24. Play Along
PLAY ALONG
SAWYER
All things considered, that wasn’t so bad last night. Telling Chloe was strangely sort of…freeing. Not sure what to make of that. Or the fact that seeing her in the audience—after I got over the initial shock—made me feel like I was ten feet tall.
Probably because she looked like she was having the time of her life. That’s always good to see when you’re onstage.
But as I park, then walk along Main Street to Dog Tails, I vow to put last night behind me.
So she knows.
So what?
She said she’ll keep my secret identity a secret, and that’s all I want. No way do I want the people whose checks I sign to know about Sam Silversmith. I’ve worked hard to cultivate an image of respect here as the boss. That means boundaries. That means keeping my private life private.
My phone buzzes as I near the door of Dog Tails, but I ignore it. Don’t want to set a bad example and have my head bent over my device as I walk into work. I tug down the sleeves of my blue-checked shirt, making sure the cuffs are buttoned.
All good. My temporary ink is nowhere to be seen.
I pull open the door and stride inside where four sets of eyes are on me. Zuri’s. Hazel’s. Levi’s. Nisha’s.
And they’re smirking.
What. The. Hell.
Chloe told them after all? My fists clench, and a fire roars inside me.
Levi taps his foot, his red-and-white Gazelle going up and down at Mach speed. “When were you going to tell us?”
I gulp but hold my head up high. “Good morning to you too,” I say. Was that masterful evading? Don’t know, but a man has to start somewhere.
“Seriously. That is wild,” Hazel says with wide eyes.
“I can’t believe it,” Zuri says, shaking her head, her black braids swinging, her smile too amused.
I look away, pinning my gaze on the pups as I work out what to say next.
The main pack’s already here. Some newbies too.
Like a Husky, who’s singing. Even the dogs are having fun with this.
I scan for Chloe next, peering into her training room.
She’s not there, but her bag is. She was obviously here though, blabbing.
Another reason you should never get involved with someone you work with. They spill your beans.
I should have seen this coming. A secret never stays secret for long. I just can’t believe Chloe ran at the mouth when she swore she wouldn’t.
But the less I make of my after-hours persona, the less my employees will. “Believe it,” I say, offhand as I return my focus fully to the four humans at the counter.
Nisha holds her hands out wide, then looks at her co-workers. “There. I told you it was no big deal,” she says. “Let’s leave the boss alone about it.”
Thank fuck for Nisha.
“Leave him alone? Are you kidding me? I want in,” Levi says.
“I’m not sure about that,” I say to Levi, moving behind the counter, like everything’s business as usual as I try to downplay my hobby.
“Oh, but I am sure about it. I’ve always wanted to try it,” Zuri says with her standard managerial confidence. A woman in charge.
“Me too. It sounds so cool,” Hazel says, upbeat and eager, like she is with every dog she grooms.
“Appreciate that,” I say, then rack my brain for the best way out of this as I glance longingly at my office door. Maybe I can camp out in there all day? Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.
“I think we should all do it. Make it a whole thing,” Levi says, and that sounds horrifying.
“Yes! A fun night out for the team,” Hazel adds, right as the door blows open, like it’s flying off the hinges.
“Workplace bonding,” Zuri adds while a redheaded devil races toward us brandishing a to-go coffee cup. A redheaded devil who’s revealed my secret.
Irritation rushes through my veins.
But I need to snuff out this workplace bonding time right the fuck now. “I’d rather not have an office ka—”
“Night golf!”
Blinking, I snap my gaze to Chloe, who locks eyes with me as she sets down her cup with a loud smack, adding, “Are you sure you don’t want to do night golf, Sawyer? I was telling them how much fun it was when I found you at the Duck Falls golf course last night.”
I could fucking kiss her.
She didn’t expose me. She saved me. “Yes, that was fun,” I manage to say.
“I didn’t even know they had night golf,” Zuri says.
“It was a special one-off event,” Chloe says, the words play along clearly written in her irises. Like I’d do anything else right now. “I told them all how they did a driving range under the lights. The blinking fairy lights were such a great touch. A whole special night out for members.”
She’s brilliant, and I’m a world-class idiot. Why didn’t I assume she’d told the cover up like she said she would?
Because you don’t trust people you’re into.
“It was pretty cool,” I say, nonchalant and cool. Like a boss who really does play golf instead of sing cover tunes.
Levi nudges me. “Member? Aren’t you Mister Fancy Pants?”
And I will take this teasing, thank you very much. I shrug sheepishly. “I like golf.”
At least that’s not a lie.
“I’ll say,” Zuri says with a whistle. “Member? Damn. Someone’s bougie.”
Hazel frowns. “Too bad. I thought it was a mini-golf thing. And we’d be doing night golf with windmills and waterwheels. Real golf is so boring.”
Levi nods. “Like, put me to sleep right now.”
“Let us know when you get a membership at a cool place like mini golf,” Zuri adds.
“I will,” I say, meaning it from the bottom of my relieved heart.
“Well, you don’t know what you’re missing,” Chloe says.
“I’ll have to trust you on that,” Levi says.
The Husky yaps again—a cue to get back to work. Another cue comes in the form of Salma who pushes open the door, Dandelion trotting by her side.
“Hey, Salma. Nice to see you two again,” I say, grateful to focus on the business.
“Dandelion practically pulled me here all the way from the market. She’s obsessed with this place.”
“That’s what we like to hear,” Zuri says, then toggles the mouse to wake up the computer screen. “Let me check you in.”
I head to my office and snick the door shut. I let out a long breath as I sink down in my chair.
That was a close call. A lesson for me too, perhaps. In trust. But can anyone blame me?
I flip open my laptop so I can bury myself in reports today when there’s a rap on my door. I wish I could ignore it, but that’s not in the cards. “Come in,” I say.
Chloe slinks inside, and her Cheshire-cat grin is more satisfied than it was last night. “I was out grabbing a latte.” She takes a long, leisurely sip from her cup. “Good thing I returned in the nick of time. I’m guessing you didn’t check your texts?”
“You texted me?”
“Dude. Yes. But also, what the hell? We agreed on night golf.”
I grab my phone and spot a text preview from her.
Chloe: Don’t you worry your pretty head off. I smoothed the path for the night golf cover-up.
I laugh. “Guess I should have checked it. In my defense, though, it sounded like they were talking about…you know.”
“Oh, I do know. I definitely know.” She pops up on my desk, perching her sweet ass there and crossing her legs. She blows out a too-pleased breath. “But it’s all good, Mister Fancy Pants. Especially since I know my price now.”
“Price?” I ask, arching a brow.
“For my silence,” she says, then hops off the desk. “See you at Prohibition Spirit at eight.”
She sails off, and once again I’m both dreading and counting down the hours till I see her after work.
Mostly, counting them down.
Mostly.
* * *
Is it normal to walk into a not-date a little turned on by the potential of blackmail? Not asking for a friend.
At 7:59 p.m., I open the door to the speakeasy with a ready-or-not-here-I-come attitude. Fact is, I’m dying to know what’s going on in that sexy head of hers.
Will the price be, I don’t know, spicy lessons? Not that Chloe needs any. But a man can dream. If she asked me to teach her some new sex thing, I’d gladly go out and do whatever new sex thing that was with her.
Except, wait. Nope. I’m not doing that. We stopped any and all sex things a few weeks ago. Best to stay the course. I weave past tables, heading straight to the bar where she’s waiting. Kicking her leg back and forth like she hasn’t stopped since this morning.
When I join her, she says, “Well, well, well.”
“You really like saying that, don’t you?”
“I’m learning I really do,” she says.
I park myself on a stool, resigned to my fate. “All right. What’s the price?”
Her jaw drops in mock outrage. “You’re not even going to buy me a drink first?”
“I need to treat you as you blackmail me?”
She stares at me without blinking. “I feel like you didn’t read the rules of blackmail, mister.”
I sigh. “A mojito with their best rum?”
She smiles. “We understand each other.”
I lift a hand, catch Esmeralda’s attention, then place the order.
“And a whiskey sour for you?” she asks.
“Works for me.”
Esmeralda glances from Chloe to me, then smiles smugly. “One whiskey sour and one mojito coming right up for…the hot date.”
Everyone in this town has the memory of an elephant. “Call it whatever you want,” I say, still more unbothered than I should be over the possibility of Esmeralda thinking I’m seeing Chloe.
Maybe because it feels like I am when I’m here in this bar with her? Like this place belongs to a Chloe and Sawyer who are somehow dating? But that’s a risky thought to entertain, so I set it out of my mind as Esmeralda gets to work mixing.
I turn all my attention on the nefarious redhead with the pretty pink mouth I want to defile. “All right. Tell me you need a sexy, well-hung man to take you to a gala to make an ex jealous?”
Her hazel eyes glimmer. “No, but that’s a good idea.” She rolls her lips, takes a deep breath, then fastens on a nervous smile. “What I need is for you to sing ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ as the closing number at the Darling Springs Community Cabaret Theater Fundraiser in two weeks.”
I study her face, looking for signs she’s pulling my leg but finding none. “Seriously?”
She lifts a hand like she’s swearing an oath. “Yes. I’ll be playing piano that night.”
“You play piano?” I ask, stunned for some reason. Maybe even…excited?