She's Got Game Page 23

  Cody: I love you, too.

  This event wasn’t like the others. Only sixteen players remained, the best in the country. We’d beaten hundreds of hardcore gamers to get here. The tension buzzing through the air ran much higher than any tournament I’d ever been to.

  Four games kicked things off; one winner from each advanced to the next. One game with the top four. One final winner declared. No points. No second place. Winner take all.

  Unlike the other games I played, no one spoke other than as necessary to advance the game. Moves happened quickly, efficiently. We all knew our individual strategies, so no one took extra time. We’d moved beyond trash talk and polite conversation. The game unfolded as if choreographed, and at the end, I grinned at the other players while revealing my ten points.

  Cody also won his game. We rehashed our mornings over a quick lunch, then returned to the conference room full of excitement.

  This was it. The moment we’d been building toward since the day we met. My heart pounded at the thought of finally facing off at the final table. Would our relationship be the same after the final cards were played? How would I feel if he beat me? How would he feel if I beat him? These thoughts swirled through my brain, but I forced myself to suppress them. I couldn’t win if I focused on my new boyfriend.

  For his part, Cody seemed so completely at ease, I almost wanted to rattle him. But it wasn’t his fault he’d done this before. It was only when he reached over to squeeze my hand that I sensed his nervousness. Facial features lied, but sweaty palms didn’t.

  As with the first two games, play moved quickly. Cards rustled, dice struck the table, pieces scratched across the board. I’d done well with the initial set-up, managing to get spots that not only gave me the resources I needed, but that lent themselves to trading cheaply with the bank rather than depending on other players. Across the board, Cody’s pieces lay in a similar formation.

  After twenty minutes, the four of us stood tied, with nine points each. It was the most intense game I’d ever played, and I loved every second of it. Part of me never wanted it to end.

  Across the table, a guy named Bill rolled the dice. Seven. Bad luck. With a groan, he and Cody each discarded half their cards. I counted my own cards, partially out of habit, partially to show the other players, but didn’t hold enough to lose any. Bill took his turn, and play moved to Cody.

  He rolled the dice and glared at the result. Not another seven, which might have prolonged the game, but a six. I accepted two resources cards from him, hardly daring to breathe. This was it. I had exactly what I needed to win.

  “Does anyone have any ore?” Cody asked. “I’m looking to trade wood.”

  Oh, I’ll take your wood, I thought.

  He met my eyes and chuckled, as if reading my mind.

  My hand contained six resource cards. Four depicted ore, two wheat. On my next turn, I’d get to ten points whether I traded with him or not.

  To my left, Greg shook his head. “I’ve been trying to pull ore for the past five minutes.”

  Bill also declined the trade. “Sorry, man.”

  I bit my lip, hesitating. The card burned a hole in my hand. I didn’t need it. But Cody already had nine points, and if I gave him the card, he’d use it. Meaning he’d win, and I’d lose.

  In Chicago, I’d done everything in my power to get him eliminated. I’d made myself into a complete jerk, because taking him out became more important than behaving like a rational human being. Shockingly, he forgave me.

  By giving Cody the card, I could make it all up to him, once and for all. Even the score, start over with a clean slate, and absolve myself for acting like such a terrible person.

  “Carrots?”

  On the other hand, I’d come here to win. Cody came here to win, too. The game was as much about luck as skill. Had Cody rolled a nine instead of a six, he’d have gotten the ore he needed, and I wouldn’t be having this internal debate.

  Our eyes met. He gave me a knowing smile. I remembered our first game together, back in Boston. When I pretended I never traded, and he pressed me to make an exception. Cody paid close attention to the game, and he usually had a good idea of what the other players drew each turn. He’d known what cards I held in my hand then, and he knew now.

  We’d reached an accord the night before, a mutual decision to end the war and allow ourselves to be together. But that didn’t mean helping him win.

  He opened his mouth, and I braced myself. He knew what to say to make me give him the card. I owed him, and I wouldn’t have blamed him for saying so. I honestly didn’t know if I could resist giving him the card if he called me out in front of everyone. Even at the final game of the competition.

  “Looks like you owe me dinner.” He handed me the dice with a knowing wink, the universal gaming signal that his turn had ended. “Good game.”

  Epilogue

  Gallivanting Gwen

  September 22

  Regular readers may have noticed that, while I talk about my dad sometimes on this blog, I never, ever mention the woman who gave birth to me. There’s a reason for that: she walked out when I was a kid, and for years, I didn’t allow myself to think about her.

  That all changed over the summer when I ran into her in New York City. She pretended not to know me. The other day, I cornered her in an elevator after discovering we were attending separate conferences in Las Vegas.

  We spoke a little, but there are many things I never got a chance to say. I hope my readers will forgive me for using this forum. I don’t have her address, don’t want to know where she lives, and this letter is really for me. Whether or not she ever sees it, I’m done seeking my mother’s love and approval.

  To Beverly:

  For nearly twenty years, I wondered why you left. I wondered what it was about me that made you not want to stay. I wondered what I, a ten year old, could have done to make you love me. This has spilled over into every area of my life, from the way I clung to Dad (who is amazing, by the way—you’re a fool for letting him go), to the fact that I chose a life path that kept me on the move. I stayed in the U.S., knowing you probably wouldn’t have gone to a foreign country. As if I thought, by traveling, I’d one day find you again.

  I did. Unfortunately, our meeting was not what I hoped. You didn’t take me into your arms and cry, begging my forgiveness. You didn’t give me such a good reason for leaving that it would be impossible not to forgive you, like you had a rare genetic disease and spent the last 20 years searching for a cure so the disease wouldn’t kill me, too.

  No. You claimed not to know me. Suddenly, all my fears came to fruition. I was unlovable. I was forgettable, worth leaving. I was nothing, and no one would ever want me. You instilled all of those feelings in me in a moment that lasted less time than it took you to hail a taxi to get away.

  I didn’t know how I’d recover from the shock, but there you were again, crossing my path for the second time in two months. Maybe it’s fate. I don’t know. What I do know is, talking to you didn’t make me feel any better than being ignored. But it gave me some very useful information.

  It took longer than it should’ve to realize this, but I am worthy of being loved. The problem isn’t me, it’s you. I don’t need you. Thank you for giving me the best father a girl could ask for. Thank you for your cruel, heartless moment that forced me to stop blaming myself for your actions.

  I’m still traveling, but for me, not to prove anything to you. I’m going to Paris with someone I almost lost because I was so hung up on the way you treated me. That’s right, going to The City of Love. Something you don’t understand at all.

  You won’t hear from me again. If we cross paths, I’ll be the one to turn and walk away. Have a nice life. I’ve no desire to be part of it.

  From,

  Gwen (Your daughter)

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First and
foremost, thank you to Angel for introducing me to “scorched earth” gaming, and specifically for telling that story right when I needed it the most. Had we not had that conversation, this might be a far less interesting book.

  Thank you to my critique partners: Farah Heron, Kelley Proctor, Marty Mayberry, and Kara Reynolds. Huge thanks to Laura Brown for helping me iron out the ending. A very grateful honorable mention to the creators of Settlers of Catan and Dominion.

  Michelle Richter, thank you so much for everything. Thank you Wendy for believing in me and this series. You and the entire team of Kensington have been fantastic throughout this process.

  Thank you to my friends and family for all your support. And thank you so much to my readers. I couldn’t do any of this without you.

  Read on for a preview of

  Laura Heffernan’s next Gamer Girls romance

  AGAINST THE RULES

  Available in fall 2019 from Lyrical Press

  Chapter 1

  “Welcome to THE HAUNTED PLACE. This is a cooperative game. You will win or lose as one. The more in sync you are with the other players the better, so get to know each other. You’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”

  - The Haunted Place Player Guide

  The guy in front of me shifted from one foot to the other as we slowly and deliberately reviewed every. single. strategy game on the shelves. For the past hour. “What about this one?” he asked. “Do you like this one?”

  “That’s a fun game, but it’s for younger players. Are you buying for a child?”

  He blushed. “No.”

  Usually, I liked my job at Game On!, even if it wasn’t what I’d planned to do after grad school. I loved introducing new gamers to old favorites and helping long-time gamers find new stuff. I even enjoyed helping the ordinary indecisive customer. But this guy had no idea what he wanted, and seemed increasingly unlikely to buy anything at all before we reached retirement age. When he first started coming in, I’d thought he was cute, with his sandy brown hair and blue eyes peering out from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Taller than me, but not too tall, with a bit of stubble in the evenings.

  Unfortunately, the more he got on my nerves as a customer, the less good-looking he became. He always lingered and rarely spent any money. He probably only came into the store to compare our prices to Amazon. An unfortunate hazard of working in an indie game store: we couldn’t match big store or online sales.

  Behind me, the store’s phone rang. I wished I could leave my customer to answer it, but in-person customers came first.

  Trying to hide my impatience, I snuck a peek at the clock on the far wall. Three minutes until closing. One hundred eighty seconds until my friends arrived with a brand-new, never-before-played tabletop board game (by anyone—we’d be play-testing this one!). Then I could politely ask this guy to leave.

  As if someone heard my silent call for help, the bells on the front door chimed, and one of my best friends appeared in the doorway. Shannon wore a wide grin and about seven coats. It was beyond me how a person could walk wearing so many layers they can’t put their arms down, but that’s what happened when a Florida girl moved to Boston for grad school and stayed to help her nana. Several winters later, my poor friend still never got warm.

  Before she hung up her coats, Shannon set a large shopping bag on the ground. My heart started pounding. It was one thing to know what she’d be bringing, but now it was here. The game. The game we’d been waiting to play for almost two years. The top secret game we’d heard so much about, but never been allowed to so much as peek at. Now it sat less than fifteen feet away. I wanted to squeal and race over and scoop it up and rub it on my face. My friends would understand. But unfortunately, my customer probably would not.

  With a huge smile, I waved to Shannon and pointed toward the back over the customer’s shoulder. We couldn’t play in the main area after hours because people saw us and knocked to get in. After a few complaints long before I started working here, the owners set a game room up in the back.

  “Is the store closing soon?” my customer asked. He pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes.

  “In a few minutes.” As the face of the business, I should invite him to stay and browse as long as he wanted, but he wasn’t going to buy anything.

  “Oh, okay. Sorry.” He seemed about to say something else, but the bells over the door chimed again, drawing his attention.

  Cody and Gwen stood inside the doorway, holding hands and smiling in their “about to be married” way that always brought a big smile to my face and a pang to my stomach. Gwen was one of my best friends, and I was delighted for her. But it was hard not to wish I could find what they had. A couple of years ago, I thought I had it. Until everything crashed and burned so hard, I still hadn’t convinced myself to dip a toe back into the dating pool.

  I’d never tell Gwen and Cody about my jealousy. They made an adorable couple, and truly, I was ecstatic for them. Given her past, Gwen had never wanted to take a chance on love. After watching her and Cody fumble their way toward each other for months, I knew they were the real deal. They belonged together. It would happen for me someday, when I was ready.

  Cody wasn’t like my ex. He wouldn’t cheat on Gwen, steal her money, then get arrested for running a pyramid scheme.

  I called out a greeting to my friends, then turned back to my customer.

  “Is tonight game night?” he asked. “I could play with you.”

  “I’m sorry, but tonight’s a private event,” I said, trying to figure out how to get him out without being rude. “We’re play-testing a brand new game.”

  His eyes lit up. “That sounds awesome! What is it?”

  Behind me, the phone rang again. I ignored it in favor of giving a quick answer. “Do you know legacy games?”

  A legacy game was designed to be played as a campaign, which took place over multiple gaming sessions. During each “level,” things happened that led the players to discover new rules, additional characters, different obstacles, or other changes. New stickers got applied directly to the rule book or game board, becoming permanent additions. Some pieces were destroyed as the game continued. Players received new goals for each game. The nature of a legacy game rendered the board unplayable after the campaign concluded, but they provided so many hours of fun, it didn’t matter. Unfortunately, they also required the same core group of players for each session, and some could take a year or more to finish, so you had to be pretty hardcore to get into this particular type of game.

  “Like SeaFall? Awesome! I would definitely play if you needed another person.”

  “This one is, I believe, sort of like Betrayal at House on the Hill meets SeaFall.” I said. “Shannon hasn’t told us much about it. But we’re full.”

  His face fell. “Will you be playing a public game at the store soon?”

  “I’m not sure. My boss should be here tomorrow, if you want to check.” I stressed tomorrow, hoping he would take the hint to leave.

  “What if I left you my number?” he asked. “You could call me.”

  “Sure. I’ll tell him you’re interested.” I didn’t mention that the owner should be here any minute to play with us, because my fingers itched to open the new game.

  “Yeah, okay. I should go.”

  I didn’t argue, ushering him out as politely as possible and even thanking him for shopping with us.

  As I locked the front door behind him, Gwen appeared at my elbow. “What are you doing?”

  “Working. Sorry that guy took so long. I was hoping he’d buy something.”

  She sighed. “He wasn’t planning to buy anything. How many times has he come in here?”

  I shrugged. “Five or six? I’m not sure. I see him every once in awhile.”

  “Does he ever hang out and talk to anyone else for like twenty minutes?”

  “I d
on’t know. I’m usually the only one working when he’s here.”

  “And you think that’s a coincidence?”

  I didn’t see what she was getting at. “I work alone almost every evening.”

  She shook her head. “Holly, you’re hopeless. He likes you. He doesn’t care about legacy games or what we’re doing. He wants to spend more time with you. That’s why he offered you his number. He doesn’t want the store to call him. He wants you to call him, you dope.”

  Her words made me chuckle. “No way. He’s a customer.”

  “He’s a cute customer.”

  That he was, although he’d be even cuter if he’d buy stuff. I guessed what Gwen was getting at, but I still didn’t want to date anyone. The fact that I got more excited by a new game’s arrival than the good-looking guy flirting with me seemed like a sign.

  Gwen said, “Come on. How long has it been since you went on a date?”

  I shifted my feet and gazed at my fingernails. It had been more than a year and a half since I found out my ex-fiancé was cheating on me, which Gwen knew since she, Shannon, and Cody busted him. The silence grew until finally, I had to say something. “I tried, in the beginning. A couple of parties, a couple of make out sessions that never turned into anything. You were there.”

  “Uh-huh. Getting drunk and sucking face at a gamer conference isn’t exactly getting out there. What happened to that online profile I set up for you?”

  “I went online, and I looked around. They’re all cheaters.”

  “All of them? Every single guy who uses the internet is a cheater? It says that in their profiles.”

  “I used the notes you gave me. ‘Discrete’ equals ‘cheater.’ ‘Looking for someone to spoil’ means cheater. No profile picture? Married. Likes dogs? Cheater.”

  She gave me an exasperated look. “I never said that last one.”

  “Okay, fine. But the others seemed to pop up on every other profile I spotted.”