The Drafter

Nodding, she headed that way, shivering when his hand slipped from her. Eyes were still on them as she crossed to the shadowed corner, wincing at the electronic whine coming from an out-of-phase holo table and glad the place had only the one. No one was playing it, probably because it was out of synch and the graphix were jumping.

 

Music thumped up from the floor through Peri’s feet as she set her handbag on the small drinks table and slid up onto the high stool. A heartbeat of electronic dance music seemed to carry the colored lights to the corners of the two-story, upscale club, but the spinning flashes were mere hints under the strong glow of the nearby low-hanging pool table lights. The atmosphere, even on a Thursday night, was alive and electrifying, a heady mix of angles and vectors surrounded by chaotic movement and life.

 

Just what I need right now, she thought as Jack ran the play card to free the balls. Smiling, she idly spun through the club’s attable menu system, ordering a basket of wings and two red wines as usual. Tradition dictated that dessert would be determined by the winner—which would be her if she had her way.

 

“My break?” she asked when Jack lifted the rack up and away, not liking that she didn’t remember how they’d left their last game.

 

“As I recall,” he said as he handed Peri her cue stick.

 

Slipping from the stool, she leaned to rest the flat of her arm on the smooth finish of the pool table. Her swollen eye throbbed as she held her breath and lined up the shot. The cue slid between her fingers like silk, once, twice, and then away … and she straightened at the familiar thump and crack.

 

Smiling, she watched the balls scatter as the nine dropped in. With the noise below, it was more a feeling than a sound, but satisfying nevertheless. Around them, the men’s interest waned, her excellent break telling them she belonged.

 

Jack sighed. “This might be a while,” he said with mock glumness.

 

“I might miss,” she promised as she exhaled and lined up another shot.

 

“Doubt it,” he grumbled, the slim wafer of glass glowing in his palm as he checked his messages.

 

“Ten in the corner, off the bank,” she whispered, feeling better already. The thump of the cue against the ball pulled her upright, and she stood as the ball dropped in. She missed her next shot, but their wine had shown up, and she decided to order dessert when Jack wasn’t looking. He wasn’t going to win, even if it required cheating.

 

“Your go,” she said as she came back to the table and touched his face just to feel the faint stubble. I love seeing him this relaxed, she thought, wishing she could remember more nights like this. “I sank two.”

 

“You’re off your game,” he said as he took his cue. “Looks like it’s apple pie tonight.”

 

“Doubt it,” she said, sighing as he moved forward to study the table. From below, the music shifted to something slower, the lights lowering to spin at the floor in lazy circles. Jack settled on his shot, and she scrolled through the menu, ordering chocolate cake as she waited for the exact … moment … to distract him.

 

“How’s Bill?” she asked suddenly, and Jack jumped, miscuing. The cue ball spun in an awkward spiral to hit nothing, and he frowned, knowing she’d done it on purpose. “I’ve seen you check your messages twice now,” she added as he straightened.

 

“As antsy as always,” he said. “I know this is our time, but I was tired of avoiding his texts. They found the body already, and he wanted to make sure we’re okay.”

 

Peri grimaced. Sloppy. Leaving bodies was sloppy. “You told him I drafted?” she asked, not yet ready to think about the additional debriefing that a draft engendered.

 

Jack wouldn’t look at her, and she disliked the unusual avoidance. “He wants us to check in when we hit Detroit,” he said. “No rush, but no … what did he say … lollygagging?”

 

Peri rolled her eyes, imagining the heavy, somewhat prissy man saying just that. Blowing the dust from the tip, she smiled, forgiving him for bringing up work. The lights had risen again, playing on the ceiling of the open floor below the loft. “You didn’t leave me much,” she said as she sashayed forward. “I think you missed on purpose.”

 

“I like watching you shoot,” he said as he stood behind her to look over the layout.

 

“You just like seeing my ass in the air,” she quipped back.

 

He grinned, tucking her short hair behind an ear. “It’s a very nice ass, Peri.”

 

Laughing, she shied away from him. “Maybe if I bank it off there …,” she said, losing herself in the math. Stretching over the table, she tested the angle. It would be tight.

 

“You’re a little off,” Jack said, and she felt him lean in, hanging over her to see her shot setup. “I think you need to angle it more. This might be a little hard for you,” he said, pressing into her.

 

“It’s not how hard it is that worries me.” She liked his nearness, the way she could feel his warmth against her. “It’s how long it is.”

 

“Mmmm.” He grinned, inches away.

 

“Is this better?” she said, not looking away from him.