle you talking to other women?
” I’m not going to beat around the bush.
It’s obvious Mira has issues with Lewis paying attention to other women, specifically me.
Another smile, this one a bit mischievous. “She didn’t know about that relationship. I was away in college.”
My eyes bulge. It’s been going on since college? “Why are you keeping your girlfriends hidden?”
He shifts in his seat. “Girlfriend. There was one.”
“One?” I squeak. Lewis is polished mountain man candy.
No way he’s only had one girlfriend. He’s gotta be a player, only that image doesn’t fit either.
He hasn’t checked out a single girl tonight, unlike his counterparts.
“Sisters don’t cockblock,” I point out. His mouth curves up.
Did I say that out loud? “I mean… You know what mean.” I glance nervously at the guys.
Half are openly staring.
This conversation is one of the most awkward I’ve ever experienced, so of course it’s with Lewis and half a dozen eavesdroppers. “Why is she like that?” I ask in a low voice.
He checks his watch. “We should get going. It’s late.”
He’s dismissing me? Again?
I asked probing questions, but it’s not like he wasn’t answering. I guess I should be happy he answered as many as he did.
Lewis downs the rest of his beer and shoves the glass to the center of the table.
He stands and raises his hand toward Jake beside him.
Jake gives him a manly handgrip. “I’m gonna take off,” Lewis says.
“I’ll catch you guys later.” He peers at me.
“Next week, team training. Tomorrow—be ready. I’ll pick you up at eight. ”
“Eight? Why so early?”
He grins as he turns toward the door. “Special obstacle work,” he calls.
Crap, he’s going to torture me. More than he already has.