Page 20 of Play to Win

“Speaking of fetishes,” Théo mutters.

We keep going, laughing.

“Is it the uniform that turns you on?”I tease.“Or the spanking?”

“I’m not intobeingspanked.”

“Ah.”This is interesting.

We next encounter a man in a Batman costume who jumps out at us with his wings spread, then a couple of women dressed like showgirls with big feathered wings and headpieces, except they’re both clearly drunk.One has a drooping wing and a broken heel on her shoe, making her limp, the other holding on to her, her headpiece sagging over her eyes.

We go into a couple of casinos, and Théo spends twenty dollars on a few slot machines.I refuse to touch the things because I’m terrified that I’ll be like Chris, and the slot machines will be like crack and once I push those buttons I’ll be addicted and descend into gambling hell.

When we leave there, we pass a place that sells tequila slushies.“As if we need more booze,” he mutters, but then he buys us each one to go, and we carry them as we stroll down the street.I suck some back and, whoa—not only are these huge, they’re strong.

Eventually we stop and sit on the edge of the fountain outside the Cipriani, drinking our slushies.I toe off my shoes and swivel to put my feet into the cool water.“Aaaaah.”

“Is that allowed?”Théo asks.

“I have no idea.I don’t care.It’s not like there are a lot of people around.”

He takes off his shoes, rolls his pants up, and dunks his feet.

“You don’t wear socks.”

“Nope.Never.Socks are the devil.”

I laughed.“Even with a suit?”

“Even with a suit.”

I stir my slushie with the straw.“Okay, tell me more about where we’re going.”

“Marina del Rey.A guy who used to play for the Condors owns the condo.Apparently there are three units, and his was sitting empty, so I’m renting it from him.”

“The Condors are ...?”

“The team I’ll be working for.The California Condors.”

“Ah.”

“My mom’s helping get things set up for me.”

“Your parents live there too?”

“Oh.Yeah.Well, not Santa Monica.My dad actually owns a different team.”

“What?Are you serious?”I gape at him.“Your family ownstwohockey teams?”

He smiles.“It does sound kind of crazy, doesn’t it?My grandpa owns the Condors, and my dad owns the Golden Eagles in Long Beach.Well, my dad and some other investors.That’s a pretty recent thing.”He sighs.“I think my dad just bought the team to piss off my grandpa.”

“That’s quite a gesture.”I can’t even imagine how much a hockey team costs, but I’m sure it’s more than I’ll ever see in my lifetime.“He must have beenreallypissed.”

“It’s a long story.Long and ugly.”

“Ugh.Families.”I hold out my slushie cup.

He taps his against it.“Right?”

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