Rivalry at Play
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Nadine Gonzalez
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16.5K
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24
HarlequinOne
“A bottle of Prosecco for Ms. Alexandra Lattimore.”
“On the table, please.”
“Very well, Miss.”
The poolside attendant’s voice had roused Alexa from a heat-induced slumber. It had that sweet, syrupy drawl that might have charmed her—if she were easily charmed. She yawned and stretched and felt around for her tote bag. The August heat was relentless. A bottle of water might have been a smarter choice, but she needed something light and bubbly to lift her mood. She’d only been back in her hometown a few days, and already she had to attend a country club fundraiser. Such was life in Royal, Texas. In a move that fooled no one, her mother had purchased the admission ticket, feigned a migraine and insisted Alexa attend in her place. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t do things her way: Prosecco, gelato, a couple of podcasts cued up on her phone and a cabana all to herself.
Upon learning of her plans, her sister, Caitlyn, had chastised her for dropping five hundred dollars on a glorified tent.
“It’s for charity,” Alexa said in her defense. “It’s the right thing to do.”
Caitlyn accused her of being antisocial. “Everyone will be there. It’s a great opportunity to connect with old friends or make new ones. Every time you’ve come home, you’ve stayed here at the ranch unless we’ve dragged you out. Don’t wall yourself off. You just never know.”
It was the sort of bland advice that people in love doled out to anyone who’d listen. Caitlyn—who would swan dive into the pool party on the arm of her new fiancé, flashing a smile brighter than her engagement ring—was sick and sloppy in love. Jonathan and Jayden, her single brothers, weren’t coming until later, so she couldn’t even hang out with them.
“Here’s what I know,” she’d replied. “If anyone wants to connect or reconnect with me, they’ll have to put in the work and find me first.”
Alexa was a prima donna of the highest order, and she was okay with it.
“What if you run into an old flame?”
“Please, Caitlyn,” Alexa huffed. “I was seventeen when I left for college. The boys I knew couldn’t start a flame with a box of matches and lighter fluid.”
Even now, Alexa bristled at the thought. If she encountered an old flame, she’d stomp on it. No one had time for that.
Eyes still half-closed behind dark sunglasses, she found her tote under her lounge chair, drew it onto her lap and rummaged for her money clip. “Wait a minute. I have something for you.”
“No cash. A smile will do.”
Oh? So the Texas Cattleman’s Club attendants were cheeky now. That was new. She’d been away from home awhile, but customer service at the country club had always been world class.
Alexa slid her sunglasses down the length of her nose with the tip of her index finger. She expected to lock eyes with a cocky college student, some kid picking up shifts at the club over the summer. The man towering over her was no kid: tall, Black and built, in a fitted white tee and swim trunks. He had just enough facial hair to define his jaw and draw attention to a teasing smile.
Wait... Oh, God...wait! Oh, God... No!
Alexa’s mind whirled through the seven stages of disbelief before finally rolling to a stop. A name slipped from her lips. “Jackson Strom.”
His smile widened. “At your service.”
Caitlyn had had it right. Just about everyone was here. “I haven’t seen you since...”
“High school,” he supplied.
“Sure.”
Actually, the last time she’d laid eyes on him was the day after graduation, in the parking lot of a convenience store. She was on her way in, and he was heading to his car with a paper bag overflowing with snacks. She’d said “hi,” he’d said “hey,” and that was that.
One month later, she’d moved to New York City for college and law school. Presently, she lived in Miami and worked for a prestigious law firm. This wasn’t her first time back in town. After years away, her recent trips had started in May for the funeral of a lifelong neighbor and family friend. But her visits were short and, for the most part, she stuck close to home. Alexa wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but she’d broken into a cold sweat at the thought of coming to the Texas Cattleman’s Club—the beating heart of Royal’s society—alone, hence the cabana.
Jackson welcomed her back in town.
“Thanks. Are you the official welcome wagon?”
“Kind of, but they only trot me out for very important people.”
“I’m flattered.”
“I’m flattered you remember my name.”
“How could I forget? It was listed second in rank to mine everywhere.”
He cut her a glance. The mischievous look confirmed that the boy she once knew and the man before her now were one and the same. His appearance had thrown her off. Her old high school nemesis had looked nothing like this. He’d been good-looking then. Lanky and all limbs, he played basketball. The girls liked him, but “cute” was the word often used to describe him. All that cuteness had burned away in ten years. Jackson was handsome. His youthful cockiness had been honed into confidence. And yet he still had a dimple in his left cheek. The well-trimmed beard didn’t hide it.
“What brings you back to Royal, Alexa?”
“I’m handling a matter for my family.”
That was an excessively watered-down version of the truth. The “matter” was a complex legal issue regarding the family ranch’s oil rights. They were fighting an aggressive claim brought forward by a local rancher. There was no way to drop that casually into conversation, so she’d deliberately kept her answer vague.
“Ever the dutiful daughter.”
“Some things don’t change.”
She was a Lattimore, and Lattimores stuck together even if it drained them of their lifeblood.
Jackson took a good look around the cabana while she got a good look at him. Some things had changed. He had the toned, chiseled body of a professional athlete, but Alexa knew better than most that his best asset was and always would be his sharp mind. Jackson Strom had been the smartest boy in her class. Alexa had been the smartest—period.
“This is a nice setup,” he said.
“I like it.” The canvas-covered hideaway offered a respite from the August heat. At the same time, it offered a full view of the party. If anything important happened, she wouldn’t miss it. Later, she’d have something to report to her mother, some bit of gossip to satisfy and please her, and all would be well. “Join me for a drink?”
“Call me boring,” he said, already uncorking the bottle, “but on a hot day, I prefer a cold beer.”
She squinted and studied him a moment. Who would ever call him boring? Back when they were just kids in school, he had always been the fun, easygoing one who got along with just about everyone. “We could order beer if you like.”
“This’ll do,” he said. “Do you really think I’d pass on the chance to have a drink with Alexandra the First?”
Alexa flinched at the old nickname. Alexandra the First...at everything. Top of the class, best of the best, honorable mention, Dean’s list, on and on. She’d been crowned the class intellectual snob. Like any label, it was unfair and unearned. She’d done nothing to deserve it except excel at everything but track and field. But every high school drama needed a villain, and she’d assumed the role. What was the alternative? Make nice and try to fit in? Never. She was the odd peg that didn’t fit anywhere, not even with her own rock-solid nuclear family. While she read quietly in her room or immersed herself in foreign languages for hours, her siblings got their kicks fishing, hiking, horseback riding and swinging through any and all trees.
“That’s ‘Stuck-Up Queen Alexandra the First,’ mind you,” she said. “I dropped the title and go by Alexa now. It was a mouthful.”
His laugh was rolling thunder. “You were always quick with a comeback.”
“We all have our gifts.”
He lifted the bottle of sparkling wine from the ice bucket and poured and filled two glasses. For a beer drinker, he had the moves of a master sommelier. He handed her a glass. “I spotted you in the lobby, but you breezed by.”
She’d sped by everyone, avoiding eye contact. An attendant had directed her to the reserved cabana, and she’d been hiding out ever since. It didn’t matter that she was an accomplished attorney. Here, she would forever be the odd one out.
“Sorry about that,” she said breezily. “Have a seat.”
He eyed the empty lounge chair next to hers. “Were you expecting anyone?”
“I wasn’t expecting you, that’s for sure.”
Jackson set the bottle in the ice bucket and stretched out his long legs on the lounge chair. He had always moved like that, smooth and unhurried. “You were always good on your own, weren’t you?”
“Not really.”
She hadn’t been a loner by choice. The girl who ranked first in academics often ranked dead last in everything that mattered, such as making friends or finding a date to prom.
He frowned. “Tell me more.”
“Never mind. I’ve worked it all out with my therapist.”
Whatever pedestal she had been placed on during high school, Jackson had been determined to knock her off it. For four years straight, they’d gone head-to-head for every medal, every prize, every scrap of recognition the education system had to offer. He tried his best, but he never outpaced her. But she often wondered why he’d been so intent on ruining her life. Being the best was all she’d had. Without that distinction, she was no one and had nothing to fall back on. It wasn’t like she was going to take up cheerleading or join the glee club.
“You make it sound like it was a hardship. You left us all in the dust.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Honestly? Yeah,” he said. “You were the coolest girl in class. I would’ve killed to be your friend.”
Alexa tossed her head back and laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Excuse me.” She stifled a giggle. “I find that hard to believe.”
He took a long sip from his glass. “What was up with us?”
Now that was a loaded question. “It started sophomore year—”
“No,” he said flatly. “It started way before that.”
They’d been in the same class ever since kindergarten. Their rivalry hadn’t begun in earnest until first semester sophomore year. Jackson had placed second at the local science fair. Usually, a girl named Stephanie Davies placed second in these types of competitions, but she had moved away. That day, Alexa saw Jackson with new eyes. She caught his cocky grin as he raised his smaller trophy over his stupid head. The urge to slap that grin off his face was irresistible.
“I can only speak for myself,” Alexa said. “Our tenth-grade science fair kicked it off for me. I wanted to rip that trophy out of your hands.”
Jackson settled more comfortably and bit into a smile. “Sounds hot. I would’ve liked that.”
Suddenly, Alexa was hot. “Well, when do you think it started?”
“Eighth-grade chess tournament.”
“What?”
“Ms. Thomson’s math-class special project.”
“I remember,” she said, hazy on the details. Their math teacher had organized an in-class chess tournament as an extra-credit activity. Alexa had never played chess before then, but a few quick online tutorials had gotten her up to speed. She’d won, but... “I don’t remember playing you.”
“Not surprised. You wiped me out in twelve moves.”
Maybe it was the heavy August heat or the light sparkling wine, but the past was soup. It took a while before she remembered. “Ah! You left your queen vulnerable. Who does that?”
“Not you, Queen Alexandra.”
“Hmm.” Outside the cocoon of the cabana, the party was picking up. Music and laughter and conversation tangled in a distracting mess. Alexa’s mind went quiet. “It was you, wasn’t it? You started the whole Queen Alexandra the First stuff.”
Jackson took another sip from his glass. “I won’t confirm or deny it.”
“All this because of Ms. Thomson’s extra-credit chess tournament?”
“I’ve wanted to beat you ever since.”
“I’ll take you up whenever.”
Jackson flagged over a poolside attendant with whom he seemed pretty chummy and whom he’d likely bribed to confiscate her order from the bar. Instead of ordering a craft beer, he asked where he might find a chessboard.
“Right here.” The attendant lifted the lid off a wicker basket tucked in a corner. It held a collection of board games, puzzles and toys for kids. “We have chess, checkers, Scrabble...”
“Chess, please.”
He slipped the man a crisp twenty-dollar bill and set up the board on the round cocktail table between them.
Alexa sat up straight. “Are you serious? We’re not playing chess at a pool party.”
“Would you rather play volleyball?”
“I’d rather nap.”
“You’ve got to give me a chance to redeem myself. It’s the only way to save this budding friendship.”
“Fine.” It had been a while since she’d played chess. This might be his lucky day.
He arranged the white pawns nearest her. “Are you really here alone?”
“My siblings will show up at some point.” Caitlyn was prancing about with Dev. Her brothers, Jonathan and Jayden, would swing by eventually.
“That’s not what I meant.” His focus was on the board, lining up the plastic pawns in neat rows. She wasn’t fooled. He was waiting for an answer.
“Are you asking if I’m single?”
He glanced up. “Are you?”
“There’s no ring on my finger.”
“If there had been one, I would have gotten word. Whatever the Lattimores do is news.”
“Only in Royal.”
“Only Royal matters.”
“I beg to differ. There’s a big world out there.”
“And I’ve seen most of it. It doesn’t change the fact that I know where home is.”
She admired his self-awareness. They were about the same age, twenty-eight. Most of their peers were scattered to the winds. But Jackson knew where he belonged, where best to plant roots and grow. She hadn’t yet figured that out.
“And you’re a lawyer in Miami?”
“That’s right.” Alexa took a healthy sip of Prosecco to ease down a ball of anxiety that had formed in her throat. She didn’t want to talk about her job. “I guess everything we Lattimores do really is news.”
“I told you.”
“Is it my mother? Is she boring everyone to death with updates on my so-called adventures?”
“Your brothers, too.”
“Damn it.”
The board was set. He leaned back and folded his arms over his head. “Your move.”
“Okay.” Alexa took a sip of Prosecco. “Are you single?”
A slow smile drew out his lips. “That’s not what I meant, but that’s fine.”
Alexa was burning hot again. Still, she fixed him with a cool gaze. “Just answer the question.”
“I’m single. No rings. No commitments.”
“That’s catchy.” She glanced down at the board and moved a rook. “You should get it in needlepoint.”
Laughing, he reached over and advanced a pawn. “Alexa... I missed you.”
He’d missed her because of her sharp tongue and not despite it. Interesting. What was even more interesting was that she’d missed him, too. It hadn’t occurred to her until now. Alexa had actively erased her high school memories. She did not attend reunions or accept online friendship requests. Finally, she’d done her best to stomp out old flames. He fell into that last category. Like the other girls, she’d found him cute, very cute. He was the only boy to have held her attention—a good thing, too, because none of the others had spared her the time of day. Their rivalry had kept her on her toes. Honestly, it had kept her on the Dean’s list right up until she graduated as valedictorian. It had probably gotten her into her dream school. Even so, Alexa hadn’t thought for a minute that he’d seen her as anything other than a moving target.
“He likes you,” a girl had pointed out one day after English class. Alexa had aced an oral presentation even though Jackson had raised his hand a dozen times to ask questions and poke holes in her argument. “Can’t you tell?” Her classmate had delivered that last bit with a hair flip. The subtext was clear: the smartest girl in school wasn’t necessarily the brightest. Alexa had laughed in her face. Now, though, she wondered. Meanwhile, she captured two of Jackson’s pawns and a rook.
