Chapter One: I’ll Take The First Shot
Chalk
Playing pool was more than a pastime for me. It was written into the very fabric of who I was. The stick became a real life extension of my arm when I played. I loved the hustle. The thrill. The loser’s face when they knew they had to cough up $1,000 and put it on the table. When they realized I could pocket shots with my eyes closed.
I even brought my own chalk to my games. Nobody I played against used pink chalk. I had it made special-order. One of the features that set me apart from other players.
Running the pool competition at Wheelz gave me a little breather from daddy duties. It provided the stress relief I needed to stay sane.
I was looking down the barrel at the top pocket on the right hand side, locked into the final game for our Wednesday night pool comp. I was leading by a couple of shots, and Harper – Bones’ wife – made announcements to the crowd as the game moved on.
I flattened myself against the table as the crowd watched. I steadied my breathing and lined up the ball I wanted to ricochet to the next ball. I was on bigs, and the purple ball was blocking the pocket. I drew back my pool stick, letting it slide through my hands only to spring forward and hit my orange ball, shoving the purple smalls out of the way as it ricocheted perfectly into the pocket.
I lifted my head with a cocky grin to the blonde bombshell trying to give me a run for my mula. I only had the black ball to contend with, and the game was mine. Standing up straight, I arched my back, then grazed her thigh with my pool cue. “Ready to lose, Angie?” I whispered as I walked past, trying to throw her off her game.
She ran her tongue over her straight white teeth, scoffing. “The game’s not done yet. Anyone’s game.”
We both knew the game was mine. I knew. She knew.
Heat ran through my fingers in concentration. I dropped down low. Winked at Angie then back to the table. Had to put on a show. The black ball was tucked behind one of her balls. All I wanted was to knock it out of the way and open the pocket up. I stepped back and wrapped my fingers around my beer.
Harper sneaked up beside me and whispered in my ear, “Well played. You can’t let a girl beat you. Are you fudging this game a little bit?”
I chuckled as I side-eyed Harper. “No, Harper I am not fudging the game. Angie can play. She’s pretty good at this game. I’m actually stoked to be playing against a worthy opponent.”
Angie Carmichael was the hot investigative journalist working to bring the Rebels’ name back into a good standing. We had some heat on us in light of her recent two-page spread in the local paper. She wrote a hellish article about the dark underbelly of Red Stone Casino. If we weren’t involved as a club, I would have been rightfully impressed. We could have been unresponsive, but it would have dragged our name through the mud in the Holbeck community’s eyes.
I ran through a quick flashback to our last meeting.
Bones had confirmed we were on track to purchase Red Stone. We are close to buying the casino, Numbers is telling me we are about six months away if we keep on track. Chalk, having that pool comp was a genius idea. It’s got people coming through the doors. Keep working on Angie; we need her.”
“No problem, I can handle that.” My cocky wink let him know I was more than happy to accommodate the request.
Bear ribbed me with his big throaty laugh. “Yeah, I bet you can handle it.”
I refocused on Angie as she ticked her head to the side in agitation at my last shot. Men around the table ogled her. Her ass was facing them and they were getting a nice eyeful. Hell, I liked watching her walk around the table too. Judging, assessing how she was going to beat me. Those pretty lashes batting over the emerald lakes of her eyes. Her hair was more on the golden side than mine. I wondered if her looks were how she got all her exclusives – men probably just looked into her alluring eyes and blurted out all their secrets.
Angie had two balls left on the table, she was weighing up her options as her lightweight boots clacked over the tiles. She had a clear run to the purple ball.
Leaning back, I knew from her stance that she would only be able to hit the ball from the left side at the wrong angle. My suspicions were proven right as the ball ran away from the hole sitting to the right of it. “Better luck next time,” I teased, stealing one last sip of my beer.
“Better luck next time? We haven’t even finished the game, what are you talking about?” she retorted.
“Oh, yes, we have. It’s over with. You put up a good fight, though. You still win second prize and that’s pretty damn good,” I boasted. I knew second was a mere consolation prize to someone so competitive.
Angie twiddled the stick in her hand, rolling her eyes softly.
Pink dust particles flew from the top of my pool cue as I ran my chalk over the top of it a few times. I set my stick to work and pulled back my pool cue, focusing on the black ball. The shiny porcelain ball was waiting right there for me near the hole. Not too much leverage was required, just a clear shot. I smacked the ball right into the pocket for the win and raised my arms up.
The crowd cheered and laughed as Harper called out over the loudspeaker, “Great job, Angie! Chalk is a hard man to beat. Don’t feel bad. To all our players tonight, thanks for coming down to Wheelz! We hope you all had a fab time. We hope to see you next time for the next round.”
Angie pretended to be devastated, still holding her pool cue in place, but she lifted her head and smiled.
I extended my hand to her for a shake.
She slipped her manicured one into it. “You win, this time,” she admitted.
“Uh-huh,” I said lightly.