Winner Takes All Read online

  “Well…it’s been…”

  “Real? Fun? Unexpected? Weird?”

  She laughed quietly. “Yes to all of the above, I think.”

  “Yeah, me too.” He fell into step next to her as they slowly left the room and started toward the front of the building. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you when you called my name. I couldn’t believe it was you making the announcements. To be honest, I wanted to grab you right then and there and plant one…but I thought better of it.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her gaze horrified by the possibility.

  “So I did the next thing I could get away with.” He suddenly stopped to stare down at Jean. “Did you know it was me?”

  “Almost right away,” Jean confessed. “But I wasn’t expecting you to hold my hand. Kiss it.”

  He frowned, considering. “No, you’re right. I overplayed my advantage.”

  “I…am…surprised to see you,” she said carefully.

  He grinned. “I’ll take that.” He straightened. “Are you done for the day? Headed home? To a date?”

  Jean raised her brows. She knew he was fishing, but she did seem pleased by his curiosity. She neither confirmed nor denied it.

  “I was recruited at the eleventh hour to host the announcement today. I think I’m still on call until…”

  “Great!” Patrick said with sudden enthusiasm. “Some of my friends are throwing an after-party. Someplace called Filmore’s.”

  “It’s a bistro across the street from city hall.”

  “Come join us.”

  Jean shook her head. “Sounds like a private party.”

  “For me. I think I can invite who I want. I’d like you to be there. We could catch up. You can’t say no.”

  Jean seemed to consider what she should do. “I need to go back to my office, check for any important messages.”

  “Does that mean yes?”

  Jean smiled at his persistence. “It means maybe.”

  “And if you can’t?”

  “It was nice seeing you again, Trick.”

  The name no longer sounded right. It certainly no longer fit. “It’s Patrick now. Only you and a few hundred former high school classmates have ever heard anyone call me Trick.”

  “Cute in school, not so much now?”

  “You got it.”

  “Sorry I reminded you.”

  “Not at all. I liked it in high school. Made me stand out. I find I do much better in life when I act like an adult.”

  Jean laughed outright.

  Behind them, a maintenance worker hurried to catch up, carrying a large sheet of cardboard. He gave it to Jean. It was the giant check made out to Patrick with the amount of his winnings. She then turned to him.

  “This is yours. Don’t you want it?”

  He was actually embarrassed. “It was a great gesture but…I don’t know what I’d do with it.”

  “Then I’m going to leave it in my office. My boss can figure out what to do with it on Monday. You should go. Your friends are probably wondering what happened to you.”

  “Will you come over when you’re done?”

  “Maybe I’ll surprise you. Don’t you like surprises?”

  He shook his head. “Not really.”

  “Then, you’ll have to wait and see,” Jean said quietly with a parting smile.

  * * *

  Jean still felt a bit awkward with the idea of being in a social setting with Patrick. They’d never socialized in high school. And now her official city hall duties had drifted into something else. She crossed the street to Filmore’s with that feeling of stepping back in time. Patrick was the last person on earth she would have expected to see that afternoon. Or ever.

  They had not seen each other since high school, and he’d been two years ahead of her. He had been a standout back then. Memorable. He didn’t have to work at it, or even accept it as his due, in her experience. But the benefits had always been great, and he seemed to enjoy every one of them. Patrick was always in the center of a wide circle of friends. Girls predictably trailed after him for his attention. Yes, Jean remembered ruefully, there were always a lot of girls. That his path had ever crossed with hers at all now seemed unbelievable, pure happenstance. But Trick—Patrick—had been the only white boy in school who hadn’t treated her like she was a curiosity, who didn’t ask dumb questions like “What are you? Where are you from?”

  By the time Jean finally left city hall, she was experiencing equal degrees of excitement and apprehension about the party. Filmore’s was one of the local haunts frequented for lunch, birthday celebrations, rendezvous, small group meetings, and after-work drinks to chill. When she entered, the place was busy with the after-work crowd. She continued to the back room. It was a fairly small space, boisterous and lively with some twenty men and women in laughter-filled talk. Jean spotted Patrick, in the center of it all, holding court with a half-finished beer in hand.

  * * *

  Patrick saw Jean enter right away.

  He’d been watching for her. But, in fact, he hadn’t expected Jean to accept his invitation to come to the party being held for him. Here she was, and he felt a crazy sense of relief. He politely excused himself from several men and women who were rehashing their shock about his lottery payout. He started toward Jean, trying to interpret her calm demeanor and the wide-eyed regard with which she watched his approach. A tiny uncertainty mixed with…what?

  He’d only gone a few feet when he was stopped literally in his tracks. A squealing young woman had brushed past Jean and launched herself against him, locking her arms around his neck.

  He caught her to prevent falling off balance and carefully but firmly peeled the excited woman away. She was no stranger to Patrick, but her action was definitely over the top. They had never been that close. Two other very attractive women, flipping their hair and covertly smoothing down the spandex material of their form-fitting dresses, quickly crowded around him as well. Patrick finished his beer, and someone promptly passed him another. He could see that Jean felt the festive vibe of the gathering, and she grinned at the happy mood of the occasion. But she stood all alone.

  These people liked him. He was comfortable with them. Admired. Unable to get away from them, however, he shrugged and grinned at Jean in apology. He raised his beer bottle in greeting.

  And then he watched as one of his friends, a colleague, ambled over to Jean to introduce himself and chat her up. Jean laughed lightly at something he said and gave him her attention. Patrick arched a brow.

  Damn!

  Was he hitting on her?

  Chapter 2

  “We heard you were doing some sort of press thing today, so we had to come say hello,” one of the young women said to Patrick with a coquettish smile.

  “Are you here alone tonight?” another woman asked him with obvious intent.

  He took a good swallow of his beer, noticing Jean over the raised bottle in conversation with not one but two of his guests. He shook his head. “My mother couldn’t make it,” Patrick said smoothly.

  The three women exchanged confused glances.

  “That’s not really what we meant,” the third said. “I guess we’re surprised no one special came to cheer you on, help you celebrate,” she fished.

  “Then I’m grateful that you three are here.”

  In unison, the three young women giggled. The first reached out and lightly brushed her slender fingers across the back of Patrick’s hand, tilting her gaze to his. “My pleasure,” she murmured.

  With practiced ease, Patrick was engaging and responsive, without promising anything or showing interest in choosing among them. Finally realizing that they were going to be unsuccessful in their game plan, the women drifted away to eventually be replaced with a new round-robin of beauties vying for his attention.

  And there was Je
an Travis, her laughter quietly carrying across the room. Patrick thought she was probably having a better time than he was. He recalled that Jean was less social, more cautious and quiet in high school. Especially around people she didn’t know. Never rude or indifferent, she simply withdrew. She’d never been that way with him. At least, that’s what he remembered.

  She was sipping from a cold glass of something, but he knew instinctively it wasn’t alcoholic. This party was a nice surprise, but he was hoping for a chance to say a proper hello, to have a conversation with her. Maybe she didn’t care to renew or rehash their past relationship. Jean had been a private person back then, but not a loner; she had her own set of friends. But there had been one topic of gossip at the time—about her background, her family. He never knew what was true and what was made up by the rumor mill. He never cared. He’d had a chance to get to know Jean a little bit. Her truth had been enough for him.

  “You lucky dog!”

  Patrick winced as a hand clapped firmly onto his shoulder and a solidly built Black man stood in front of him, blocking his view of Jean, and pumped his hand vigorously.

  “Hey, Pete. Good to see you, man.”

  “Is it too early to hit you up for a loan?” Pete laughed uproariously, his loud outburst drawing attention.

  Patrick grinned good-naturedly at his friend. They’d known each other since their early farm days down in the minors. “I haven’t cashed the check yet. Matter of fact, I haven’t even gotten the check.”

  “I can wait,” Pete responded, laughing again at his own audacity.

  * * *

  “Is there a reason why you’re not circulating?”

  Jean turned to a handsome Black man smiling down at her. He towered over not just her, but the two men she’d been speaking with. The new arrival held out a glass of wine. She hesitated but accepted it with a careful smile. The other two men drifted away.

  “I’m really working. I was hoping to remain anonymous.”

  The man swiftly looked Jean up and down and took a sip from his own drink. “No chance of that.”

  “All of you here seem to be good friends with Patrick. It’s nice that you’re helping him celebrate his lottery win.”

  “He’s a great guy. How often do you get to hang with a multimillionaire? Brian Abbott.”

  Jean took the offered hand. “Jean Travis.”

  “Are you also a friend?”

  “I’m with the mayor’s office. I handled the announcements of all the lottery winners today.”

  He nodded. “And you’re here for the party? Still on duty or…” He let it trail off.

  “Still on duty.” Jean hesitated before revealing, “Patrick and I went to the same high school.”

  “Interesting,” Brian murmured.

  “Is it? It was pure chance that we met up this afternoon.”

  “You have history. Are you planning to catch up? Talk about old times?”

  Jean chuckled nervously at his innuendo. She put the wineglass down on the table. “I had no idea I’d be invited tonight, or that I’d be expected to attend. I had no idea Patrick was a winner until I called out his name today. It was a big surprise…”

  “I bet,” Brian murmured. He took another swig of his drink, finishing it, and glanced around the room.

  Jean followed his gaze. There was still a lot of drinking going on. Several die-hard women continued to eye Patrick silently, making their presence known, ever hopeful that perhaps he would still select one of them for after the after-party. Patrick finished his beer and put the empty bottle on a nearby table already crowded with discarded glasses. He took a just-opened bottle from a passing waiter.

  “This could be a while,” Brian said, turning back to her. “Can I interest you in a late dinner? We don’t have to stay here.”

  Jean hid her stunned surprise, quickly formulating a response that wouldn’t come across as an insult or a rejection.

  “Who are you, exactly?” she questioned politely.

  “I’m Patrick’s producer at the station.”

  “Station?”

  “Yeah. For his weekend sports wrap-up on ESPN. A local affiliate.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t know. I have no idea what Patrick’s been up to since he graduated.”

  Brian held her gaze, grinning his interest. “Some guys have incredible luck. He wins a shitload of money, and you come back into his life.”

  “I don’t think I understand what you mean.”

  Brian pursed his lips, considering her. “I think Patrick’s been hanging out with the wrong crowd. He could do better. You are definitely a step up or, at least, in the right direction.”

  Jean still didn’t get it, but it didn’t matter. Seeing Patrick that afternoon was a fluke. The evening was out of the blue. Beginning and end of the story.

  Someone called out Brian’s name, and he turned to identify the caller. “I’ll be back,” he said. “You and I have more to talk about.” He walked away with a confident grin.

  “Jean?”

  She did an about-face to find Patrick approaching her. His walk had a natural grace and ease, athleticism. He seemed in control. It wasn’t so much predatory as sexy. And then her wayward thought was distracted. How many beers did he drink? Patrick stopped in front of her. Maybe a tad too close, but with surprising concern.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  He blindly waved a hand. “They’re all good people, some great friends. But if any of these guys…got out of hand…”

  Jean shrugged. “They were being friendly. Nothing more.”

  He chortled quietly. “That’s what you think. I shouldn’t have left you for so long.”

  “I’m fine. I’m actually enjoying myself. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself. I am still working. I think I made that clear a number of times.”

  “Well, that must have helped,” he drawled, amused.

  Unexpectedly, Jean found herself blushing under his regard. She’d never seen this side of Trick even in high school. Focused on her and concerned.

  Patrick suddenly took her arm. He let his hand slide down until he could grab her hand. Automatically Jean wrapped her fingers around his to hold on. He started walking back to center court, where most of the guests were still clustered, gently pulling Jean with him. She went willingly.

  “Stay with me. There are a few folks here I want you to meet.”

  Patrick introduced Jean to a handful of people. To a person, they were clearly curious about her, but friendly and inclusive. At some point, she felt less like she was working and more like she was part of the celebration. Jean could totally sense Patrick next to her, a little watchful. A little protective. She found it thoughtful and kind of sweet. But also bewildering.

  While he was still as attentive as at the start of the party, Jean could see Patrick was becoming exhausted. But as long as anyone seemed interested in chatting, he stuck with it. The trio of giddy girls had given up and left, probably hoping to salvage the rest of the night somewhere else and with someone else.

  Brian was in conversation off to the side but, ever hopeful, he held up a hand as if to signal Give me a minute; I’ll be right there. Jean really hoped not. He was attractive and very masculine, but a little too slick for her tastes.

  It was, incredibly, a little before 1:00 a.m. when Patrick hugged and shook hands with the final guests, and they left. The restaurant was closing for the night, the lights out in the front and tables already reset for the next day’s business. Patrick and Jean were the very last to walk out the door, and then it was locked behind them.

  He turned to her and shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say?”

  Jean smiled slightly. “You were the guest of honor. You played the role very well. Glad it’s over?”

  “Yes, I am,” he murmured,
running his hands through his hair.

  An old habit.

  Jean watched him carefully. He wasn’t drunk. He’d walked a pretty straight line to her before, but his eyes were bloodshot. His speech was careful and measured, although not slurred.

  He suddenly stood still and stared at her, his brow creased. “Did Brian come on to you?”

  Jean chuckled. “What happens if I say yes?”

  “I’ll have to have a few words with him. It could involve a meeting in the parking lot after work,” he said dryly but seriously.

  “Don’t. I saw it coming and warded it off.”

  He slumped in relief. “Good. He’s a terrific guy, but he has a two-track mind. Work and women. Not in that order.”

  She grinned, ignoring his comment and continuing to study him. “How much did you have to drink tonight?”

  “Only beer. Anything else leaves marks.” He grinned at his private joke. “Five. Six. I can make it home. I’m not drunk.”

  “No, I don’t think you are either, but…”

  “But what?”

  “Well, it’s been a long afternoon and evening. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to get behind the wheel of a car.”

  “It was only seven beers.”

  “You said six.”

  “I’ve done it before.”

  “Not on my watch,” Jean said with quiet firmness.

  He raised his brows at her response. “Look, I appreciate the concern, but this isn’t my first rodeo.”

  “Okay, but it’s mine. I’m sort of responsible for you, Trick.”

  He leaned in to her. “Patrick.”

  “Sorry. Look, when my boss texted it was okay to accept your invitation and for me to be here, I understood that I was still working. I had a good time, but this was not a social evening for me.”

  “My party. My rules.”

  “I’ll put you up for the night, and you can drive home in the morning.”

  He silently blinked at her, trying to judge her sincerity. She could see he was momentarily without a response but maybe was considering the offer.