Page 1 of Power Play Pursuit

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"A hug is so powerful, and mine are amazing—or so I’ve heard."

James Adler

Elizabeth Bowen is a woman who ages like fine wine. Every time I see her, she's more beautiful than the last. I'm reminded of that fact again as I saunter into Rise & Grind for my morning cup of coffee. She's grabbing something from a high cupboard, her shoulder-length blonde hair shimmering under the sunlight, her velvet skin as flawless as ever.

“Good morning,” she says, flashing her stunning smile asshe spins around, but it turns into a grimace when her gray-blue eyes land on me.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“And a very good morning to you too! You always make me feel so special when I come in here.”

“Oh, forgive me.” She flicks a towel over her shoulder. “I forgot I was supposed to bow down in the presence of a Stanley Cup champion.”

“Well, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.” I give her a wink. We did bust our butts for that trophy. Not that Elizabeth Bowen cares. But that’s precisely what makes this woman so interesting.

“Hey,” Marissa calls out, hustling from the backroom with a bright smile. “Where’s Aaron?”

“Good morning, Mrs. Miles,” I say with a little bow, then step aside to reveal her beau standing outside. “He’s taking a call.”

“Got it. So, what can we get you? The usual?” Marissa asks, and I nod. I’m not really a huge coffee fan like Miles is, but stopping by Rise & Grind is still my favorite moment of the day.

“Already on it,” Elizabeth says, placing a large paper cup under the espresso machine.

The bell on the door jangles, andAaron Miles struts inside, greeting the girls.

“Hey, you,” he croons to Marissa as they both lean over the counter to kiss. But it lasts a little longer than a quick peck.

I clear my throat. When they still don’t break the kiss, I sigh. “Oh, come on! This is a place of business. Food is served here!”

“Don’t mind him,” Miles says to his wife, kissing her again. “He’s just jealous.”

I shake my head and avert my eyes, pretending there isn’t an ounce of truth in his words.

“Okay. Here you are,” Elizabeth announces, placing the to-go cup in front of me. A new design is printed on it, with the sentence “Best Coffee in Brooklyn” scrawled proudly above their logo. I pick it up and smile. “Nice cups. Congrats again, ladies.”

“Thanks,” they both say in unison, since Marissa and Miles have finally detached. “It’s been amazing getting all this recognition,” Marissa adds. “Wonderful for business.”

“And well deserved,” Miles chimes in, handing Marissa his own glittery pink cup. He lost a bet to her years ago, and now he has to drink from the glammed-up tumbler every day.

“So, Elizabeth,” I begin, leaning on the counter as I take out my wallet.

Her scarlet lips purse. “It’s Beth.”

I ignore her, preferring to use her glorious full name. “How about that date?” I ask, waggling my eyebrows.

She bites her lip to contain her smile. “Never gonna happen, James. You must have taken too many pucks to the head. I already told you. I have a boyfriend.”

To my utmost displeasure. But I wouldn’t be a top player in the NHL if I wasn’t persistent. Besides, I know she enjoys our banter. I can see it in the way her eyes gleam when we’re chatting.

Marissa and Miles both laugh at our exchange as she hands him his coffee.

Before I can open my mouth again, Elizabeth’s phone rings, and she glances to the counter to check the screen. Gone is the gleam in her eyes, replaced by a flash of sadness. It only lasts an instant, but it’s there. She's good at putting up a front—we’re similar in that way—but I see right through her facade. I wish she’d let me in, but I know she’s not ready yet. And with every week that passes, I begin to wonder if she’ll ever be.

“Excuse me for a second,” she whispers before picking up the phone and walking to the back.

Clearing my throat, I force a nonchalant smile and nod to Marissa. “Well, we’d better get going,” I say, my eyes drawn to the Raptors merch on the small table. Aside from being the best coffee shop in town, Rise & Grind is also an official vendor of the New York Raptors merchandise. I suppose it’s kind of a given, since Marissa is Coach Martin’s daughter.

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