Trying the Player (Rules of the Game #4)

1. Harlowe

CHAPTER 1

HARLOWE

T he crash of glass in the kitchen made me stop dead in my tracks. After quickly dropping the plates of food in my hands off to the customers who’d ordered them, I hurried into the kitchen to see what the hell had happened.

Marco—the dishwasher—stood in the middle of shattered glass that had to be at least a dozen plates with his hands wrapped around the back of his shaved-bald head as he looked around with wild eyes. He’d worked here since he graduated in May and was an excellent employee.

“What happened?” I asked. “Are you all right?”

“I turned around and a stack of dishes was sitting on the end of the counter,” he told me. “I didn’t know they were there, Miss Chandler.”

“That’s all right,” I said while grabbing a broom. “And remember, I told you to call me Harlowe.” Miss Chandler made me feel a lot older than I was.

Looking around, I noticed that almost all of the staff was in the kitchen at that moment, so I said—loud enough for everyone to hear me—“Please be sure not to stack dishes on the counters behind Marco. At the very least tell him they’re there.” This absolutely wasn’t his fault.

Marco was a kid, even to me, and I’d learned that he’d had a rough time in his life. His parents had made him leave their house before he’d graduated high school and luckily, friends’ parents had let him couch-surf until graduation. Then he looked for a full-time job and I’d needed a new full-time dishwasher. It’d been working out great so far, but he was constantly worried that any mistake, no matter how small, would result in him getting fired and that wasn’t how I worked.

“Be careful, Marco,” I told him when he went to take a step. Some of these glass pieces were big enough to go through his shoe. “I’ve got this.”

First, I swept the shards away from where he had to stand to work because I needed him to keep going. We weren’t in a rush right now at Cleats & Kegs, but as we moved closer to game time we’d get a lot busier. Then it’d be steady after the first pitch while those customers stayed to watch the baseball game happening across the street on our giant TVs.

The bar and grill that my parents owned was right around the corner from the field where the Kalamazoo Knights played. A team that included the four older brothers of my best friend, Camden. The rarity of four brothers all being on the same team was something their father had wanted, but none of them had.

People came here for food before the game and then those who didn’t have a ticket came to watch the game. It was on every TV in the place once it was time.

“Hey, Harlowe,” Luz, my black-haired super waitress, called from the door. “Camden’s here.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right out.”

After getting the glass taken care of, I put the broom back and went out to talk to my best friend. We talked almost every day but didn’t see each other as often due to my work schedule. Since my parents had made me a manager after high school graduation, I’d worked more hours than I should have, but they wanted to be hands off, so I needed to not need them.

Camden was sitting at the bar with her brown hair pulled into a bun as she used a single finger to twirl a napkin around in circles in front of her.

I leaned in quickly, knowing she wasn’t paying attention and said, “Hey.” Which made her jump.

“Jerk,” she said with a scowl while I chuckled.

“What’s up? What ‘cha doing here? Want food?”

She shook her head. “I already ate and am going to the game tonight. Want to come?”

“Nope.” I liked baseball and actually loved going to the games with her, but I tried not to go too often. There was a reason for that and I didn’t want to think about it. “Working and then I have to go see the parents.”

She cringed. “That sounds fun.”

“Very little of it’s fun.”

Camden, on the other hand, came from a wealthy family. Her mom was an only child whose father owned the Kalamazoo Knights, which meant he’d had money even before then. I was pretty sure Camden’s grandmother on that side had also come from money, but I couldn’t be sure. Then Camden’s dad had been a huge baseball player in his own right. He retired before Camden had been born, but at the time, he’d had a record-breaking contract, the internet told me.

So while still in college, she didn’t needed to work. Hell, she probably didn’t need to work even after school, but she did sometimes help me out. As much as I’d grown up around her baseball family, she’d grown up here at Cleats & Kegs.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe I won’t go. I can’t spend the whole summer at games.”

I furrowed my brows and leaned my arms on the bar top. “You love baseball.”

“Yeah…”

“And it’s not exactly a punishment to watch hot players in tight baseball pants.” One in particular, which was why I tried to stay away. Unholy thoughts about my best friend’s brother wasn’t the best idea. Especially not right in front of her.

But she winced in disgust. “I don’t know why people think baseball players are hot.”

Snickering, I said, “Yes, you do. Obviously, you wouldn’t understand people lusting after your brothers, but otherwise, it’s just because you don’t like baseball players.”

“I hate baseball players.”

“I know, I know.” I tsked . She’d said it a million times over the years. “Yet you never say why. But you love the game.”

“Yes, I do. You can’t trust them. Listen, I’ve grown up around these guys. So have you. You know as well as I do.”

Sure. There was the stereotype that professional athletes slept around and had lots of affairs and that was true for some. As far as we knew, her brothers and Jenner Greene, Silas’s best friend, never cheated. They did sleep around, though even when they’d been in high school.

That, we couldn’t deny. Unfortunately, Camden had been on the receiving end of some not-so-great behavior from girls in high school who’d felt scorned or had been mad when her brothers had girlfriends, as if that was something she could control.

Something told me that her reasons ran deeper than that and for best friends who told each other almost everything, it was weird that she didn’t want to say, but I had a secret I kept from her, so I wasn’t going to hold it against her.

“You really have to work?” Her voice took on a whiny, pleading tone that she used when she was trying to convince me to do something. I used it on her too.

“Yup. Plus, we just lost a bunch of plates, so I have to do a quick count of dishes to make sure I order enough to replace them.”

She let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Fine. I’ll go by myself.”

I doubted she’d be by herself. Three of her four brothers now had girlfriends. Silas had ended up with Amity Kincaid, daughter of his high school coach and sister of his best friend, who’d died when they were in high school. Urban had hooked up—literally—with a local teacher named Everly Rose when he’d been volunteering at the camp his parents’ charity ran and they’d fallen for each other, even though it was supposed to have been casual. Then Cobb transferred here more recently and randomly met Monroe Phillips at a coffee shop. She was still in college but was a budding activist.

Fate said that Brooks would be next and man, that was going to sting.

But at least some of those girlfriends would be there today, if not Camden’s parents too. She wouldn’t miss me.

There just wasn’t anything I could do about it today.

After working an extra hour and a half to do inventory of dishes and place an order for replacements, I dropped into my car with a sigh. It’d been a long day and now I had to deal with my parents and tell them what I wanted.

The game would definitely have been more fun.

Dad had inherited Cleats & Kegs from his dad, who’d only owned it a few years when he’d died. Dad said he’d thought it could be run remotely without much input from him. That hadn’t exactly been the case until I’d taken over. I did everything in my power not to need them to run the place and most of the time, I succeeded.

After pulling up to the small bungalow that I’d grown up in, I took a deep breath then blew it out slowly. My parents lived in Kalamazoo in the same place they had since before I’d been born and I lived across town, yet we didn’t see each other very much. Each time I did, the visit went fine, but it was never quite comfortable.

I came along when Mom and Dad were older. Mom had been forty and Dad had been forty-six, but Mom had never worked even before I’d come along. Dad already inherited Cleats & Kegs at twenty-one. So he’d worked there, but Mom… didn’t. Her one job had been to be available for whatever Dad needed or wanted. They’d traveled a bunch before they had me and wanted that childfree life until I came along and ruined it, but she was always so dependent on him and I hated it.

The idea that she had to “ask” Dad if she could have lunch with a friend because if he needed something and she wasn’t there… Nope. Couldn’t happen. And since he made all the money, she didn’t have a lot of recourse. Once I’d understood what had been happening, I’d promised myself to never be in that situation.

Though I wasn’t even sure it was coming from him. Or at least I never saw it. No, she was the one who set this up this way as far as I could tell.

After having me, they’d still traveled, but not as much, especially once Grandma had died and couldn’t take care of me anymore.

Now they wanted to get rid of Cleats & Kegs so they had no reason to have roots anywhere.

“Hey, Harlowe.” Mom greeted me once she’d opened the door so that I could come in. “Were we expecting you?”

“Nope.” I moved into the living room, where Dad was watching a news program while sitting in his favorite recliner.

“Hey, honey,” he said as he muted the TV.

Did my parents love me? Yeah. I think they did in the way that they could, but I’d always known that interrupting their lives to raise me had not been part of their plan. It was a weird, complicated relationship.

“I wanted to talk to you about Cleats & Kegs.” I sat on the end of the couch farthest from them because I knew Mom would want to sit on the end near him.

“What now?” Dad put the footrest of his chair down and readjusted himself so he could see me better.

“I know you two want to sell it—”

“As soon as possible,” Mom said, cutting me off. The idea was that as soon as they unloaded the bar and grill, they were off on their next adventure. I’d heard them say they were considering selling the house and I didn’t want that, nor could I afford to buy both.

“Right,” I told her. “Well, I want to buy it.”

Mom gasped like I’d just told her I’d fallen off a building and was now paralyzed for life. Mom’s fingers covered her mouth and it took everything in me not to roll my eyes where she’d see it. Mom was in her early sixties, but she still had blonde hair—probably died but I didn’t know for sure—and sparkling, blue eyes. She looked younger than she was because she’d said that the deal was… She stayed in shape, Dad paid for everything.

It had made me want to throw up in my mouth when I’d heard her say that to her friend.

Dad was also in good shape, for a man his age especially. There was no beer gut and his brown hair only had a hint of gray.

“Really?” he asked as I nodded. “Don’t you want… more out of life?”

Inside, I burned. As if what I’d been doing the last three years wasn’t good enough, even though it wasn’t dissimilar to what he’d been doing for forty years since he’d inherited the place, but see, to them, I was just running it while they owned it. They were the real bosses, even though I did all the work.

“Don’t you want to travel?” Mom asked. “See the world?” Because in her eyes, it was only me and the bar that kept her here. She wanted to be somewhere new all the time.

“Not really,” I told her. Even though I’d taken trips and still had more I wanted to see and do, there was zero chance I’d tell them that because I didn’t want to be a nomad the way she wanted to be.

Mom looked at Dad. “How is she our child?”

I snorted. Wouldn’t it be hilarious if I wasn’t?

“Listen, I like the place. I like running it and I’m determined to buy it from you. I’m already working on a loan so you can retire wherever the hell you want. I just need to know how much you want for it so I can see if I can get that amount.”

“You know we own the building?” he asked and I nodded. “You could buy the building and rent out the restaurant space.”

“Not a chance,” I told him right away. “I want to own the bar and grill. I didn’t go to college and I’m good at this. I think I can have a good life with it.” Not to mention the changes I wanted to make that they’d never go for. Not too much, but they didn’t want to spend any money that they didn’t think they’d see an immediate return on.

But for me… owning Cleats & Kegs was about my independence. It was already profitable and being the owner would mean that I would have a stream of income not tied to anyone else for as long as I wanted it. Sure, no one controlled my money now, but it relied on what my dad wanted to pay me. Not what I could make.

I just wanted to know that I’d have this independence, no matter what.

To see my independence slipping away because my mother thought I should have a different life was burning me up inside.

“We could just keep it,” Dad said, but he wasn’t talking to me. “We own it. Let her run it like she is, but give her even more leeway.”

“No,” I told him before she could. “I want full control. I want to own it.”

“We could give you full control.”

I shook my head. This wasn’t something I was going to give on. “No. I wouldn’t ever have full control because the money would still be going to you. If I own it, you don’t have to deal with any of it. No taxes. Nothing. I just… This is important to me. I want to buy it. You want to sell and I want to buy.”

Dad sighed but nodded. “All right. I’ll call people tomorrow to see how much it’ll be, but I can tell you right now, Harlowe, it won’t be cheap and I can’t give you a deal.”

The unspoken part was that he couldn’t give me a deal if he wanted to be able to do all the things Mom wanted to do now that they weren’t working.

“Good. I don’t need you to.” Though in reality, I might’ve needed him to.

Cleats & Kegs made good profits and that meant that this wasn’t going to be cheap.

“All right. It’ll take a few days, but I’ll let you know.”

Mom shook her head and said, “I really don’t think—"

But I cut her off as I pushed to my feet and smiled. “Thank you. This is important to me.”

“Clearly,” he said, then I told them I had to go.

It was at least the first step in my plan to take care of myself.

The next day, I was in my apartment cleaning. I didn’t have to work until later and thought I should use the time wisely. It’d been too long and even though I wasn’t a messy person, things still had to be cleaned. Cleaning ground to a halt when my phone rang.

“Hello,” I answered when I saw Camden’s name.

“Are you working?” she asked.

“No. I’m cleaning. Work later. Why? What’s up?” I set the dusting spray down and dropped myself onto the couch. If I was taking a break, I was taking a break.

“I have a favor to ask.” It was the sound of her voice that made me narrow my eyes, though she wouldn’t have been able to see it.

“You can ask anything, Camden. Doesn’t mean I’ll say yes .” Though I don’t think I’d ever said no .

“Did you see anything about the game last night?”

“No. Had to see the parents, remember?”

“Right, but I wasn’t sure if you watched the news or anything.”

Why would the game be on the news? My heart began beating erratically against my chest. Baseball was just a game, but people sometimes got seriously hurt playing it. And watching it.

I remembered once a woman had gotten hit with a bat that had slipped out of the batter’s hands. She hadn’t lived.

“What happened, Camden?”

“Brooks got hurt,” she whispered. And I swear to everything in the world that my heart completely stopped. “Just a knee strain.”

My entire body deflated. A knee strain was better than a bat to the head, though I imagined he was pissed about it. Mr. I Never Get Injured on the disabled list would probably prod him like the thorn on a rose.

“A knee strain?”

“Yeah. He was trying to make sure Cobb got the no-hitter. Anyway, the entire family—including all of the girlfriends—are headed to Cincinnati tomorrow for the All-Star Game. Remember? The one you said you couldn’t go to?”

“Yeah.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. I’d said no because I was trying to keep from ogling her brother where she could see it. “I remember.”

“Right. So we’re all going and I’m hoping that I can bribe you into babysitting my brother?”

“Your brother?” I asked in confusion.

“Brooks.” Somehow she sounded exasperated with me. “You know he’s not going to follow the doctor’s orders closely. Could you do it?”

“I have to work,” I told her immediately because it was better than saying I couldn’t be in the same room alone with Brooks. I’d been crushing on him too long.

“Is there any way you could get someone to cover? It’s just for a few days. We’ll be back right after the game. Like, the next day. Please, please, please?” She begged.

This was the kind of favor that would’ve been an automatic yes if it had been any of her other brothers. They were smoking hot, but I wasn’t attracted to them the way I was Brooks.

But this was my best friend. I couldn’t say no .

“All right,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll do it, but you owe me big.”

“Yes!” Her excitement made me move the phone away from my ear for a moment. “Thank you, thank, thank you.”

“You owe me.”

“I do.”

“Big.”

“The biggest.”

I snorted. “I’m talking bring me home a Lamborghini kind of big.”

“Anything you want. I swear.”

I fell back against the couch and blew out my breath. “Please don’t bring me back a Lamborghini.” Because she could’ve afforded it and it’d be like her to do it just to be funny.

She giggled. “I won’t, but I owe you. My whole family owes you. I’ll take up a collection from all of them to donate to your Cleats & Kegs fund.”

Until today, Camden was the only person I’d told that I wanted to buy the place and I knew she wouldn’t actually tell her family. Not unless I said she could.

The moment we ended the call, my nervous stomach was in knots and there was a heavy feeling in my chest.

I’d just agreed to be alone with Brooks Briggs, my best friend’s older brother. Us in a group—yeah, no problem. But alone… That was never supposed to happen.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?