Page 5 of Tributary

CHAPTER FIVE

Diana

“I’M GETTING OUT the Scrabble board,” my father says as Asa and I finish up the dishes. “Rose and I can be a team.”

Asa sets the towel on the counter and says, “I can sit out. I’m that guy who—”

“Absolutely not, Asa,” my mother looks actually offended at this suggestion. “And Daniel, don’t be ridiculous. There are no teams in Scrabble. I will sit out the first round and then jump in when Archer gets frustrated.”

All of us laugh except Archie, who does much better at chess or games involving math and logic. Soon enough, I’m lost in my letters, trying desperately to think of non-sexual words…and failing miserably.

“Dude,” Archer says after Asa’s opening move. “Jynx is not a word. Come on.”

Asa arches a brow and shit, he looks hot. “Is that a challenge, then?”

Archer looks back and forth between my parents, who are tight lipped and trying to keep their faces neutral. Ma stands behind Dad, rubbing his shoulders, trying not to point at his letters or help him. Archer kicks back from the table and stands. “You guys are the worst. Jynx for an opening move. Get the hell out of here.” He stomps out of the room with his beer and my mother settles into his seat.

“Well,” she says, cracking her knuckles. “That was faster than I thought. Asa, darling, I see your jynx and I will add OE.”

I spend the next hour with a flush on my face, not willing to explain that I keep seeing SEXY or COCK in my tiles, and unwilling to play any of those words. Asa is surprisingly good at Scrabble, lining up words alongside each letter rather than going for the 7-letter long words my father can always pluck from the universe.

Before long, it’s obvious that Asa is going to win 2 out of 3 rounds of Scrabble, and the more I realize this, the more I feel hot and bothered. He contemplates his tiles, his long fingers drumming on the table. I watch his face as he considers. His foot grazes against my leg under the table as he sets down FLUSH for a triple word score and my father claps him on the back. I actually feel my nipples tingle as he lines up each tile along another, forming five tiny words for literally hundreds of points. I try to feel horrified that slick Scrabble moves turn me on so much, but I can’t get there. Asa Wexler ruling the tiles was hot as hell.

Archer stomps back in the room and throws the dictionary on the table. “How in the hell did you know jynx was a kind of woodpecker, man? Seriously.”

Asa leans back in his chair, scratching the stubble on his chin, thinking how best to answer Archer. “Scrabble isn’t about knowing what the words mean, Archer,” he says. Then he meets my eye, his gaze heated. “It’s about knowing which parts go where for maximum impact.”

The room feels too hot and I walk over to the sink for a glass of water, realizing as I head over that I’m more intoxicated than I thought. That or I’m just so unaccustomed to losing at Scrabble my mind is actually reeling. I don’t like feeling attracted to Asa for more than his looks. Nothing good can come from me wanting him for his sharp mind. I have to remind myself that lots of people probably could beat me at Scrabble if I took more time to play.

My mom walks over to me as Dad packs up the board. “You ok, honey?”

I nod. “Just not used to meeting a contender is all.” I try to smile, but I think she sees through it.

“You look a bit flushed, dear. I’m glad you have some water.”

Much as I’d prefer to sleep in my own bed, my parents insist I should stay over. My mother even benevolently offers to let me back in my childhood bedroom, recently remodeled as the River Room for when she hosts international visitors. My dad hauled all our childhood possessions into the basement and decorated each room with a nature theme, since Ma felt it wasn’t polite to ask dignified guests to stay at the Oak Creek Inn.

I keep expecting Indigo to feel insulted that Ma shuns the Inn this way, but my best friend assures me she’s almost always booked solid anyway, between parents visiting the college and people looking to escape reality.

Between my flushed face and the snow and all the beer, I don’t really have a strong case to walk home alone in the dark. And so I find myself playing cards in my thermals with my brother and my parents’ house guest, who won’t quit staring at my tits.

“Go fish, Archie,” I tell him, tossing back the rest of my beer. I’m not sure why I’m drinking so much tonight. There’s a lot I need to figure out about my behavior today. Maybe it’s that Asa “swagger” Wexler reminds me of my ex. Maybe I just don’t like the guy. Or maybe I do like him, I think, and then quickly shake my head to move that thought aside.

I toss down my cards. “I’m out, guys. I have to monitor my grow house before I get too trashed to assess data.” I walk into the living room and pull up my app, checking on the temperature and humidity at each growing station. I’m so engrossed I don’t realize the guys have followed me until Archer plunks down next to me on the couch.

He makes to look over my shoulder and I pull the phone close to my chest. “What the hell, Archer? I don’t spy on your client files.”

“Diana,” he pauses to belch at me and I kick him. “Why are you so testy about your plants?”

“Why do you act like this is just some herb garden? This is my research, Archer. I’m conducting biological research just like Hunter. God, I wish I cared about micro gravity just so Wexler here could pay to send me to space to get away from you.”

I’m about to start beating on him in earnest when Asa Wexler shocks the hell out of me by asking, “What were you saying earlier? About hops in space?”

I’m so stunned that he was paying attention to what I said that I forget my douchebag brother and tell Asa, “there’s a certain kind of hops I want to try to grow. The hop swaths in Tattnang, in Germany, are supposedly big enough to see from space. But I keep forgetting to ask Hunter to look for me.”

“I’ll make sure he looks,” Asa says, holding my gaze with a smoldering undertone.

I start babbling, telling him and Archer about the lake effect in Tettnang, keeping the temperature stable in the region. “The winters are warmer and the summers are slightly cooler, but I think I can mimic that ideal growing environment indoors,” I tell him, slightly breathless.

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