Page 14 of The Arrangement (Executive Suite Secrets #3)

LIAM ROSE

“Pinball Wizard?”

My stomach roiled and twisted, leaving me grateful that I’d eaten a light lunch. Otherwise, I would have puked it all up by now. Even though this wasn’t a real date, that didn’t mean I wasn’t worried about this night being a complete disaster.

“Yeah. I haven’t lived in the city for long.

Only about six months. I discovered this place by accident.

It’s all vintage. Pinball machines, Skee-ball, and a handful of the old video games like Pac-Man and Donkey Kong.

No tokens or coins. You pay a fee to get in and play as long as you want.

They even have food. Bar food. Pizza, burgers, wings.

Stuff like that.” When I could finally get my mouth to stop running, I held my breath.

Was he going to go for it? Yeah, it wasn’t a romantic date, but it was cool, right?

As kids, Rome and I had played video games until our eyes crossed and our hands cramped up.

After a long enough silence that I feared I would suffocate, Rome turned to me with a smirk lifting the left corner of his mouth. He lightly punched my shoulder. “Apparently, there’s still some hope for you.”

Asshole.

With the date activities approved, I led the way to the front door.

There was another key reason for picking this location.

The noise of the machine and the nature of playing these games meant it was hard to make conversation.

I wouldn’t have to worry about Rome and his nosy questions or having to come up with painful small talk.

For the next two and a half hours, we could eat pizza, drink beer, and play video games.

As soon as the time was up, I’d drive him to where I’d picked him up downtown, and my first-date obligation would be fulfilled.

Inside the building that smelled of popcorn and oregano, I stepped up to the ticket booth and tried hard not to blush when I asked for two adult passes while Rome stood behind me.

To her credit, the heavily tattooed twentysomething didn’t blink an eye as she punched into the computer and I tapped my card on the reader.

She handed us two neon-green paper wristbands and wished us a good time.

Maybe we didn’t look like a gay couple out on a date.

She probably thought we were a pair of friends hanging out. I was freaking out for nothing.

But that was thanks to my mother whispering in my ear for too many years, always worried about what other people thought. Even a thousand miles away, I still couldn’t escape her whispers.

I turned to Rome and tried to hand him his paper bracelet, but he refused to take it. He stuck his hand out and pulled his shirt up his arm, baring his wrist along with his stupidly expensive Breitling watch.

“Put it on me, please,” he requested, and I briefly considered shoving it up his nose.

“Are you going to be like this all night?” I demanded, even as I wrapped it around his wrist, removed the paper backing from the tape, and closed the circle.

Rome’s eyes widened with his grin. “If you’re lucky,” he threatened.

“Jerk,” I muttered, which made Rome snicker.

But all his giggles stopped as we passed through the second door, leading into the giant open room filled with rows of old pinball machines.

Everywhere we looked were flashing colored lights as if we’d walked into a carnival.

Rock music played on hidden speakers just loud enough that you could enjoy it without feeling the need to shout at your companions to be heard.

“Holy shit!” Rome stepped in front of me and threw out his arms like he wanted to hug the entire complex. “Where have you been my entire life? This is freaking amazing!”

I rolled my eyes and followed him as he walked down the aisles, checking out the various pinball machines. Some were newer, but there were others that were truly vintage as they advertised movies that were well over fifty years old.

“You’re here every day, aren’t you? Don’t lie.” Rome flashed me a giddy look before turning his gaze to the games.

“Actually, this is only the third time I’ve been here. Work keeps me busy, and I forget it exists.”

A low scoffing noise escaped Rome. “That’s crazy.

” He stopped at a Star Wars –themed pinball machine.

He settled behind the machine and tested the flipper buttons on the side.

With a giggle, he drew out the plunger and fired the iconic silver ball down the shooter lane.

It bounced off bumpers. Lights flashed and bells rang as the ball zoomed around the board.

Rome tapped the buttons again and again, launching the ball to the top, narrowly avoiding the holes.

But within a couple of minutes, he mistimed a flipper, and the ball disappeared into the hole at the end of the board.

“Oooooh, that was fast,” I mocked. “Have you not played in a while?”

Rome shot me a dirty look. “I’ll have you know this is the first time I’ve ever played pinball. I’ll get better.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, yeah. You talk a big game, but can you back it up? You seem pretty happy to watch me work my magic, but can you play?”

I glanced about and chose the Jaws -themed machine on his right and started playing.

Four minutes later, I was still on my first ball, and my grin spread across my entire face.

Sure, I might have been to this place two other times, but on each visit, I’d spent the better part of three hours playing pinball.

It was a fucking blast. The timing of hitting the button just right to send the ball soaring into a bumper, combined with the frantic bells and lights every time your score flew higher, was a rush that I’d not felt since our childhood when we’d played countless hours of video games.

“Okay, whatever. You’ve had more practice than me,” Rome grumbled as he leaned over to check my score. “I’ll catch up.”

“I’d love to see you try,” I taunted as a cackle left me.

We lost ourselves for the next hour to the pinball machines.

We played a bit where we were and then migrated to other machines, trying to find that perfect spot like a slot-machine junkie searching for that hot one begging to pay out.

Sometimes an entire aisle separated us. Suddenly, I’d look up to find Rome on the machine beside mine.

A handful of other players moved around the games, but the small crowd was to be expected on a Wednesday night.

My first visit had been on a Friday night, and the building had been insanely crowded.

“Hey,” Rome called. “Let’s grab something to eat. Afterward, I’ll challenge you to Skee-ball.”

“In a sec. My ball is still in play,” I muttered.

My so-called date edged closer. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

“Go order something. You’re an adult.”

“But this is a date,” Rome whined in my ear. “You have to go with me.”

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but I didn’t get the chance. Rome stepped even closer and bumped his hip against mine, throwing off my rhythm so that I mistimed the flipper. The silver ball sort of blooped off the end and fell out of play.

“Dick!” I shouted, shoving his shoulder hard.

Rome snickered and caught my wrist, pulling me toward the front of the building, where they’d set up a bar area that served drinks and food. “It’s fine. You weren’t down to your last quarter. Plus, I’m starved. I need to keep up my strength if I’m gonna kick your ass at Skee-ball.”

“You haven’t changed in twenty years. You’re still an annoying little shit,” I complained.

My former friend glanced at me over his shoulder and flashed a broad grin as if he realized exactly how frustrating he was and reveled in it.

At the counter, Rome ordered a medium pepperoni pizza for us to split and a beer, while I requested an unsweetened iced tea.

He whipped out his card before I could even get my wallet out of my pocket.

“Hey!” I growled, lunging to shove his card away from the cashier. “You’re not supposed to pay.”

“You paid to get us in here. I can pay for dinner,” he argued, while moving his arm to keep it out of my reach but still offer the card to the teenager taking our order.

“No! You can’t.”

“Of course I can.” Rome cackled.

“No. You’ll say it doesn’t count.”

The asshole groaned. “It still counts, even if I pay for the pizza.”

The teenage girl giggled and plucked the credit card from Rome’s fingers. “Oh my God, you guys are so cute. Have you been dating long?”

That stopped us cold. Rome recovered first, smiling warmly at the teenager. “We’re not dating. Just old friends. This is our first time hanging out in decades.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” She handed me an empty cup so I could fetch my drink from the dispenser, while her manager pulled Rome’s beer bottle out of the fridge behind the counter. “Snag a table. I’ll bring you the pizza when it’s ready.”

Rome tipped his beer at her and winked. “Thanks.”

I trudged to the big silver container holding the iced tea and poured myself a drink before joining Rome in the booth against the far wall.

We sat in an awkward silence. This was what I’d been attempting to avoid while we were on our “date,” but I guessed it couldn’t be helped.

We needed to eat. It was after eight in the evening, and my lunch had been a turkey sandwich I’d crammed into my mouth while making notes for my next lecture at UC.

“You mentioned you haven’t been in Cincinnati long,” Rome said. His nimble fingers picked at the label on the slender brown bottle in his hands. “Why here?”

“Job,” I replied and was content to leave it at that, but it dawned on me that the entire meal was going to be painful and long if neither of us was willing to talk. Besides, his question had been polite. “And a fresh start.”

Rome huffed a small laugh, his lips moving into almost a grin. “I bet that start is looking a lot less fresh now.”