Are you ready for another excerpt? It won't go live on Amazon until the book is fully available, but I thought y'all might like a sneak peak. Enjoy! Don't forget to pre-order your copy at
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“Stephanie, this is Chaz
Winters; Chaz, Stephanie Ballard.” To Chaz, she added an explanation that this
was her very best friend in the whole wide world with a mischievous giggle. And
with those introductions, Karen settled onto her high-back stool to observe the
two people who’d agreed to this blind date. She watched them shake hands and tried
not to smile at the tiny lift of her girlfriend’s left eyebrow. Instant
attraction; she could sense it. Was Stephanie also feeling it? Of course, she
must be—Karen was almost never wrong about matchmaking.
She turned her attention to the
man who’d just entered the bar and was approaching them—her fiancé. Victor
always looked sexy in his suit and loosened tie, even at the end of the day
when he’d been raking his fingers through his hair and his eyes were a little
dulled by fatigue.
“Sorry for being late.” He
shook Chaz’s hand and gave Stephanie a quick hug. Then, he planted a lingering
kiss on his future bride’s forehead and wrapped a possessive arm around her
shoulders as he slid onto the bar stool beside hers. “How are you feeling?” His
free hand rested on the lightweight lavender dress stretched over a very round
belly.
“Greater than great,” she
beamed. “It’s been an uneventful day.” In other words, she’d had none of the
fatigue or nausea that seemed to have resurfaced even though the pregnancy was
almost over. At the moment, Karen wasn’t too worried about her symptoms. In
fact, her only concern was whether her best friend was going to enjoy her time
with the tall, dark, and handsome owner of the pool hall. Of course, she would.
Having arrived nearly fifteen
minutes earlier, she and Stephanie were munching on chips and had already
ordered their drinks: Sprite with a twist of lime and a garnish of fresh mint
for the baby incubator and a Mexican mojito with extra mint for the single
woman. The drinks looked so similar that Karen made a mental note to pay
attention to which glass she grabbed.
The two men ordered tequila
shots and the bartender quickly set them down so he could tend to the other
patrons. As was typical for a Friday night, the bar was crowded and the
restaurant was filling up. The piped-in music could barely be heard over the
mixture of conversations, laughter, ice clinking into tall glasses, and food
sizzling as servers brought out dinner orders.
Chaz, dressed in a lightweight
sweater and perfectly fitted slacks, leaned slightly toward Stephanie and asked
where she worked, how well she liked her job, etc.—usual first date stuff. Work
was always a safe ice-breaker topic.
“Earlier, Steph was telling me
about her latest project,” Karen encouraged her friend.
“There isn’t much to tell,”
Stephanie insisted as she tucked a curl behind her ear. She shook her head and
it immediately popped back out. “Just another boring set of calculations for a
development company. I honestly don’t understand why Mr. Kinsett wants to
expand the business when he and his wife are almost ready to retire.”
“Does he know they’re going to
retire?” Karen winked.
Stephanie sent a warning glance
to the other woman before saying, “I would hope so. They’re almost eighty years
old. It doesn’t take a mind-reader to know they shouldn’t be investing such a
large amount of capital right now.” She took a quick sip of her drink before
continuing. “Mrs. Kinsett is having some sort of medical problem. And, it doesn’t
seem like any of their relatives are interested in running the business, so there’s
not a clear reason why they want to go ahead with this project.” She shrugged
and turned her attention to Chaz. “I’m sure you have much more interesting days
at the pool hall.”
Chaz easily talked about how he
could relate to Mr. Kinsett’s situation. He’d taken over the pool hall on the
eastside of Erie from an uncle nearly a year ago and was trying to make it more
profitable rather than be forced to sell it to someone other than family. While
running the business was more work than fun, he honestly enjoyed being around the
variety of people. His smile was as easy as the way he talked about his
business.
“I usually get there around dinner
time,” he explained, “just as the after-work young professionals are winding
down the happy hour and a more settled clientele is arriving. There are mostly
groups challenging each other to a few friendly games and the couples, like
Karen and Victor, who just want to spend time with their special person.” He
shrugged. “It’s my job to notice what’s going on and to walk around and make
sure everyone is happy but not rowdy.”
Karen nodded absently as the
conversation drifted to other topics. She had closely observed him keeping
watch over the establishment. There was a strong calmness to him that she’d
noticed not long after he’d first starting managing the pool hall. He talked
with everyone, laughed easily, and didn’t seem to miss anything. So, over a few
months, Karen and Victor kept watching how he interacted with the female
patrons and were relieved to see that he didn’t seem to take any of them
seriously. They flirted unashamedly, but he was always professional in his
response. She thought about how it didn’t matter what day the couple showed up
with other friends, Chaz was there and his personality was always the same—friendly,
steady, dependable. He could be perfect for Stephanie, and she for him. Too bad
that she didn’t like billiards or they could have met a long time ago.
Karen laughed quietly at her
mental observations and joined the conversation about football. Stephanie knew
what she was talking about and was passionate about the Pittsburgh Steelers. Chaz
was noticeably impressed; his fascination was evident in the way he never
stopped smiling and rarely looked away from his date. Everyone was having a
good time.
“I definitely have to thank
you,” Chaz said to Karen. Then, to his date, he sent a warm smile and made a
comment that she was pretty amazing, a remark that made her blush. Victor and
Karen immediately chimed in that they couldn’t agree more and that their friend
was definitely special and one of a kind.
“Can we please change the
subject?” The blush deepened as everyone chuckled at her discomfort.
“Maybe we should get a table
and order dinner,” was Chaz’s suggestion. It was a good sign for a blind date. He
could have very easily used the pool hall as an excuse to end the night early.
“Yes! I’m definitely ready to
order some real food,” Karen eagerly agreed. “But first, I need to make a pit
stop.” She waddled off to the restroom and her fiancé went to find a hostess to
ask about moving them to a booth.
Everything was going well, Stephanie
thought, and she could definitely see herself enjoying a little more of his
broad smile and inquisitive eyes. Blind dates were usually unpredictable, so
she was relieved that he wanted to spend a little more time with them. With
her, she corrected silently. Yeah, the interest was definitely mutual.
“You’ve gotten quiet on me,” he
said so softly that she had to lean a bit closer to hear him. A hand lightly
touched hers and his eyes smiled.
“Just wondering about you,” was
Stephanie’s reply.
“Questions you didn’t want to
ask in front of your friends?” He chuckled. “Ask away.”
“Okay.” She looked him in the
eyes and studied every nuance of his reaction as she said, “According to Karen,
you haven’t been interested in anyone you’ve met over these past months, so why
are you here tonight?”
“Because I saw you with Karen
once and was curious as to whether you were the same person she wanted me to
meet.” He pushed aside his now watery second drink. “You were shopping for
shoes, I think. Anyway, the two of you were totally caught up in having a good
time and you were smiling, relaxed, carefree. Beautiful. I remember wondering whether
you’re always that way.”
“Not always,” came out with a
lighthearted laugh. “It’s just easy to be happy around Karen. She’s has a way
of brightening anybody’s mood. Plus, she’s a good friend; we know a lot about
each other.”
“Such as her knowing what kind
of man you like.” It was a comment, not a question.
“Yeah, that too.” Stephanie got
a good vibe about Chaz. His eyes held hers as she tipped her head sideways in a
gesture of continued curiosity. What was it about him that was so captivating? Déjà
vu hit at that moment: she couldn’t remember having a dream of the specific scene,
but then it unfolded in her mind a split second ahead of when it was actually
happening. His same arm movement and shift of body. Her same fiddling with the
empty drink glass on the bar.
“What’s your next question?”
Chaz was asking.
“Oh . . .” She had to bring her
attention back to the conversation. “I was going to ask whether you believe in
fate, destiny, serendipity—whatever you want to call it.”
“Definitely.”
“So, some things are just meant
to happen?” She watched him nod. “And do you believe some people are more open than
others to following the vibes they sense from a person?”
He seemed to think about that
for a moment. His eyes said he already had an answer but wasn’t sure whether to
tell her; Stephanie could sense that a mild suspicion of her reason for asking
was his strongest reason for hesitating.
“Do you believe it?” was his
non-answer.
“Definitely,” was her confident
reply.
He nodded again as he honestly
considered what she’d said. Something comfortable and magical passed between
them in that instant. Stephanie saw a slight warmth creep into his eyes and could
only return the expression.
“Okay, our booth is ready,”
Victor was saying as he rejoined them. His voice broke the spell.
He reached for Karen, who was
just returning, and the foursome moved away from the noisy bar to the other
side of the restaurant where mostly families were situated. Chaz’s hand rested
casually on Stephanie’s back as they wove through the tables, and his arm was
comfortably touching hers after they were seated. Stephanie was sure that she
wasn’t imagining the electricity between them.
Karen kept everyone laughing as
they looked over the menus and tried to determine what to order. She wanted one
of everything and each option was more tempting than the previous one. Then she
pouted that she probably wouldn’t be able to eat a full meal with the baby
taking up so much room inside of her and settled on a dish that would be good
reheated.
As they waited for the food to
arrive, the talk shifted to current events in the news and somehow drifted into
two separate conversations that were somewhat related enough for people to
bounce between them. Yet, neither Karen nor Victor interrupted any moments when
the conversation was soft words spoken just between Stephanie and Chaz.
“He’s definitely fascinated,”
the pregnant woman told her friend when the two women took a restroom break.
“Yeah?” Stephanie dabbed on
fresh lipstick and smiled at her friend in the mirror that took up the entire
wall behind the row of sinks. “So am I.”
“Any special insights?” Karen
gave a conspiratorial wink at the other woman’s reflection.
“Nothing specific; just a good
vibe. He’s a good person.”
“Hell, I figured that out
before I ever suggested the two of you get together.” She laughed. “But
seriously, you didn’t pick up anything other than happy waves?” Hands absently
rubbed her too-full belly.
“Not really.” Stephanie wasn’t
ready to mention the déjà vu moment. She simply frowned at her friend and
shoved the tube of lipstick back into her purse. “There’s something I can’t
nail down that’s making me feel really connected.”
“Sleep on it,” Karen urged. “It’ll
come to you.” She laughed and waddled toward the door.
Yeah, sleep on it. Strange
things came into Stephanie’s dreams. Things that sometimes hinted at
information she couldn’t know otherwise. Things that often came true. Things
that had made other people say she was weird before she’d learned not to trust
everyone with that detail about herself. Anyway, her gift had never been
anything to fear; and she preferred to think of herself as one-of-a-kind.
Yes, she was as unique as the
man waiting for her in the dining room.
Except he wasn’t waiting.
“Sorry, Steph,” Victor apologized.
“Chaz got a call and said he had to leave. But he wanted me to tell you that he
enjoyed the evening.”
“Did he ask for her phone
number?” Karen wanted to know as she slid back into the booth. Her fiancé could
only shrug. “That’s okay,” the woman assured her friend. “It was probably work.
We’ll see him over the next couple of weeks and find out what happened.”
It didn’t matter to Stephanie. That
déjà vu moment said a lot: something about their meeting was meant to happen,
and she trusted her instincts. Always.
She’d see him again.
Chaz wasn’t as confident about
whether he would see her. In fact, as he drove to the pool hall, he considered
that the date, no matter how innocent, might have been a mistake. Stephanie
seemed to see right into him and had a way of looking at him as though no one
else was around when they were talking. He was too attracted to her, and his
life didn’t need complications.
He parked his car in a
designated space behind the building, turned off the engine, and retrieved his
gun from the glove box. He shoved it into a pocket. Checking his surroundings
carefully before getting out of the car, he reminded himself that his business
was not one where he could afford to be distracted by Stephanie’s loveliness. He
pressed a button placed inconspicuously against the side of the door frame before
unlocking the rear entrance and stepping inside. The key would have set off a
silent alarm otherwise.
Down a rear set of stairs behind
another locked door was a private area, supposedly for employees only, but the
real break room was above the pool hall, not below. Consistent with its apparent
purpose, a 250-lb, muscular bouncer appeared to lounge at the opposite end of
the space and was flipping through the pages of that morning’s newspaper. However,
he was neither taking a break nor reading the paper; and only the fact that
Chaz had pushed a second hidden button made him set aside his gun that was,
like Chaz’s, loaded and ready to fire. At his end of the room, concealed by a
row of lockers, was another doorway. The two men exchanged lighthearted
greetings before the bouncer aimed what looked like a TV remote at the door and
punched a series of numbers. It swung open—no handle, no peepholes, no windows.
All these precautions were for a very good reason.
Chaz stepped into the private gambling
club. He was immediately greeted with a nod from the bartender at the end of
the room who was setting a couple of beer bottles on a tray for the lone
waitress to carry to a table. Modest though it may be, two poker games were
underway across the room and a couple of patrons were seated at one of the
blackjack tables, another six at a roulette wheel, and a few more at the cash
bar. While there was a legal casino in downtown Erie, slightly higher payoffs
and a more discreet environment assured the return of long-time customers who
didn’t want their vices to be publicly known.
A floor-to-ceiling two-way
mirror lined a large section of one wall. The pool hall’s owner spoke warmly to
all of his gambling regulars as he made his way to the bank of glass that slid
open just as he reached it. Chaz entered, pushed the door closed with a soft
click, walked over to the desk along one edge of the small room, and lifted a
stack of papers.
“It’s early,” Morgan announced
as Chaz was making a quick calculation of the earnings based on the paper logs
for that evening. “But it’s Friday. The room will be full in another hour.”
“If everything is on schedule,
why did you call me?”
“Because Rick Benton called.” He
watched Chaz perch on the edge of the desk and studied his reaction. There was
barely any. “Someone important has been asking questions about what’s going on
beneath the billiards tables.”
“Really?” Chaz rubbed his chin
with interest. Rumors had been floating for months that Evan Mosley, a well-known
local criminal, was looking for a way to expand his own gambling dens. He was
apparently planning to absorb businesses that were already established and with
a predictable clientele—but, most importantly, those businesses needed to be
well-camouflaged and secure. In exchange for absorption, he was offering to
provide additional security and back all bets with his own money. The current
operator would only need to worry about keeping the dealers happy and splitting
the profits.
Yes, Chaz was interested. For a
variety of reasons.
“The guy in the gold tie at the
blackjack table is his representative,” Morgan continued and nodded to the view
through the glass. Chaz was already watching the room.
Gold Tie looked calm, but Chaz
suspected otherwise. He was in unfamiliar territory, bringing a message that
might not be well received, and with back-up that was probably in the pool hall
since they wouldn’t have been admitted underground. The previous operator of
the establishment had set into place an elaborate referral process that assured
all patrons that the environment would remain selective as well as discreet and
safe. Newcomers were never allowed to bring in unscreened guests.
Morgan went on to explain that
Gold Tie had made inquiries at the upstairs bar for only a few minutes before
asking to speak with Rick Benton, who in turn had called Morgan. Chaz trusted that
Rick had done his job of checking the man’s references.
“Thanks,” was mumbled as Chaz
pressed a button to let himself reenter the gaming area.
He walked to the bar in the far
corner and had the tender pour bourbon on the rocks: it might be a long night. Then,
he settled at the blackjack table and began what he knew would be the
preliminary round of negotiations for a peaceful takeover of his illegal
activities. The larger question, which he knew wouldn’t be addressed tonight,
was whether Evan Moseley planned to take over the pool hall, too. Or, would he
demand that Chaz run it as the legitimate face of what was hidden from all but
a few well-known patrons? A package deal would be nice.
What he’d said earlier about
not wanting the business to get sold outside of the family was a lie. His plan
was to make a clean break from everything. He sipped his drink and wondered how
to make Moseley’s representative think he was only cautiously interested in his
boss’s offer.
