Off Her Game (5 page)

Even from the corner of his eye, he saw the tight ponytail with loose strands framing her face. Her dark eyes surveyed the woman. He couldn't read her thoughts, but from grimace on her face, something ate at her.

It was the way she meticulously wiped off his table in slow circles. She always wiped it in the same way too—twice counter-clockwise, and twice clockwise--which amused Darren. And the way her cheeks flushed when he called her on it.

“How do you figure?” Valerie frowned at the woman, and then leaned forward on the table, her towel clenched in her fingers. Her arms pressed her breasts together in the low-cleavage shirt. He bet she had amazing tits. God, he wanted to find out.

“Look, she snubs everyone that comes near her,” Darren said. “She's turned away three different guys tonight, alone. Now is that the behavior of a woman who wants to see other people?” When he turned to meet her eyes, she looked away from him. Had he maybe made her mad somehow?

Valerie shook her head. His spine tingled as she turned and her attention shifted to him. “I don't think she hates people. If she did, she wouldn't be here. This place is like... a jamboree of people.”

“Jamboree?” Jamboree wouldn't have been the word he'd have used. A snicker escaped him before he managed to bring it under control.

“Shut up. You know what I mean. People come here because they want to be around other people.”

“Yeah,” Darren agreed. “But I hate people, and I'm here.”

“You don't hate anyone. You like to think you do. But you don't.” She straightened up when he pressed his lips together in doubt. “What? You're the world's expert on people? I not only bartend for a living, but at one time, I worked with hormonally-insane teenage girls all day. Having people skills is sort of important. Know what I think?”

“What?” Darren sat back.

“I think she's picky. That she likes people, but hasn't found the right sort. She's still looking for the right person. Maybe she’s been burned, and she’s angry and hasn’t come to terms with it yet.”

Darren considered that. Jen had broken up with Misha fairly recently. Maybe she had some anger herself. Misha wasn’t an easy guy. He was temperamental, and young, and immature. The fact that Jen, in her thirties, had gone for twenty-two year old Misha was strange.

“How is the day job hunting going?” He asked her, changing the subject. It didn't seem right to talk about other women with Val, especially women who dated his teammates.

She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “Uh... it's not.”

She gave him a soft half-smile, but her lips were tense and she couldn't quite pull off the nonchalant look she was going for. She loved helping others get their lives together and now she needed that help herself. Her struggle made his chest ache.

“So, how are things?”

The answer seemed to be caught in her throat, or she was deliberating trying to keep it caged within her. He started to reach for her.

“Valerie...”

“Difficult.” She admitted, cutting off what he'd started to say as she pulled back from the table. The deliberate move to keep him away turned his stomach in knots. He wanted to take her in his arms, tell her everything would be okay. That seemed to be the last thing she wanted from him.

“Are you... I mean, do you need—”

“I'm fine.” The snap of her voice was like ice cutting the air.

He didn't say anything. The force of her answer surprised him.

Her face fell, the steel he'd just seen collapsed under the weight of her grief. “I’m not taking money from you. But I can't afford my own apartment right now. I'll probably move to my parents' house in Dallas in another month if nothing comes up.”

“You'd move? Dallas is hours from here.” There was a whiny quality to his voice he hoped she didn't hear. It wasn't very manly of him.

“I can't survive on a waitress's hourly wage or the tips I make here,” she told him.

Disbelief and disappointment streamed through his body. In her position, he doubted that he'd be anywhere as calm. But then again, he'd grown up differently. His father had been a professional hockey player. Darren had been on the ice as soon as he could walk. She turned toward him like she wanted to say something, but an uproar in the corner cut her off. Her long ponytail flipped around. The back table had a party going, guys in similar colored shirts jumping around and swearing at the televisions.

Darren turned his gaze to one screen. Baseball playoffs.

Odd disappointment filled his blood, flushing out the icy anxiety he'd felt when Val said she'd be moving. Every year since his professional life began, he'd been excited for the season to start again. Hockey was his life. It was all he knew. But he liked coming there, both to relax and to see Valerie. She always had a smile on her face. When he didn't get to come in, he missed it. Without her there... it just wouldn't be the same.

Valerie sighed heavily and wiped the table one last time with her towel. “Ugh. I gotta get. Those guys will be power drinking for the next half hour after that home run.” She looked at him. “Will you be here later?”

The only thing that made him happy these days was thinking about how he'd come back and there would be a new hockey season, and Valerie at the bar every Tuesday. His game had been crap last year. Until he'd met her. She was his good luck charm.

That admission scared him. It was too soon after Angela.

“Nah,” he said, “I'm about to jet. Early wake up in the morning for practice.”

“Next week?” She asked.

He shook his head. “Road trip next week. Might be a couple weeks before I get back.”

He wished he could read women better. Was that disappointment on her face?

“Alright. I'll see ya later then.” She left, her hips swaying as she approached the table with the guys. Jealousy surprised him, stabbing through his chest straight to his heart, crippling him as she took their drink orders.

Valerie spoke easily with everyone. It was something Darren envied in her. Also, he hated that she had that easy way with everyone. She turned on the charm every moment she worked, and it drove him crazy. Sadly, her easy demeanor was her money maker. He knew that, but it didn't make it any better to watch her flaunt it for the world.

He finished his beer and stood up. He pulled out some cash and set his wallet down to thumb through them. He dropped some of the table to cover his tab and Valerie's tip. In the corner of his eye, he could see Jen getting up too. He thought about going over there for a good long second to talk about Misha, but one glance at Valerie, and all thoughts of other people fled from his mind. It was only Val he wanted. And that realization side-swiped him entirely.

Darren truly had no idea what he did to her. There wasn't a man out there that wore a t-shirt better than he did. His shoulders were a snug fit inside the fabric. She imagined his muscles were hard as a rock, too. And his crooked smile created fantasies in her head that were just simply sinful.

His stare turned to her, so intense her body felt like flames licked at her skin. The weighty focus burned through her body like a supernova, leaving her knees weak and wobbly. She turned away from him, trying to concentrate on her work, but she could feel him boring his way through her back. It made her chest flutter as she delivered shots to her table. After that, it took her only a moment to pull the other waitress aside to watch her tables while she stepped outside. Darren didn't know it but he'd burrowed his way under her skin and stuck there like a burr.

She blew out a breath.

He was just a guy. Nothing special. Attractive, yes. She especially liked the way his smile was just a little bit crooked, the left corner of his mouth slightly higher than the right. It still made her laugh to think about the night he'd come in with a missing tooth. It messed up the symmetry of his face, but it still seemed to complement him, and his crooked smile.

She was only out there a minute and a half when Nick appeared in the doorway, interrupting the first calm she'd had all night. She liked being busy most nights, but sometimes, she just needed a break.

“Hey, Val?”

She looked up just as he tossed a black leather wallet at her. She caught it with one hand and cocked an eyebrow. “What's this?”

Nick shrugged. “It was left at one of your tables. I gotta get back.”

He left and Valerie stared at the wallet. The outside was black and textured. There was a money clip in the center but no cash. The right side had several credit cards, but it was the driver's license on the left that caught her eye, making her heart skip a beat. She ran her fingers over the face as she read the name. “Darren Moran.”

Valerie knew the address on the license. It was a housing subdivision off in Westerly Falls. A pretty expensive one, too, on the richer side of town.

Curiosity swept over her. What would his house be like? She knew he'd recently renovated after his divorce. He'd talked about it weeks ago, had already hired the contractors. He'd called it “Purging the Bitch” from his life.

Rifling around through his stuff seemed like a shitty thing to do, so she resisted the urge. She just needed the address to send it to him.

“Val?” One of the other waitresses stuck her head out. “You got a phone call.”

Val frowned and took the handheld from the other woman. “Thanks, Tiff.” Into the phone, she said, “Hello?”

“Hey, Val?”

“Yes?” The male voice on the other end didn’t sound familiar at all. Wait, no. It was familiar, and it made her stomach flip eight different ways.

“It's Darren.”

Duh. Like she wouldn’t know.

“Hey, did I leave my wallet at the table, by chance? I was looking for it, but I can’t seem to find it. That’s the last place I remember.”

She put her hand in her apron pocket. She stroked the texture of the wallet without pulling it out. “Yeah, it’s here. I was going to put it in the safe for the night.”

“Oh, I kinda need it tomorrow.” He paused. “I don’t suppose… Could you bring it by the hotel tonight?

His hotel? Val’s heart thumped against her sternum, fireworks exploding through her nervous system. Normally, she didn’t go anywhere a customer would ask, but Darren was different, wasn’t he? They’d shared things she’d never have shared with another customer, like that kiss.

“I shouldn’t.” Her voice came out evenly, but her mouth was numb, like someone else was saying the same words.

“Oh. Well, I was hoping…” Darren trailed off, but disappointment laced the awkward silence.

Val sighed. “Is it far?”

She had some gas in her car, but it had to last her until next week. All her tips were earmarked for rent this week.

“Nah,” he said. “It's five minutes. But I can pay you for gas.”

She hesitated, losing her voice for a panicky moment.

“Val?”

“I'll drop it off at the front desk tonight.” As if she would do anything else.

“Actually, I'd rather you bring it up to me directly. Is that cool? The hotel staff is nice, but I’m kinda paranoid.”

Val paused. Darren's hotel room? He probably stayed in one of those ritzy places. But she wasn't going in. She was just dropping his wallet. It was no big deal. Except that it was.

Tell him no. Tell him you can’t do that.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Idiot
.

“Oh, you are awesome, Val. I can't get on the plane on Thursday if I don't have my wallet. Thank you! You are amazing.”

He gave her the hotel information, including his room number, and they said their goodbyes. Val pulled the wallet out and stared at it feeling like it might grow teeth and bite her if she held on to it for too long.

She slipped the wallet into her apron pocket and went back to work.

***

Valerie stood outside the large hotel, her courage vanishing. She knew the hotel was ritzy, but she hadn't expected anything quite like this. This hotel probably had food dishes that cost more than her weekly paycheck. The outside was smooth white cement, tinged tan by age. The glass doors glinted in the night lights, reflecting the neon signs around the building.

The fear collected into a solid lump in her throat, choking her. Her lips still tingled with the memory of Darren’s kiss all those weeks ago. She closed her eyes, remembered the feel of his lips against hers, all warmth and strength.

She opened her eyes and stared at the building.

She steeled her resolve and stepped up the front entrance to the lobby. She almost turned around when she saw the incredible chandelier hanging in the lobby. She felt the size of an ant in this place.

Her boots thumped loudly on the marble floor. Though no one paid her any attention, all eyes were on her, judging and wondering why someone like her was there. Not that she normally cared, but it was different tonight. In her work boots and tattered jeans, she felt a little bit like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when she was doing the morning walk of shame.

Except she didn’t have great sex the night before.

What seemed like years later, she reached the elevator. She pushed the button for the suite floor and leaned against the oak wood paneling of the elevator walls, careful not to leave prints on the spotless mirrors.

The elevator dinged. The hallway was carpeted, quieter than a library. She swore her boots echoed louder than thunder. She stopped before 2405, which was the number Darren had told her.

Her heart rate spiked. Panic filled her blood with ice, giving her goose bumps. Her skin flushed with heat, making an odd sensation like when someone put Ben-Gay on a pulled muscle.

The door opened a crack, and Valerie relaxed as she saw Darren's familiar eyes. “Valerie? Hey.”

He opened the door more, giving her a view of his broad, muscled shoulders and sculpted chest.

“Uh...”

Breathe
.

Icy panic poofed in the presence of another sensation of heat, her attraction stealing the air from her lungs. Darren’s sweatpants hung low on his hips. His torso looked like it had been chiseled out of marble.

This was such a mistake.

“What's wrong?” His inquisitive tone snapped her from her thoughts.