Page 37 of King of Players

It wasn’t long before the director put me out of my misery, signaling the beginning of shooting. Naturally, the kiss came out perfect, and when the director yelled, “And that’s a wrap!”, everyone applauded.

Including Kaira, with a massive grin on her lips.

Walking over to her, I wiped my lips with a napkin. “What did you think?”

Looking up at me, her eyes sparkled with a brand of defiance that I enjoyed. My elation only lasted for a second before she said, “I think you need to expand your range a little bit when it comes to kissing. I don’t leave the office and talk to my friends the same way I do associates.”

Repeatedly blinking, I furrowed my eyebrows. “W—What?”

“Is there a private room where we can talk?”

“Uh—Sure.” I led her into my dressing room, closing the door behind us. “What’s up?”

“What I’m about to say is not—in any way—a reflection of you. You’ve been great.”

“Geez.” I chuckled, taking off the blazer. “Sounds like we’re breaking up.”

“What’s there to break up?” She paused, and I stared at her face, baffled. “That’s the point, Chad. There’s nothing. There will be nothing. I simply don’t see myself fitting into…” She gestured around with both hands. “All of this.”

“This… this is just my job.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “And whether we like it or not, our jobs affect our lives. I simply can’t risk socializing with a group of strangers to realize that my private life is being discussed amongst them between stock market updates and yesterday’s golf scores.”

“Excuse me?”

“Please don’t insult my intelligence by undermining yours. You know exactly what I mean.”

“I can be discreet,” I quickly defended.

“But not invisible. The walls have ears, and everyone has eyes… everywhere. Let’s be adults about this and do the right thing before it gets out of hand.”

“Kaira, I—”

“C’mon, Chad. You know I’m right. You know I’m not the kind of woman who can handle that sort of pressure.”

Unfortunately, I understood. Slowly nodding, I caught my mind already racing to conjure up ways to get over the dream she had briefly brought to life. “I understand,” I whispered.

Lifting up her chin an inch, she radiated with overpowering confidence. For my own ego, I wanted to believe that it was skilfully designed to mask great disappointment. As she took a step toward the door, I failed to look away. With her hand on the knob, she said, “I’m certain you received the foundation meeting schedule for this month. See you next week. Don’t be late.”

“Sure, yeah,” I mindlessly said. “See you then.”

“Bye, Chad.”

And just like that, she walked out.

Certainly, that wasn’t the first time a woman had rejected me for reasons that had nothing to do with my person. But the fact that I was seeing it as rejection was the curious part. We’d only slept together twice and barely had a relationship to begin with, so why did I feel the black smoke of grief fill my lungs with every breath I drew?

To distract myself from processing what had just happened, I grabbed my phone and sat down, going through the calls I had missed and the texts that waited for replies. For the next fifteen minutes, I allowed myself to go down a social rabbit hole. A call to a relative, a message to a friend, a joke on a text thread… until my friend Nathan Wright reminded me that our friend Dean was in town. Dean was a boat enthusiast, and to celebrate, Abel and Nathan thought that we must invite ourselves onto one of his boats for a small gathering.

Naturally, I was on board, pun intended.

Having already prepared my system with two pre-party drinks, I joined the men on the boat at around ten o’clock. Dean—as per his habit—gave me a dirty look for arriving an hour late. He did, however, unclench the minute I mentioned that I had brought a special bottle of his favorite whiskey. “I scored this a month ago and swore that we wouldn’t open it without you here,” I explained as I slammed it down on the table.

Dean’s childish smile began to take over; a variant that he would only show to close friends and loved ones. Even though we rarely got to see Dean—because of his frequent travels and trips—he remained one of those people with the ability to make one’s heart open up as soon as we reunited. With his calm, nearly angelic features, young-looking physique and admirable demeanor and mind, Dean was a friend I always looked forward to seeing.

After the necessary initial banter, we—well, I—started badgering Dean to spill the dirt on his last trip. Dean was a painfully private person to begin with, and even during our craziest trips, the most reckless thing I had seen him do was considered another Tuesday for me. And after plenty of poking and provocation, it appeared as though there was truly no dirt to be shared. That was when Nathan expertly turned the table, aiming for the usual suspect.

As he shifted in his seat to face me, he threw his arm on the backrest and smiled. “So, Chad. Any new escapades you’d like to share?”

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