The Solid Grounds Coffee Company

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The Solid Grounds Coffee Company Page 12

by Carla Laureano


  “You really expect me to think you suddenly grew a conscience, that you care about the global good?” Roger took a swig of his beer and then signaled the bartender for another one. “Tell me the truth. It’s because of the chick.”

  “The chick is a good friend of mine,” Bryan said, keeping his tone casual. “I brought her on to help because she has a background in marketing, which I most certainly don’t have.”

  “C’mon. You want me to believe you aren’t hitting that? She’s just your type.”

  Bryan ground his teeth together. The only thing that stayed his retort was the realization that he had earned that reputation. That he had been the kind of man Roger was expecting now. He clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m going to go say hi to a few people. Congratulations on your upcoming marriage. I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”

  He blew out his breath and wove his way through the crowd to where Ana was standing talking to a couple. She brightened when she saw him and sent him a questioning look. He shook his head slightly. Her enthusiasm dimmed but she still smiled. “Bryan! There you are. I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.”

  “Hey, Bryan, I didn’t know you were back.” The man, Robert Boykin, held out his hand and used it to pull Bryan into a back-pounding hug. “Nice to see you.”

  “You too, Bobby Boy.” Bryan grinned, throwing out the hated elementary school nickname. “You look good. Still at Kramer and Associates?”

  “Nah, I went out on my own a couple of years ago.” He turned to the attractive redhead beside him. “I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Roberta?”

  Bryan paused. “Robert and Roberta?”

  “Robert and Bobbi, actually.” She gave a helpless laugh as she shook Bryan’s hand. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

  “Apparently not. Bob and Bobbi Boykin.” The grin came back. “You two have any kids?”

  “One,” Bobby—er, Robert—said. “A little girl, turned two last week.”

  “And I promise, her name is no variation of Bob. We named her Lily.”

  “Good call.” Bryan turned to Ana. “You’ve obviously met my friend and business advisor, Ana?”

  “She was just telling us about your new business,” Bobbi said. “Sounds interesting. I had no idea that farmers were converting from cocaine to coffee.”

  Robert lifted his eyebrows. “And I had no idea you were interested in anything like this. Quite a departure from your climbing career, isn’t it?”

  Quite a change from caring about no one but himself, he meant. “Yeah, I’m getting that a lot, actually. But we all change, hopefully for the better. I seem to remember a time when you swore you would be single forever, Robert.”

  His friend laughed. “Well, it was beginning to feel like that. But when you meet the right person, you know.”

  “Do you?” Bryan said, without thinking. At their surprised looks—Ana’s included—he smiled. “I guess you do. The fact I can ask the question just shows I haven’t found her yet.”

  “Oh.” Bobbi’s eyes flicked to Ana. They obviously hadn’t believed it when he said they were just friends and business associates.

  “I’m going to get a drink,” Ana said. “You want anything?”

  “You don’t need to do that. I’ll get them.”

  “We can go together.” She turned to the couple and held out her hand. “It was truly a pleasure meeting you. Will you be around here for a while? I’d love to talk more and hear about that adorable daughter of yours.”

  “I’d love that,” Bobbi said genuinely. “We probably won’t stay long, though. Not really into this scene these days.”

  “I hear you,” Ana said with sympathy. “It’s a sign we’re getting old. We like to be able to hear each other talk.”

  Bryan shook hands with them as well and let Ana steer him back to the bar. “You’re impressive to watch.”

  “They’re nice people. I enjoyed meeting them. But they’re not investors.”

  “You don’t think so? She’s carrying a Prada purse, and unless I miss my mark, he’s wearing a Rolex.”

  “The purse is four seasons old and the Rolex is fake,” she said. “They want to get home so they don’t have to pay the babysitter extra.”

  Ouch. He glanced back at the couple, who were having an intense conversation under their breath, about what, he couldn’t guess. Ana probably could, though.

  “What about you? The happy groom have anything interesting to say?”

  “Just that he doesn’t believe I’ve suddenly grown a conscience.”

  Ana grimaced. “Sorry. That’s the problem with old friends. They have long memories.”

  Something in the tone of her voice made him think she wasn’t talking about him now, but before he could explore that idea further, he caught sight of a familiar man making his way from the pool tables in their direction.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Ana had picked up on his tension, apparently, and she tried to look in that direction, but he grabbed her arm.

  “Let’s just say I didn’t think Adrian would be here tonight.”

  Ana leaned forward to take her drink from the bartender and casually took a sip as she looked around. “He looks ticked. What did you do to the guy?”

  “Dated his sister. And dumped her. Quickly.”

  “Oh.” Ana seemed to read the subtext of the statement, and her expression shifted to one of wariness. “What do you want to do?”

  “Other than go back in time? Not sure there’s anything I can do. Just brace yourself.”

  Adrian approached, a beer bottle clutched in his hand, but there was nothing in his expression that said it wasn’t his first. “You’re back.”

  Bryan met his eyes directly. “I am.”

  “Too bad. Amy will be sorry to hear that.”

  “About that—” Bryan began, even though he didn’t know what he could say that would make it any better. It had been a mistake? Everyone knew that. That they’d both been drunk, and Bryan had assumed she was looking for a one-night stand like he was? No, that wouldn’t help.

  “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Ana.” She inserted herself between them and held out her hand.

  His eyes flicked down to her, and his expression softened a little. “I’m Adrian.”

  “It’s a pleasure. I don’t suppose you’re up to another game? I’ve been thinking I should finally play pool, but I haven’t gotten up the courage to break up your little crew over there.”

  “Your boyfriend would be okay with that?” His eyes flicked to Bryan and hardened again.

  “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” she said airily. “We work together and he gave me a ride. What do you say? Got time for a game or two?”

  “Sure.” He cocked his head and Ana followed, strutting toward the table with him.

  Bryan watched, his throat tight, as Adrian helped her choose a cue from the rack by the pool table and then cleared everyone else away. “What are you playing at here, Ana?” he murmured.

  Adrian wasn’t a bad guy, despite the homicidal way he was looking at Bryan. He’d been another college friend, albeit a couple of years behind him. Bryan just hadn’t realized he had such a long memory or a vengeful streak. Probably wouldn’t have stopped him from taking Amy home, but he might have waited longer to disabuse her of her mistaken romantic notions.

  Man, he’d been a creep. Maybe he deserved to lose everything in repayment for his actions.

  But the farmers and the coffee pickers on his farm didn’t deserve to lose their salary or be forced back into an industry that harmed their region, their families. And he knew all too well that the farm wasn’t going to be sustainable for him unless he could roast and sell the beans at a profit. He needed to make this work. Which meant that he needed to circulate and reconnect with old friends and contacts.

  Except he couldn’t do anything but sit on this barstool and stare at the pool table, where Ana was laughing at something Adrian had said. He was behind her, showing her how to li
ne up a shot, his body just close enough to make a statement. No, an offer. One that, if Bryan was judging from Ana’s body language, wasn’t altogether unwelcome.

  Bryan turned away. He was wrong. He couldn’t watch this, not when the sight of Ana looking up at Adrian filled him with cold fury.

  Not when he knew he had no right to feel that way.

  * * *

  Ana had Adrian pegged before they got to the pool table. He was handsome, bordering on beautiful, and he knew it. Gym-rat physique, close-cropped dark hair, and bronzed Latin looks, pretty much the opposite of Bryan, though she wasn’t sure why that thought would occur to her now. And for all his playacting, his irritation over what had happened with his sister was long gone. It was merely posturing, part of Adrian’s tough exterior, and she could tell right now he was a lover, not a fighter.

  Or at least he thought of himself that way.

  “So tell me, Adrian, what do you do?” she asked, letting him lead her to the pool table.

  “I’m in venture capital,” he said.

  “No kidding.” She didn’t need to pretend interest. When she’d drawn him away from Bryan, she’d just been trying to defuse the situation, but it couldn’t have worked out better had she planned it. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met a venture capitalist before. What do you specialize in?”

  “Manufacturing, mostly. Just invested in a little Paleo foods start-up out of Broomfield. Velocity Organics. You heard of them?”

  Bingo. This was their whale. “Really? They’re going to be huge. The next big thing. I’ve heard whispers that Starbucks is thinking about buying them.”

  “And if they do, we’ll cash in big time.”

  “That’s impressive. I know you’re probably a good judge of business ideas, but it’s still a bit of a gamble, isn’t it?”

  “What can I say? I’m a risk taker.” He flashed her a set of straight white teeth, and she barely kept herself from rolling her eyes even while a plan formed in her mind. He’d assumed that her statement earlier meant she couldn’t play pool, so she went with it, letting him help her choose a pool cue and show her how to line up the shots. She took her time, hitting a few good ones, letting some others spin purposely off-angle. At the end, she’d only sunk three of her balls, but Adrian was still looking pretty proud of his victory.

  “I feel like I’m starting to get this,” she said. “I think I might even beat you the next round.”

  Adrian sidled close to her. “You think so, huh?”

  “I do.” She looked up at him, letting a smile play at the corners of her mouth. “Why don’t we put a wager on it?”

  He dipped his head closer to her, getting into her personal space. If she were the least bit interested in him, she’d have flutters in her stomach right now. As it was, she just wanted to back up. “What do you intend to wager?”

  “Well, I’ve got a stake in a company that could use venture capital.”

  Something sharp glinted in his eyes, as if he smelled a setup. “You don’t say.”

  “I do say. And it’s something that would fit right into your portfolio.”

  “You’re asking for what? An investment?”

  “Not an investment. Just a meeting with you and your partners. I’ve got an advisory share in this business, and between you and me, I wouldn’t bother if I didn’t think I could make money. But we need start-up capital.”

  He stepped back, his expression closing. “I don’t mix business with pleasure. And I know a hustle when I see one.”

  Yeah, she was kind of thinking he might. “So? What do you have to lose but an hour of your time? Unless you’re not confident in your pool skills. They looked pretty good to me, but then again, you haven’t seen what I’ve got.”

  A smile returned to his face. “Okay. But I can’t be the only one risking something. You win, I give you and your business partner a meeting. I win, you go on a date with me.”

  “Now that doesn’t seem equitable,” she said, a teasing note in her voice.

  “Those are my terms.”

  She held those dark eyes with her own and then gave a little nod. “You’re on. I’ll even let you break.”

  He grabbed the square of chalk and twisted it viciously onto the tip of his cue. A glint of determination showed in his eyes. Now she knew she’d read him right. Arrogant, in constant need of challenge, a chance to prove himself. He must know now that her novice act had been a put-on, but he was sure enough in his skills to pit them against whatever she might bring to the table. Or maybe he just thought women couldn’t play pool. Either way, it was irrelevant. She wasn’t going out on a date with this guy, and they needed that meeting.

  She set up the table and then shoved the rack beneath it. As she stood back, her eyes automatically wandered to where she’d left Bryan at the bar. He was gone. Great. Hopefully he hadn’t decided to take off without her. Surely he could guess what she was doing here.

  “One ball, corner pocket,” Adrian said, then proceeded to sink it with precision. No hesitation, just the confidence of a man who had spent way too much time at the table. He proceeded to sink the next three with the same directness.

  And then on his fifth shot, he hit the cue ball just off-center, enough to alter its spin. The five ball hit the edge of the pocket and veered off. Adrian swore under his breath.

  Ana didn’t bother to flirt or console. They both knew this was no longer anything personal. She chalked her cue, moved to find her position, and sank her first ball with every bit of the precision he’d shown. She glanced up at him, hoping to catch a glimmer of realization of the trouble he was in, but his eyes were fixed firmly on her backside. She straightened and sighed. So maybe this was a little personal.

  Too bad for him, she’d spent an entire year of her life in dive bars, killing time by playing pool. One after another, she called her shots and sank each ball in order. Some rammed into the back of the pocket with authority; others took their soft, precisely determined trajectory around the table. She couldn’t help looking up triumphantly at Adrian as she lined up her eighth and final shot, an easy straight shot into the side pocket. But instead of Adrian’s face she glimpsed Bryan just beyond his shoulder, his eyes fixed on her, his brow furrowed. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he looked angry.

  Or jealous.

  She blew out her breath at the sudden flip-flop of her stomach.

  “What’s wrong? Feeling the pressure?” Adrian taunted, his handsome face lighting up with amusement.

  Not anymore. She lined up the shot, pulled back the stick, and just barely tapped the cue ball to the eight ball. It placidly rolled and dropped in the pocket.

  Ana allowed herself a smile before she straightened her face and turned. Adrian was standing directly behind her, a grudging smile on his face. And between the tips of his first two fingers, a business card.

  “Fair is fair,” he said. “Call me tomorrow and we’ll set something up.”

  Ana plucked the card from his fingertips and tucked it into her pocket. “Thank you. I’ll look forward to that.”

  He stepped a bit closer and bent down. “You sure I can’t convince you of that date anyway? There’s a great new place that opened up near Union Station last week.”

  Ana peeped up at him through her lashes and gave what she hoped looked like a secretive smile. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for the game.”

  She gathered her purse and strode toward Bryan. “That was fun. Are you ready to go?”

  He studied her for a long moment. “You sure you don’t want to stay?”

  “No, I got what I came for. Let’s go. This music is giving me a headache.”

  Bryan followed her through the club to the exit, close enough that she could sense his presence. She could almost feel the tension pouring off him. What did he have to be tense about? Other than the fact his so-called friends were kind of jerks?

  They walked a safe distance apart on the sidewalk, not talking, Ana’s arms wrapped around herself against the chi
lly night, Bryan’s hands thrust in his pockets. Only when they got back to the car did he finally speak.

  “I had no idea you could play pool,” he said.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” The adrenaline of the challenge, the energy from being “on,” suddenly drained from her body and all she felt was weariness. “But we got what we came for.”

  “That’s what you said, but from my perspective it was a big bust.”

  “I thought we went to see your friends.”

  “Friends might have been overstating things.”

  “Frenemies?”

  “Guys don’t have frenemies.” The thundercloud was fading from his expression. “You know, Adrian really isn’t a bad guy. The fact he cares that much about his sister proves it.”

  “He’s over it,” Ana said. “Besides, I’m not interested in anything but his business sense and his company’s pockets.” She pulled the card from her pocket and handed it to him. “I’m supposed to call him tomorrow. He’ll take our pitch. Or more accurately, my pitch.”

  Bryan studied the card. “I don’t understand. You looked pretty cozy over there.”

  “Just business.” She took the card back and slipped it into her purse. “I played him for it. He’s a gambler. He saw the hustle coming and played me anyway.”

  Bryan nodded and put the car in gear. After they’d pulled onto the street, he said, “So I should let you take the lead on this?”

  “For now. I’ve got his attention, and this fits really nicely within his portfolio. We don’t want him to get distracted by animosity toward you. Or the burden of pretending he’s still mad. Like I said, he’s just yanking your chain.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I told you, I read people for a living.” She pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress a yawn. Why was she so tired all of a sudden?

  Another long stretch of silence and Bryan asked, “Where did you learn to play like that?”

  Ana licked her lips and stared out the window, sorting through plausible answers. In the end, she decided to just be honest.

  “You’re not the only one with a past you’d like to forget.”

 

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