Game of Love: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Lulu Pratt

  I had been in the line for a few minutes before I noticed Effie sitting at a table in the corner. She had taken off her jacket to reveal a brightly colored top. She had folded her legs underneath her, and strands of hair had escaped and framed her face as she bent in concentration over a book. I watched her for a few minutes before I realized that she was drawing rather than writing. She was completely engrossed in the task. The server handed me my coffee and sandwich, and I made my way over to her table. She looked up without recognizing me for a moment, and then stood up. Her chair scraped noisily backward, and she shoved the book and pencils into her bag, muttered something about getting back to the office, and left. It wasn’t just unlike her usual composed self; it was actually kinda rude. And it had earned me a very contrite apology when I got back to the office. I’d brushed it off, saying I didn’t mean to sneak up on her, but I can’t deny I was pleased to see her search for the right words for once.

  Anyway, Effie seemed to have recovered. I had given her my laptop, and she was glued to it now, hopefully learning enough about this virtual reality stuff to get both of us through the afternoon’s meeting. I willed myself to focus. I had quickly printed out everything I could find online about the company, but I could only get ten minutes into it before I got restless and had to make coffee. The time passed in studious silence until a bang at the door from Sean summoned us to the conference room. We both took a deep breath.

  As I walked past Sean, he hissed, “Do not screw this up for me.”

  “I won’t.” I looked at him seriously, and I could see he meant it. He wanted this, and I had no intention of standing in his way. I had learned early on to choose my battles with him, and this was one I wasn’t going to fight.

  The virtual reality entrepreneurs were three young guys, bearded with no socks, and a tendency to high-five each other. They gave us a presentation that incorporated a little dramatic skit that Sean and his pretty assistant – the latest in a long line of robotic graduates – seemed enthralled by, but I looked at my feet, cringing. Then it was time to ‘try out the tech.’ The table was pushed aside, and we were handed these clunky headsets and made to stand in the middle of the room where we were transported into a stunning three-dimensional landscape. I looked around and wished that I could step forward into the lush grasslands ahead of me, take off the headset, and leave the conference room behind. When I did take it off, the gray of the walls, carpet, and furniture felt offensive to my eyes.

  “What do you think?” one of the guys, I think his name was Paulo, asked.

  “The graphic quality is great!” I said, relieved to be able to say it truthfully.

  “I love it!” said Sean. “Everyone here at Clover House is excited about what you guys are doing. We want to invest in new technologies, new ways of bringing gaming to life.”

  I watched Effie bite her lip and play with her pen as she read over the notes in front of her. I had a feeling she was less than impressed. The technology was astounding, and I wondered, not for the first time, if anything would impress this woman.

  “What did you think, Effie?” I asked her.

  “It’s great. It really is,” she answered, not entirely convincingly.

  “But?” Sean hovered, his smile becoming wooden.

  “It’s unaffordable. For the average household, I mean. But for those who can afford it, it’s great,” she smiled.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. She must have known that accessibility and affordability were the constant mantra at Clover House. What was she playing at?

  “The retail on the headsets is going to price Clover House’s usual demographic right out of the market. I don’t know anyone who would spend that kind of money on something like this.”

  There was an awkward silence, and I scanned my notes to look for figures. She was right. The cost for one of these headsets was over two thousand dollars, and games wouldn’t be cheap. There was an awkward silence. Sean looked at me, and I could see the rage in his eyes.

  “Cost is something that we will need to look at, of course, but people will pay for quality. You don’t think the technology is appealing?” he asked Effie, and I willed her to simply agree that it was appealing and then back off.

  “It is very appealing. I’m sure most people would love to have a go. But the presentation talked about family gameplay, targeting tech-savvy teens… the headset costs more than some people spend on a vacation. I don’t think many families or teens would be able to afford one, let alone four,” she gestured at the image projected onto the wall, the closing image of the presentation, of four teenagers wearing headsets, laughing together.

  Sean cleared his throat and turned to the men who had just spent an hour selling this to us. He smiled apologetically and looked at me. There was a sharp warning in that look, and I knew this had pushed him over the edge. He had me; I couldn’t risk him making a complaint about me to our parents, or worse, to the board. This was a step too far, and I had to resolve it.

  “This is aspirational, sure, but that’s not a bad thing. And it is certainly something that we want to look at more in-depth.” I gave them my brightest smile and didn’t dare to look at Sean, hoping against hope that I had gone some way towards placating him. He clearly wanted this, and what did I care? He would have to go through the board, and they could point out the obvious problem with the pricing.

  “Let’s meet again soon, get the board interested in this, and maybe get you guys in to demo it for them?” Sean was saying, and the hipsters were smiling and nodding, hopefully having dismissed Effie’s remarks. Even if she was right in what she said.

  “Effie,” I asked politely. “Could you bring us all some coffee, and after that, you can get back to the filing.”

  “Of course,” she nodded and left the room.

  The rest of the meeting went well. I seemed to have escaped Sean’s wrath, for now. Effie was her usual composed self, perhaps even quieter than usual, if that was possible. She stayed out of my way for the rest of the day, but the looks I got from Taylor and Frank as I passed the Design team were as cold as ice. I felt guilty. Of course I did. I had asked for her help and then purposely dismissed her very valid point by making her feel beneath our consideration. It was a dick move. I tried to catch her eye as I passed, but she ignored me. I thought about calling her into the office, but to say what? Sorry I treated you like crap but I don’t want my brother to tell my ma and da on me? God, that would make me seem even more pathetic.

  Chapter 12

  FREYA

  I WAS STARTING TO see why Taylor couldn’t stand Keegan. I had finally figured him out. He was a user. He used people to get what he wanted. It was probably how he had done so well at the company. I had seen how he had implemented new strategies and improved customer relations, boosted revenue streams, and increased sales. It was all in black and white on the endless spreadsheets and company reports that I had been wading through. I’d felt a bit guilty the first time I snooped properly. It had been easy really; he had handed me his laptop to read up on stuff for a meeting he had forgotten about. He was desperate not to look like a fool, but he was clearly unprepared and wanted me to bail him out. I used the time to trawl through the files, looking for anything untoward. I didn’t find anything, but then there was just so much. But at least I knew now where to look, and there was sure to be a next time. Any feelings of guilt had quickly disappeared when he put me in my place at the same meeting. He went out of his way to make me look small and silly in front of people.

  I was glad, really. Glad that I got to see this shitty side of him. I’d been feeling quite neutral towards him; if anything, I pitied him. I thought he didn’t seem to have much of a life. Except he had surprised me one lunchtime. I was sketching in a coffee shop – I’d made a promise to myself that I would fill the empty pages in the sketchbook that Drew had returned to me, and it had been the push I’d needed to get drawing again. I looked up and there he was, this dark guy in full motorcycle leathers, molded perfectly t
o his body, the zipper of his jacket undone just a little. For a second I thought I was being approached by some god-like biker dude, and I cursed the corporate look that Effie Hancock had to wear. I wished I had been Freya Hamilton at that moment. And then I realized it was Keegan, and it was all I could do to shove my things into my bag and get out of there. I barely even spoke to him. It was excruciating back at the office when I had to apologize like I’d been a frightened little mouse and he was the cat. It was even more annoying now that I had seen what an absolute dick he could be when it suited him.

  I had fetched coffee for the conference room as he had commanded me to do, and returned to my desk. I refused to let myself get annoyed about what Keegan Callahan thought or said. I absolutely refused to think about him in his leathers. I told myself it was natural to feel attracted to a handsome stranger. There was no denying he was handsome. He was all cheekbones and his hair had a tendency to curl where it was longer… But no. I wasn’t allowing myself to go there. I hated to admit it, but Beatrix was right. Maybe I did need to get laid.

  I thought about Drew. I’d had a text message from him late the previous night, but I hadn’t replied. I took out my phone and reread the message. He wanted to meet up. And why the hell not? I thought. I suggested a late supper and he instantly replied, accepting my offer. We arranged to meet in town, and I felt my mood instantly improve. In fact, I was counting down the hours until I could get out of Clover House and forget the place.

  Those hours passed slowly, but as I made my way home in the sunshine and washed the day away in a hot shower, I began to relax. I had an hour to play with before it was time to leave, so I took time to tame my hair and put on some makeup. I chose a floaty top and skinny jeans and took my purple leather jacket off its peg. The leather brought back the memory of Keegan and I actually blushed, even though I was alone, and then chided myself for being utterly pathetic or weirdly horny. It was going to take more than Keegan Callahan to put me off my favorite jacket, I thought, and tucked it under my arm as I left my apartment.

  Drew was waiting in the park, where he said he would be. I watched him as I approached. He was wearing dark jeans and a khaki-colored shirt with a button-up sweater over it. He was bent over with his elbows on his knees, reading a magazine. When I arrived, he didn’t say hello, but got up and hugged me. It was a long hug, his arms properly wrapped around me so I felt completely enveloped in him. Why did this feel so different from when I had seen him for a beer before? I put it down to the fact that he smelled of some light cologne that reminded me of the forest. I was so glad to see someone I knew, someone I liked, after such a rotten day. On impulse, I hooked my arm into his and we set off, slowly walking in the direction of the theater district. We both knew where we were heading. Nonna’s was an Italian café that we used to go to after we had been out at a gallery or gig. It was a small, intimate little place tucked between two larger restaurants, serving snacks and light meals and the best Italian coffee in Boston.

  “I haven’t been here since the last time we were here together,” I remarked, sitting down in the familiar booth and marveling inwardly that very little had changed. The walls were still pasted with old advertisements from Italian newspapers. A series of mismatched chandeliers and candlesticks covered in the wax of a thousand candles lent the place a sort of faded glamour that I loved.

  “I’ve been in a couple times, but it’s good to be here together.” He smiled, holding my eye for a little longer than was strictly necessary.

  We studied the menus and decided to order the appetizer platter. Back in the day, this would have been a huge treat. We had both struggled to make ends meet back then, so we would have been much more likely to share a pizza, or stick to coffee and tiramisu. Now to have this huge platter of antipasti, freshly baked bread, olives, and cheese set down between us felt like a special occasion.

  “It’s good to know that some things don’t change,” I said looking around. “I’m sure that’s the same waiter!”

  “You know what, I reckon it is!” Drew laughed. “But let’s not talk about change tonight. Let’s just eat and drink and then walk it all off. It is a beautiful evening.”

  He was right, and his light-hearted tone was a relief. It was one of those warm spring evenings that teased summer, and people were emerging into the sunshine after a long Boston winter. Everywhere people were strolling along, sitting on benches chatting, walking their dogs. There was a background hubbub of chatter and laughter both inside and outside the café, and it felt like the world was a happy place.

  “I was so tired of winter this year, it felt like it went on forever,” I said, helping myself to more bread.

  “Me too. I didn’t think I was going to still be at Dynasty Games this year, and here I am at the same job, and it is suddenly springtime,” he shrugged.

  “Weren’t you talking about going to California recently? What happened to that?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I was supposed to be taking a course out there. Animation…”

  “Like you always wanted to do!” I smiled.

  “Exactly,” he looked suddenly embarrassed. “But I got scammed. They made off with the course fees. It wasn’t just me, there were others. I lost my savings, and some I’d borrowed. My own fault, really.”

  “Isn’t there anything that can be done?” I asked, a little ashamed that I hadn’t known about this. After all, we were supposed to be friends. I wondered if my parents knew.

  “There was an investigation. It hit a dead end.” He looked hopeless, but managed a lopsided smile. I felt bad for ever wondering why he stuck it out at Dynasty Games. I’d thought he was just sticking with it because it was a steady paycheck. I found it disappointing even, because I knew he had been so ambitious.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, “and that’s why this whole thing with Animagic hit you so hard.”

  He nodded. “It’s also why I’ve been pretty distant. I let a lot of friendships go last year. I don’t know why.”

  “Hey, we’re here now, aren’t we? And I am going to take the last olive, and then we’ll be even!” I smiled, spearing the last black olive on my tiny Italian flag, and popping it in my mouth.

  Hearing him take the blame for our friendship fading made me feel even worse. Really, I had dropped him and so many friends when Jason came on the scene. Jason didn’t like Drew or any of my friends. Or me talking to other men at all, really. I was reminded afresh what an idiot I’d been to not see how controlling that had been. Then when Jason and I had ended, I didn’t feel able – or worthy – of trying to rekindle some sort of friendship. I wanted to get away from everything in my past, and Drew belonged in the past. Now I had an unsettling feeling that maybe I’d been wrong.

  “It’s a deal,” he laughed, and all traces of that sadness were gone, but I felt like it was still there, just under the surface. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to make it all better.

  “It was just as much me as it was you, you know,” I said, feeling the need to acknowledge my part in it. “I do wish we hadn’t left it quite so long.”

  “I wish lots of things,” he grinned suggestively.

  “Yeah? Like what?” I challenged him and took another sip of wine, realizing that the bottle was going down rather quickly.

  He leaned forward. “Like the fact that I never kissed you. Never took you to bed.”

  I was lost for words, but he carried on eating. The waiter came over at that moment, so I had a few seconds to recover, and he spoke to him in Italian. My Italian was basic, but I noticed that Drew’s had certainly improved. He was thanking him for the food, telling him we used to come here a long time ago. The waiter beamed at us, and I was more convinced than ever that it was the same one who used to serve us. I was glad of the distraction. I couldn’t decide if I was more excited about finding the old Drew again – my best friend – or meeting this new, more assertive Drew. I felt his foot nudge mine under the table, and I did my best to sip my wine and smile at the waiter as though I wasn�
�t wishing exactly the same thing that Drew had just told me he was wishing.

  Chapter 13

  FREYA

  “THERE’S NOTHING else to tell!” I laughed.

  I was on the phone with Beatrix. She was whispering because Stan, her husband, was asleep upstairs, and she didn’t want to wake him. It was almost two and I should have been in bed, but Drew had mentioned in passing that he was seeing me, and so I had about a dozen messages from her on my phone threatening me with all sorts of vengeance if I didn’t reply to her and let her know how it had gone. I had messaged her and got an instant call back.

  “No, no, no! There’s a big gap. Lovely dinner, yadda, walked back through the park… then nothing. It’s two in the morning!”

  “Okay, he came back for a coffee,” I added, bracing myself for the inevitable barrage of questions.

  “Oh. My. God. I knew there was more to it,” she practically squealed.

  “You’re going to wake Stan!” I warned, laughing. “And anyway, he isn’t here now, so you’ll have to project your fantasies on someone else!”

  “Tell me everything,” she whispered.

  “We sat on the couch and talked about old times. It was… nice,” I conceded.

  “And that’s all?” she sounded disappointed.

  “That’s all. Pretty much,” I couldn’t keep the smile out of my voice as I hung up and pictured her frustration at not getting the juicy details.

  It wasn’t really all. Sure, we had sat on the couch and talked about old times, things we did and places we went, people we used to know, and where they were now. I had been teasing him about the car he used to drive, a tiny beat-up old thing that we would have to pull over to manually clear the windows because the wipers didn’t work. I was laughing at the memory when he had suddenly moved forward and kissed me, his hands cupping my face, his fingertips sliding into my hair. I froze. This was Drew. Until recently, he had been my co-worker. This was a new Drew, and I found myself wondering where he learned his moves. I pulled back and bit my lip. He smiled and said he should be going.