The Name of the Game

by Jennifer Dawson

  It was time to face the music and eat some crow.

  Even if it was like glass going down.

  The trendy hotspot was packed, the din of the crowd an octave over reasonable. As Gracie walked through the restaurant on her way to the bar, where everyone was waiting, the energy crackled around her. Chicago had an electricity that couldn’t be matched in Revival, where everything was lazy and serene and everyone knew everyone. In Revival, she couldn’t sneeze without the whole town taking notice, but here, in this vast city with its skyscrapers and endless lakefront, a person could get lost. As much as she loved the small, cozy town she called home, at times the thought appealed to her.

  A million years ago she’d dreamed of leaving Revival and moving to the big city, but then her mom had gotten sick with the cancer that would eventually take her life and Gracie couldn’t bear to leave. After her mom died, Gracie hadn’t wanted to leave Sam alone, and eventually the dreams faded until they were nothing but the memories of a young girl. Now, she no longer thought of leaving. Revival was home. Her rock.

  She shook her head, ridding herself of the past and focusing on her immediate future. The bar was packed and she wormed her way through the crowd, searching for her friends. A man leered at her chest and licked his lips. Ick. She skirted away before he could get any ideas, turned and froze.

  James stood there with her friends—dressed in his black pants and matching V-neck pullover—looking almost trendy with his hands shoved into his pockets. Tonight, he didn’t look anything like the geek stereotype she’d boxed him into, but that’s not what stopped her cold.

  The woman he smiled down at did.

  A tall, strikingly beautiful woman, with cool Grace Kelly blond hair and the poise of a dancer, spoke to James, her hand on his arm.

  He threw his head back and laughed at whatever she said.

  Gracie’s stomach dropped.

  The woman’s chin tilted as she gazed at James adoringly.

  “Gracie, over here,” Maddie called, breaking her from her trance.

  She squared her shoulders. Big deal. She didn’t care if he talked to a woman. Besides, it was probably nothing. Maybe a friend of Shane’s and Cecilia’s. And even if it was something, it didn’t mean anything to Gracie.

  James’s dating life was none of her concern.

  With purpose, she strolled across the space that separated her from the group, and James looked her way. His expression flickered, then smoothed back over.

  When Gracie joined the group, Cecilia covered her arm with her hand. “Everything okay?”

  “Of course,” Gracie said, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Not willing to stand there like an idiot, she turned toward the woman with James and held out her hand. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Gracie Roberts.”

  “Lindsey Lord.” The woman shook her hand. Her fingers so delicate Gracie worried she’d crush them.

  Gracie plastered on her best smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you joining us for dinner?”

  Lindsey’s hand fluttered to her décolletage and nonexistent chest. The muscles of her shoulders were sinewy and supple, and as far as Gracie could see, the woman didn’t have an ounce of fat on her. Gracie was positive the woman didn’t eat cupcakes and hated her instantly on principle alone. “Goodness, no, I’m with people. But when I saw James I had to come and say hello.” Voice cloying, she beamed at him, her teeth perfectly straight and impossibly white. “It’s been far too long.”

  Lindsey was definitely flirting, quite overtly.

  Not that Gracie cared; she was just surprised. Sure, he was cute. And, yes, he had a spectacular body, but he was hardly a rock star like Lindsey’s gaze seemed to indicate.

  Gracie assessed Lindsey Lord with a critical eye. She must like her men on the sedate side.

  Which sucked for her, but had nothing to do with Gracie. A sting of pain radiated from her palms and she realized she was digging her nails into her skin. She relaxed her fingers.

  The hostess came up and said to Shane, “Mr. Donovan, your table is ready.”

  Shane straightened, sliding his arm around Cecilia’s waist, as he glanced back and forth between James and Lindsey.

  What was that about?

  James nodded. “Go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Shane frowned, obviously reluctant to leave his baby brother.

  James’s brow rose and he tilted his head toward the waiting hostess.

  Cecilia elbowed him and Shane gave up, turning.

  Maddie looked back over her shoulder as they started walking, and waved. “It was nice to see you again, Lindsey.”

  “You too,” Lindsey said, her attention already returning to James.

  Who was that woman? Why did the Donovans all know her?

  As they were led through the crowded restaurant, Gracie trailed behind, unable to resist looking back. James didn’t notice as he focused completely on Lindsey, smiling in a way he never smiled at Gracie.

  Wait. Gracie blinked, her heart speeding up. Was she his girlfriend? Were they, like, a couple? But nobody had ever mentioned him having a girlfriend. Maddie had never mentioned it. Cecilia hadn’t. God knew James had never said anything. Surely, at some point, someone would have said something. Gracie’s mind searched frantically through a year’s worth of conversation only to discover she hardly knew anything personal about the professor.

  So it was possible.

  But then why wasn’t she joining them for dinner?

  As soon as they’d sat down, Maddie worried at her bottom lip as she looked back to where James still stood. “I hope that’s not trouble.”

  Gracie’s ears perked up. What was this? She quelled the urge to twist around and check out what he was doing. She cursed her choice of a spot. Damn it. She couldn’t see anything.

  Shane peered over Gracie’s shoulder to where his brother stood, and scowled.

  What was going on? What was he frowning at? She gripped her menu. She had to know. Not because she cared, but because she was curious. She’d always been a curious person. Her momma had always said as much.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine. That was a long time ago,” Shane said.

  Okay, that sounded like the past. But Gracie couldn’t be sure with the way they’d looked at each other, with those sweet smiles. Or the way Lindsey fluttered her thick lashes at him. And the tilt of James’s body into her frail frame.

  Gracie needed to know what they were talking about right now. But she couldn’t very well ask. She scanned the table and settled on her target. Mitch. After living next door to him for so many years in Revival, she’d been friends with him longer than anyone else at the table. She picked up her water glass, cleared her throat, and zeroed in on him. She narrowed her eyes, staring at him until he sensed her and glanced in her direction.

  Ask what’s going on. Ask what’s going on. Ask what’s going on. A frantic chant in her head.

  Amber eyes dancing with amusement, he raised a brow. “What?”

  Stupid man. She sighed and tilted her head fractionally at his wife.

  Mitch stared at her for ten full seconds and then comprehension dawned, lighting his expression. He poked Maddie’s waist, and pointed in Gracie’s direction. “Gracie wants to know what’s going on.”

  The rat bastard. She huffed. “You’re the worst friend ever.”

  With a sly smile, he shrugged. “Turnabout is fair play.”

  “What did I ever do to you?”

  “Do you want a list?”

  Since they’d known each other since childhood, when Mitch and Cecilia would come visit their grandparents in Revival every summer, Gracie wasn’t surprised he had a standing list of grievances.

  She shifted her attention toward Maddie. Cover blown, she might as well ask all the questions burning a hole in her gut. “Who is that woman?”

  Maddie glanced around and leaned forward.

  Gracie held her breath. It was his girlfriend. Gracie could feel it in her bones.

/>   “Lindsey and James met in graduate school,” Maddie said.

  Gracie experienced a sinking in her stomach.

  “They were together for five years. We thought they were going to get married, but then one day she wasn’t with him for Sunday dinner,” Maddie continued, ripping Gracie away from the questions racing through her head.

  Gracie released her pent-up breath. Not a girlfriend. An ex-girlfriend. But, still, there were obviously feelings there. Or were there? She got along famously with Charlie. They even flirted sometimes. It was possible to have a good, nonsexual relationship with someone you used to sleep with. She was living proof of that.

  But she didn’t look at Charlie like she wanted to eat him for dinner.

  Gracie blinked, realizing Maddie was still talking.

  “We asked what happened, but all he would say was that they were no longer together. He refused to say why the relationship ended.” She turned her extremely cute but worried face toward Shane. “Has he even seen her since then? Or is this the first time?”

  Shane shrugged. “I have no idea. You know how he is.”

  Questions burned in Gracie’s brain, but, afraid they’d tumble out and reveal her unnatural curiosity, she pressed her lips together and prayed Maddie would fill in the silence. When she didn’t, Gracie coolly turned her attention to the menu. “Interesting.”

  “What’s interesting?” James asked from behind her, making her jump, thus explaining why Maddie hadn’t elaborated. He slid into the empty seat next to Gracie.

  Silence filled the table as they all looked at him.

  He raised a brow.

  Gracie waited for Shane or Maddie to say something, but they didn’t.

  The silence grew.

  “What’s going on?” James asked, his tone filled with suspicion.

  “Nothing,” Maddie said, straightening in her chair.

  More awkward silence.

  Something broke inside Gracie and, per usual, her mouth ran away with her. “We were talking about you and your ex-girlfriend. They’re worried you’re going to freak out over seeing her.”

  The whole table gaped at her, and heat crawled up her neck. She tilted her chin and said before she put any thought into it, “And what kind of name is Lindsey Lord? Is she a stripper?”

  James blinked at Gracie, a smile threatening at the corners of his mouth. He raised a brow. “Stripper?” The idea of the refined Lindsey circling a stripper pole was laughable. Lindsey was so far from anything resembling a porn star, the notion was preposterous. She was refined, highly intelligent, and very well respected in her field. “She’s a physicist at the University of Chicago.”

  Gracie frowned and waved her hand through the air. “Same difference.”

  James laughed, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Hardly. But I can assure you I’m not about to freak out.”

  Shane drained half a glass of water before he said, “Yeah, you never do.”

  Maddie leaned forward, her expression concerned. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” James turned to his menu, hoping to close the subject. They’d assumed Lindsey had ended their relationship and left him heartbroken, and he’d never bothered to disabuse them of the notion. The truth was, he’d broken up with her and let people fill in the blanks as they chose. His rationale had been twofold: he’d wanted to protect her privacy, and it freed him from explaining his unexplainable actions.

  After five years together, Lindsey had wanted to get engaged. It made sense. On paper, she’d been perfect for him. She was smart, beautiful, and accomplished. They had the same interests, same educational background, were both in academia, and had the same values and life goals. Lindsey was about as perfect for him as a woman could get, but something had been missing. Every time he’d planned on buying an engagement ring, he hadn’t been able to walk into the store.

  He’d searched his mind for what it was and couldn’t come up with a sound justification for his apathy. The only thing he’d been able to pinpoint was that he’d never looked at her the way his dad had looked at his mom. An abstract reason, but true, nonetheless. His world had been pleasant when she’d been around. He’d enjoyed her company. But the sun didn’t rise and fall because of her, and in the end, it wasn’t enough.

  No one had ever guessed he’d been the one to break her heart. She’d been devastated, he’d felt horrible, and letting people think she’d dumped him seemed the kind thing to do.

  Despite what his family believed, he’d seen her numerous times since the breakup, although it had been a while. Not so long that he didn’t recognize her flirting, or the way her lashes fluttered at him. If he chose, tonight after dinner, he could go to her house and she’d let him in. They’d go to bed and the sex would be great. They’d talk and laugh. Share stories about students and colleagues. Discuss papers they’d written and fall right back into the old rhythms of their relationship. But, in the morning, he still wouldn’t look at her the right way, and he wouldn’t be able to explain why, any better than the first time.

  “Not true,” Gracie said, stirring him from his thoughts. “You freaked out at me.”

  James turned to the woman who was equal parts nightmare and fantasy. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

  Gracie shook her head, her curls flying. “You were definitely mad.”

  “You provoked me.” Mad wasn’t the right word. She frustrated him. He’d never been attracted to someone he had nothing in common with. Who disliked him so intensely. How could he barely be in the same room with her without an argument, and still want her?

  She sighed, a deep, resigned sound. “Yeah, I did and I’m sorry.”

  Surprise lit through him. Had he heard her right? From the corner of his vision he could see the two couples watching them with rapt attention. He shrugged. “I might have overreacted a little.”

  “I pushed,” she said, a smile flirting over her lips. She tilted her head toward the couples. “Maybe, for the sake of the lovebirds, we could call a truce?”

  It had been his goal all day, so why didn’t it sit well with him? He nodded. “I’d like that.”

  Their gazes locked, and a glimmer of something passed between them, before she jerked her attention away and picked up her menu. “It’s settled then. What’s good here?”

  As usual, everyone started talking at once.

  James returned to his own menu, scanning the items, not really paying attention to the food or the conversation. Her desire to call a truce sat like a thorn in his side. He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do this morning, but at an unwelcome cost.

  The truth.

  A part of him liked how she baited him, because deep down he’d wanted to believe it meant something. When he’d stayed behind to talk to Lindsey, it hadn’t been to catch up with her. He’d wanted to see if Gracie might get jealous.

  Lindsey was a beautiful woman, and he couldn’t deny he’d wanted Gracie to see that he wasn’t quite the geek she thought he was. That, while she believed he sat in his basement playing World of Warcraft, in reality he was as capable as any other man of landing a pretty girl.

  But, as with all his plans with Gracie, it had backfired. While she seemed interested in his relationship with Lindsey, and her barb about Lindsey’s name rang with a hint of jealousy, she now wanted to drop the hostility. After being nice to Gracie all day, now that she’d met Lindsey she wanted to call a truce. He pondered what it meant. Why did she have to be such a difficult read? He didn’t have this kind of trouble with other women. In fairness, with another woman, he’d ask her to explain and expect a straightforward answer. An option not available to him and the vexing Gracie, where every conversation, no matter how simple, turned into a raging fight.

  So, with direct communication off the table, he could only apply the Occam’s razor principle to derive the most logical conclusion. Gracie, like him, wished he’d meet someone, thereby rendering their chemistry moot. Thus, when s
he met Lindsey, she’d determined James no longer posed a threat and she could therefore relax.

  It was the simplest, most straightforward reason.

  He should be happy about this turn of events. In fact, this worked in his favor, since they were as incompatible as two people could be. Even if attraction existed, there was no future there. The thought of all her chaos in his well-ordered life was enough to give him hives.

  Now that things were settled he’d be able to have a nice, cordial relationship with her. He’d treat her like he treated his coworkers. Since she’d decided to stop baiting him, he, in turn, would stop thinking about her sassy mouth. He’d force himself to stop thinking about ways he could put all that energy she had to good use. Or what it would be like to—no, stop.

  No traveling down that road. He’d spent years mastering the art of discipline, and he’d apply the same principles to his relationship with her.

  Eventually his willpower would win. It always did.

  Gracie had given up on sleep and crept downstairs to sit in the bay window of Shane and Cecilia’s new house. She hadn’t wanted to stay, insisting that the couple should be alone on their first night, but they’d refused to listen. Seeing how Mitch and Maddie stayed as well, Gracie didn’t have a great argument for going to a hotel.

  She sighed. Her body was exhausted but her mind wouldn’t let her rest, so here she was, in the dark, amidst half-empty boxes.

  The city skyline was lit up, still awake and alive despite the late hour. Back home it would be pitch-black and dead silent, the sky filled with nothing but a million stars. She stared up into the sky, gray with light pollution, and missed the comfort back home.

  Tonight had confused her. She’d kept her promise and been nice to James. Some of their antagonism seemed to have broken. She should be thankful. But she wasn’t.

  And the thing she hated most was that she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She’d been lying in bed, staring at the newly painted ceiling, unable to stop replaying every interaction she’d had with him today. Sure, she focused on the things that annoyed her—like how he’d had ahi tuna for dinner and berries for dessert, while she’d gorged on molten lava cake—but she didn’t like how she couldn’t stop.