Page 14 of King of Players

By the end of Monday, my team had gotten me a private appointment with Kaira Bradley for Tuesday evening. As per my request, the meeting was to be held at her house, away from the stuffy, judgmental foundation team and their prying ears.

On Tuesday, I went about my day as usual. After my two-hour workout with my trainer, my hot bath was waiting for me. Aromatic therapy was in place, accompanied by the calming music I enjoyed as my muscles recovered. Following that, I had lunch with some friends, held a couple of meetings, then got ready for Kaira.

As I lounged in the backseat of one of my cars, I contemplated a suitable start for my conversation with the woman who had already surprised me once. Yes, I didn’t expect her to be the first to vote me in. And now that she had, I needed to get to know her better without making it too obvious.

“Hello, Mr. Niles,” her house manager said as she let me in. “Please, follow me. Miss Bradley will be down in a few minutes.”

I followed in the woman’s steps, watching her open a door that had been closed when I was here for the party. It led to a quasi-office, but nothing similar to the study upstairs. Stepping in, I admired the indirect light that dimly yet efficiently lit up every corner. There was another chess set situated between two large armchairs, however, this one didn’t look like an antique; it must have been here for actual use.

The window across took up the entire wall, overlooking the pool garden, a backdrop to an Andalusian-style chaise lounge. On second glance, I noticed that everything in the room had an old Moroccan-Spanish air to it. The Arabian rug; the details in the wood; even the copper light fixtures. Sitting down, I heard the woman ask, “Can I offer you a refreshment?”

My eyes immediately went to the classic wine and bar cabinet in the corner. “Uh—No, thanks.”

“Mr. Niles.” My eyes followed Kaira’s voice to the source, standing at the door, smiling. She was wearing a long dress with long, wide sleeves, and had her hair up in a bun. “Thanks, Miriam. I’ll take it from here.”

“Excuse me.” The woman left the room, her air replaced by Kaira’s overpowering presence.

Standing up, I offered my hand. “Thanks for taking the time to see me.”

As she shook my hand, her eyes remained focused on mine. “I didn’t seem to have a choice. Your team made it sound important.”

“It is.” I nodded, watching her walk toward the many bottles in the corner. “I like to achieve a certain amount of candidness with whoever I’m working with.”

“In film, perhaps, that’s important. Drink?”

“Uh—I’ll have a whiskey. On the rocks.” My eyes followed her graceful movements, and the sway of her long, flowing dress. “Tell me this set is being used.”

She turned to glance at the chess set, and a soft chuckle flew out of her lips. Finally, she was amused. “This is where I spend most of my free time. So, yes. It is.”

“Do you win every time?” I took the glass from her hand and noticed that she was drinking the same thing, only adding a twist to hers.

As she chose the chair across from me, she softly shrugged while descending. “That would make it boring, don’t you think?”

“Some people find comfort in the familiar. They go to the same places, order the same food, and never change their drink.”

Her eyes reflected an understanding look, although slightly disappointed if I was accurate in my reading. “You believe I’m one of those people.”

“I barely know you.”

“You’re thinking it, nonetheless.”

“Actually…” Leaning back, I placed one leg over the other. “I was pleasantly surprised when you were the first to vote for me.” She gave me a calculated smile and said nothing. I then took a sip of my drink, furrowing my eyebrows in appreciation as my eyes examined the golden liquid.

“What would you like to discuss this evening, Mr. Niles?” The look in her eyes was a no-bullshit, get-to-the-point sort of stare.

“Well, since we’re being candid… I have the feeling that I get under your skin somehow. And even though you welcomed my initiative, the very air around you tells me that you want me out of here as quickly as possible.”

A brief titter escaped her lips, but her eyes weren’t smiling. If anything, I thought I caught a glimmer of awkwardness in them. Her fingers, with their long, almond-shaped nails, clutched her glass a little tighter. “I apologize if anything I did conveyed—”

“No, no, no,” I quickly and sternly raised my hand, leaning forward in my seat. “I respect people like you; those who can easily speak the truth without worrying about judgment. Please, I welcome honesty.”

“I—I…”

“You disapprove of my lifestyle, maybe? The womanizer profile, ironically, isn’t a friend to most women.”

“Mr. Niles—”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” Standing up, I slowly walked toward the chess set, extending my hand as I did. As I moved the first white pawn, I was aware of her gaze following my hand. “It’s just that I find myself strangely drawn to you, is all.”

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