Page 33 of Playing For Keeps

“Okay, one drink,” he agreed, following her lead as she strode with purpose, down the elevator and out onto the congested sidewalk. A few trees, most dotted with orange and red, started to drop swirling leaves to the ground. Sebastian couldn’t shake the whirring in his mind, made even worse by the nearby din of a bar growing louder as she swung the door open and stepped inside.

“Rooftop okay?” she shouted over the cacophonous sounds of happy hour, already headed in that direction. Sebastian nodded and followed, strung along by the thread of his own mind telling him this was good. This was what he needed, right? He was tired of feeling like a void, lost and gnawingly empty.

The noise petered out once they’d climbed the stairs and reached the outdoors again, twilight setting the early evening sky ablaze. A row of lights lined the periphery of the space, smooth music pulsing over the speakers, too soft to make out the words but enough to feel the bass in his chest. She strolled up to the bar, comfortable and sure, the opposite of where Sebastian was at right now.

It occurred to him this situation could be misconstrued. He wasn’t loud about his relationship status. Neither he nor Farren thought to bring up the whole “social media official” thing, since they rarely used it. Perhaps Rachel got the wrong impression.

She placed an order for a dirty martini, while Sebastian went with his usual Moscow Mule, a creature of habit right down to the core. Minutes later, chilled drinks in hand, she claimed a table nearby, and the discomfort in Sebastian’s stomach grew. Then his foot-in-mouth disease surfaced, predictably.

“I’m seeing someone.” He cringed at how panicked it sounded. Breathe, dumbass!

Rachel scoffed at him, rolling her eyes in what he could only assume was disbelief at how stupid he was.

“You’re not my type. And anyway, that’s your damn problem, Ian.” She punctuated the statement with a tip of her glass in his direction before taking a swig. “Stop overthinking things. You have too much shit going on inside that brain of yours. There’s always this wounded puppy expression on your face.” Rachel shook her head with a disgusted sound.

“Even in the meeting where Andrew gave you the opportunity to pitch, you still had that damn look on your face. Long-suffering and a little shocked. If you don’t want to be there, if you don’t plan on putting in a good showing, then you need to step aside for those of us who do.”

Sebastian took a gulp of his own drink, alcohol and ice burning on the way down, and he sputtered out his response.

“What the hell do you mean? I put in the work! I’ve already been pushed aside to make room for you.” He was still smarting from his meeting with Andrew and the precarious edge he dangled over. She looked slightly taken aback, shaking her head. For the umpteenth time that week, Sebastian wished Farren was there.

“I’m not talking about working sixty-hour weeks and being Andrew’s pack horse. I don’t know what happened in your meeting with him, but this is news to me.” A thin dark brow raised, and Sebastian understood why she’d gotten to where she was. She paid attention; she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. In a male-dominated field, she made sure to leave her mark. Even now, one look was enough to silence him.

“It’s about networking, it’s about looking like a model employee—someone who embodies the company values, approachable and smart.” She finished the swig of her drink and set the glass down on the table, no coaster. “You do the work, you go home, then work some more. They pile it on because they know you won’t complain. They give you this extra shit with a shiny label on it. And you shut up about it, and you look miserable.”

It hurt to hear. His chest cracked under the truth behind what she said. Sebastian’s whole thing was keeping his head down, getting work done, hoping it would speak for itself. Wishing he could redeem himself for how badly things ended at his last job. His plan was always to go back to the grindstone, regardless of how he felt daily. But maybe it was eroding too much of him away in the process.

“You have to sell it. You need to have confidence and grit. I don’t think you have that in you, Ian.”

What could he say when she was right? What could he say when his boss had effectively told him the same?

“What would you have me do, Rachel? If you’re so convinced of my ineptitude, why don’t you complain about me to Andrew. He seems about ready to kick me to the curb for good.” Just like Ohio. The bitterness from earlier welled inside him, rising with the leftover anger he’d tried to smother and which flared back to life under her scrutiny.

“Because I play by the rules, or at least I try to. I don’t plan on sabotaging or screwing my way to the top. The same way you want people to view you based on merit…” She shrugged, her gesture at sympathizing not lost on him, so different from Ashley, he felt a little ashamed for judging her. “Only I know I bring more to the table than you do.” So much confidence, brash almost.

“Then why invite me out for a drink, when you’ve already won, when you know how badly I wanted this and how hard I was working on it?”

“You looked like you were about to lose your shit. It was either a drink or a fistfight, and I could only provide one of those. Seriously though, you’re difficult as hell to read most of the time, and you keep to yourself. It’s hard to believe you even want to be there. Until right now, your ambition seemed like spinelessness. If you want this, really want it, then you’re going to have to show some backbone.” She leaned forward as if getting ready to tell him a secret. “Fight for it!”

“Why are you giving me advice? I know you want the exact same thing I do, and you’re closer to it than I am. Why not keep your mouth shut and let me falter? You're taking the lead on the pitch now.” It didn’t make sense. He wouldn’t do it if he was in her position. It wouldn’t even occur to him.

Rachel and Keith were blips on his radar at best. This was the longest conversation he’d had with either of them outside of work, and even on company time, it was minimal.

“I’m not a total bitch. Plus, I can’t stand Keith, and if I’m going to give a dumb man a pep talk, it might as well be you.” Her smile was small, barely a quirk up on one side, but he found himself returning it. “I’m still not giving up though. Don’t get comfortable because I was kind of nice to you. The project manager job is going to be mine; I just want to make sure it’s a fair fight.”

“Whatever you say. We’ll see who makes it to the finish line.” It felt bold to say, and Sebastian wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d borrowed some of Farren’s spunk for his response.

They chatted about some bland stuff as he finished off his drink, TV shows they were watching, the tiniest bit of office gossip—apparently Keith signed up for ballroom dance lessons outside of work, and one of the secretaries saw him there. Rachel made it sound like a potential meet-cute but couldn’t confirm or deny a relationship. Although it was meant to be teasing, a light ribbing of a fellow-employee, Sebastian found himself thinking good for him. At least he’d found something to keep him happy outside of the pressing demands they bowed under.

Sebastian left her with a wave, asking if she’d be okay to get home, and Rachel assured him she had a long night to go before she was ready to leave.

He mulled it over as the train bumped along on his commute home, again when he walked by the coffee shop and saw some of the gamers enjoying their weekly meetup. What would it be like to have something like that? Somewhere he could be himself and do something purely for the enjoyment of it all?

When his phone rang later that night and Farren’s voice was choked with tears, it all faded into background noise. She was in a car, and she was on her way home. Wouldn’t arrive until early morning, but Sebastian offered to wait up for her.

“I just want to sink into my own bed to forget this whole trip even happened!”

“I’m here, tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.” He had no idea what was going on. Last time they’d spoken, she’d been a little bored in her small town but good otherwise.

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