Playing the Player

by Lea Santos

  “Three times. Three bail bonds and one eviction. And yet, you put Madeira in the same category with those…choices.”

  “Not exactly the same category, Niki, and not for the same reasons.” She sighed, running fingers through her hair and pulling it away from her forehead. “Madeira is great in a lot of ways, sure. But I can’t see her ever being faithful to one woman. Epic fail. She’s automatically out.”

  “Grace, babe, when I first met you, I couldn’t see you being faithful to one woman.”

  Heat suffused Grace’s skin. “What are you trying to say?”

  Niki reached over and covered Grace’s hand, flashing an apologetic smile. “I say this with the utmost love and respect because you’re my second best friend next to Bree.” Niki paused, and Grace held her breath. “Don’t be so hypocritical as to judge Madeira more harshly than you’d judge yourself. She doesn’t sound at all like your ex-girlfriends.” A beat passed. “She sounds exactly like you.”

  Defensiveness stiffened Grace’s spine. “But I’ve changed.”

  Nik squeezed her hand and smiled. “Ah, yes. And I guess you’re the only person in history to have accomplished that, hmm?”

  Grace shook her head, equal parts sheepish and defensive. “Not the point.”

  “You’re fighting too hard, G. And as your friend, as someone who loves you, warts and all, that tells me you’re afraid. Probably because Madeira’s perfect for you, and you just can’t accept the fact that you deserve her.”

  Grace stared at Niki’s smooth, angled profile, and had just opened her mouth to explain that she didn’t want Madeira, deserving or not, when Niki turned onto her street.

  Nik’s expression morphed into one of panic, and she accelerated. “Holy crap,” she said.

  “What?” Grace glanced toward her house and saw an ambulance idling in the driveway. The front door to the house stood open. Her pulse took off at a gallop toward a murky, desperate destination she didn’t even want to ponder. All thoughts, all worries, all considerations fled, except one.

  DoDo.

  Chapter Nine

  Amor no respeta ley, ni obedece a rey.

  Love laughs at locksmiths.

  Niki threw her shoulder under Grace’s arm to help her rush up the sidewalk toward the house without further straining her bad leg. Grace burst through the door, breathing heavily, with Niki at her side in much the same state.

  “DoDo! Lola!” Grace hollered, whipping a glance around the foyer and living room. Lola shouldn’t be home from work yet, but maybe…? Thinking she heard some noise from the kitchen, Grace took off that way, praying DoDo had remembered to slip her nitroglycerin bottle into her apron pocket this morning. Sometimes she forgot.

  Oh, God. Please not today.

  “DoDo!” Grace yelled again, and then the sound of laughter stopped her short in the middle of the dining room. Niki slammed into her back with an “oof!”

  “Graciela?” A healthy-looking DoDo peered out the doorway of the kitchen to where Grace and Niki stood. “What are you bellowing about, m’ija? Oh, hello, Nicole, honey.” DoDo absolutely glowed in the presence of guests. “So nice of you to stop by.”

  “Hi, DoDo,” Niki said, confused. “It’s good to see you looking so…well.”

  Grace blinked, her brain not quite processing this new information quickly enough. Her chest rose and fell in quick trembles of panic and adrenaline. “What the hell? Are y-you okay?”

  DoDo’s forehead crinkled. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Grace pointed vaguely toward the front of the house. “The—the ambulance. I thought…I thought you were—” To her horror, tears choked her words and blurred her eyes. “I thought s-something had happened to you or that you w-were ill, Abuelita.”

  DoDo’s face softened, and Niki moved forward to console Grace with a hug. Grace turned toward her friend and fell into the embrace, grateful for the comfort. She struggled to rein in her emotion, but a rogue tear escaped and rolled down her cheek anyway.

  “Oh ,m’ija, your old abue isn’t as fragile as that. Our good Lord knows if She comes for me before my girls are paired up and settled, I’m digging in my heels, anyway.” DoDo came closer and rubbed her back, the same way she’d always done when Grace had cried for her mama in the years right after she’d died.

  “Then why is there an amb—” Grace heard chairs scraping back in the kitchen and turned her head toward DoDo.

  “The ambulance? Oh, honey. Madeira and Simon stopped by to talk to you. That’s all.” Madeira appeared in the doorway behind DoDo, her expression moving from pleasant welcome to surprise, to sparking jealousy at the picture of Grace in Niki’s muscle-roped arms. Madeira’s gorgeous eyes went dull just as tall, redheaded Simon appeared behind her, waving a hello.

  “Oh.” Grace spun. “Oh! I didn’t even think…”

  “Hey, Gracie,” Madeira said, her tone reserved, wary.

  “Maddee, Jesus! You, too, Simon.” She laid a palm on her chest and shook her head as if to rattle the stupid out. “Y-you guys scared the crap out of me.” She wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand, laughing self-consciously. “DoDo has heart problems. I worry.”

  “You worry too much, m’ijita,” DoDo said. “I’m a tough old bird, you know.”

  “I’m sorry to have frightened you.” Madeira laid a hand gently on DoDo’s slight shoulder. “DoDo said you’d be home soon and offered us some cookies and milk while we waited. How could we refuse cookies and milk?” Madeira’s gaze flickered toward Niki. “But perhaps this isn’t the best time to talk.” Moving forward, Madeira extended a hand stiffly toward Niki. “I’m Madeira Pacias.”

  Nik grinned, shaking the proffered hand warmly. “Hey, it’s great to finally meet you.” Madeira didn’t reciprocate the enthusiasm, Grace noticed. “Niki Montoya.”

  Grace glanced curiously between the two women, just as Madeira turned to her partner. She jerked her head toward the front of the house. “Vamos. Grace is busy. We’ll come back later.”

  “No, wait,” Grace, Niki, and Simon all said at once. They glanced around in surprise at one another and laughed. Simon leaned in and introduced himself, and the group exchanged handshakes.

  Niki jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. “Look, don’t let me interrupt. I just gave Grace a ride home. I’m not staying.”

  A muscle in Madeira’s jaw jumped. “Don’t leave on our account.”

  Niki held up both palms. “I’m not. Really.” She touched Grace’s shoulder. “Don’t forget to ask them, Grace.”

  “Ask us what?” Madeira said.

  Niki leaned forward and kissed DoDo on the cheek, then waved at the medics. “Nice to have met you both.”

  “Thanks for the ride, Nik.”

  Nik kissed Grace on the cheek. “See you tomorrow. Rest that leg, and don’t forget to ask.”

  After Niki had ambled off toward the front of the house, DoDo clasped her hands together at the waist and beamed. “Come. Have cookies with our friends. Your leg is hurting today?”

  “A little bit, yes.” Grace shed the backpack that still hung on her shoulder and limped into the kitchen, drained now that the adrenaline rush had waned. “You two needed to talk to me?”

  Madeira nodded. “But first, what were you supposed to ask us? Your…friend…told you not to forget.”

  They all took seats around the tile-topped, wooden table, Grace accepting a glass of milk from DoDo with a smile. She set it down and looked from Simon to Madeira. “It’s about a favor, actually.” She sighed. “I don’t know how to ask except to come out and simply…ask.”

  “Uh-oh.” Simon grinned. “That sounds ominous.”

  Madeira, she noticed, still had that stormy look on her face. Hang on. Was she jealous? Of Niki? The thought made her tummy quiver with a sense of her own innate feminine power, but she ignored it and stuck to the matter at hand.

  “The kids at my school can’t seem to stop talking about the newspaper articles.”

  “Sound
s like the ambulance bay,” said Simon, with a snort.

  Grace commiserated. “The principal got the bright idea to have you two come to the school and give an assembly about safety and accident prevention.” She grimaced and flipped her hand. “Don’t feel obligated.”

  Simon leaned in, his eyes bright with excitement. “Odd that you should need a favor from us, because we need one from you as well, so this could work out dandy.” He smacked Madeira in the back, urging her, with a quick jerk of his chin, to elaborate.

  Grace raised one brow. “Oh, yeah?”

  Madeira planted her elbows on the table and ran her hands over the top of her head, a tired motion. “We’re having a benefit to raise money for new ambulances, and we haven’t been able to find a bartender. Simon suggested we ask if you wouldn’t mind throwing in for the cause since you used to tend bar. All the other medics went in for it big time.”

  And how do you feel about it, Madeira? She didn’t look too thrilled about the prospect. Grace sat back in her chair. She supposed if they agreed to help her, she could reciprocate. Even if they didn’t. She did, after all, owe a huge debt of gratitude to the paramedics who had helped her at the accident scene. To Madeira herself, for that matter. But it had been a few years since she’d mixed. “Oh. Well, I don’t see why not. Actually, I’d be glad to pitch in.”

  Both of them smiled, Madeira in relief, it seemed. “Really?”

  “Sure.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’m a little rusty, you realize. How big a benefit are we talking about? What is it, some kind of dinner dance?”

  Madeira swallowed hard and looked down at the table.

  “Ah, a little different from that.” Simon pulled a folded piece of paper out of her shirt pocket, smoothed it, and shoved it toward her.

  Grace grabbed the flyer. It looked like a wanted poster featuring…Madeira. An advertisement for—oh, well, she might have known. Despite her efforts to remember this was all for charity, her stomach sank a bit. No wonder Madeira didn’t want her there. After all the publicity, Grace would cramp her style. “Well, well. This ought to bring in some money,” she murmured.

  “The flyer was their idea,” Madeira said, an air of defensiveness in her tone. “And all the single EMTs and paramedics will be auctioned, not just me. It’s for new rigs.”

  DoDo moved in close to read over her shoulder. She erupted into cackles. “If I wasn’t on a fixed income, m’ija, I would bid on you myself. You’re a looker.”

  Madeira winked at her, truly appreciative.

  “Okay, I’ll tend bar at your event.” Grace cleared her throat. “As long as you two can get it cleared with your department to do the safety assembly and bring an ambulance for the kids to see.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Simon said, pulling out a pocket calendar and leafing through the pages. “When are you looking to host this thing?”

  “The faculty thinks this Friday would be best, while the news is still fresh in the kids’ minds.” She grimaced with apology. “I know it’s short notice.”

  “We can work it out, Gracie,” Madeira said, her words seeming to have a deeper meaning than what they conveyed on the surface. Or maybe wishful thinking had Grace reading meaning into a simple statement. Still, Madeira’s level whiskey rumble went down like a much-needed shot.

  Their gazes met.

  Held.

  Pulled away.

  Grace swallowed with some difficulty. “Does late afternoon work? I know you two work nights.”

  “They’ll let us flex our hours,” Simon said. “Something like this is great PR. Maybe we can pass out some auction flyers to the faculty while we’re there. Got any cute teachers?”

  “None as cute as Gracie, I’m sure,” Madeira said, in that too calm voice that stole Grace’s breath.

  “W-we have a whole school of attractive teachers,” she said, ignoring the velvety compliment, trying not to be so attuned to the woman who’d delivered it.

  “You think Lola would put flyers in her salon?” Madeira asked.

  Grace smirked. “If you asked her, she would. I mean, if you asked her to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, she’d probably at least consider it.”

  Madeira smiled.

  “You leave some of those flyers with me, kids,” said DoDo from the sink, where she rinsed dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. “I can hand them out to the women in Peacemakers. My quilting bee,” she added with a smile.

  “Really, DoDo?” Grace asked. “You think they’d be interested in this?”

  “Hey, it’s for a good cause. Don’t discount us older women. We may have a few wrinkles, but some of my friends made out like bandits when their husbands passed, God rest their weary souls.” She crossed herself, and everyone laughed.

  “Okay,” Simon prompted, clapping his large hands together once, then swishing his palms against one another decisively. “That wasn’t half as difficult as you thought it would be, eh, Ms. Pac-Man?” He grinned at his partner.

  Grace cocked her head questioningly.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d do it,” Madeira said, looking sheepish.

  “Well, of course I’ll do it.” She tried to convey her appreciation with her eyes. “Without EMS, without you, I’d still be under that car.”

  Grace’s attraction to Madeira jacked the tension in the room to a near-unbearable level, and Madeira’s energy reciprocated. Grace wondered if DoDo or Simon noticed.

  “Then it’s all settled. One hand washes the other and everything gets clean,” DoDo said, closing the dishwasher door and starting the cycle. She scuttled to the table and nudged the cookie plate more to the center. “Now, eat. Eat!”

  Grace and Madeira reached for cookies, and their hands collided above the plate. Both of them pulled back as though the connection burned, then their eyes met and held. Little zaps of desire moved between them, and Grace couldn’t look away, didn’t want to. Madeira’s eyes remained hard, though. Almost sad, and yet she seemed unable to break the spell.

  The whole interaction made Grace’s stomach flutter with worry.

  Madeira wasn’t flirting at all, and that just didn’t seem…normal.

  The EMT radio crackled and Simon pulled the pac-set from his equipment belt, moving to the other side of the room to reply to dispatch’s query. After a moment, he returned to the table.

  “We’ve got a transport, Mad, but non-emergent. I’ll head out to the rig and fire up the run sheet. You take your time, though.” Simon’s gaze conveyed some kind of meaning Grace couldn’t grasp.

  “I’ll be right out.”

  Simon turned and gave a mock salute to DoDo. “Most sincere thanks for the snack, Mrs. Obregon. I haven’t had milk and cookies in a long time, and it rocked.”

  DoDo radiated pleasure at the compliment. “I’ll walk you to the ambulance and get some of those flyers. You kids come back any time you want. I’m here all the time, and I so enjoy visitors,” she said, her voice drifting off the farther they got from the kitchen.

  Attraction still crackling between them, Grace stared at Madeira. The clock ticked, the dishwasher hummed and sloshed from the other side of the room, and hot blood drummed a sensual rhythm in her ears. Other than those sounds, the kitchen remained cloaked in a heavy, expectant, uncertain silence.

  “Maddee, what’s wrong?”

  “Who’s Niki?” she asked, pushing out the words in a voice that sounded way too calm to be safe.

  Grace’s skin tingled with understanding, but she wanted to play it cool. So, that’s what she’d seen in Maddee’s eyes—some kind of feminine possessiveness she couldn’t rein in.

  Interesting.

  Flattering.

  Alarming.

  “She’s that woman who drove me home,” she said, using Madeira’s favorite defense mechanism: humor.

  Madeira’s eyes narrowed and she smiled. Controlled, measured. “You know what I’m asking, Gracie.”

  “She’s a friend.” She picked up a cookie, took a bite, chewed
, and swallowed, her eyes never leaving her face. “A very good friend.”

  Madeira’s lips pressed into a grim line. “Are you dating her?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  In a swift, frustrated movement, Madeira pushed back from the table and stood up. She shoved her hands through her hair and paced the width of the room, looking like a freshly broken stallion, yearning to gallop off the excess energy that quivered her sleek muscles.

  Grace had never seen her like this, and it stunned her. She thought they had been playing.

  “You have to ask, Gracie?” Madeira clenched her fists, flashing a dark glance that looked almost tortured. “Because I want you and you don’t want me,” she growled, almost ashamed. “I’m trying to figure out what this Niki might have that I don’t.”

  “She has a partner, for one thing,” Grace said softly, surprised enough by Madeira’s pained outburst that she wanted to put the suspicions to rest as swiftly as possible.

  Madeira spun, toned arms standing out from her work-tapered torso.

  Wow, seeing Grace with Niki had sincerely bothered Madeira. Grace would’ve never imagined…

  “Excuse me?”

  “Bree.” Grace took a sip of milk, mostly to steady her own voice. “The woman Niki’s going to spend the rest of her life with, her one true love.”

  Madeira cocked her head to the side, her stance rigid, body flexed. “I don’t get it. You’d rather date a woman who has a girlfriend than one who is single but has been around the block a couple times? Of all the convoluted logic, Gracie, I—”

  “Of course not.” Grace stood and crossed the room to stand before Madeira, stunned by the power of the tension radiating from her body. She gentled her tone. “When I said Niki was my friend, Maddee, I meant it.” She paused to let that sink in. “I wasn’t being coy. Niki and I went to college together and we teach at the same school. She’s helping me rehabilitate my leg, and she gives me rides home now and then.” Grace shrugged, flipping her palms up at the same time. “That’s it. Friendship, and not with benefits. Nik’s seven years younger than I am.”