He wasn’t quite as convinced, but he took her word for it. The chair, really a stool with a back on it, was surprisingly comfortable. The seat was thick and contoured to conform to one’s bottom. “Who made these?” He could tell they hadn’t been manufactured somewhere. Now that he was close and actually sitting in the chair, he could see the work was excellent. Someone had put a great deal of time and love into handcrafting the set for Hannah.
“His name was Pheldman. Casey Pheldman. He passed away a few years ago.”
“He owned the house I bought,” Player said. He didn’t bother to keep the admiration out of his voice. “I was so impressed with the craftsmanship. I haven’t seen that kind of work very often. I really wish I could have met him. He was truly a gifted man.”
“Yes, he was.” Hannah’s smile was much more genuine. “Would you care for coffee or tea while we talk?” She indicated a little teapot and coffee press. “No worries if you’re in a hurry. I can make it very quickly.”
“Coffee, then. Black.”
He watched, fascinated, as she waved her hand toward the two pots and both seemed to start steaming at once. He frowned, looking around to see if there was a button she’d pushed.
“Now tell me about your Zyah. What do you think makes her so special?”
There was more than one person in his club who could use their voice to compel others to do as they wished. Player was one of them. His talent was subtle, not at all like Absinthe’s or Master’s or Maestro’s, but he could still persuade others when he wanted something. Hannah was a force to be reckoned with. Player felt the need to answer her, and he knew she wasn’t deliberately using her talent on him.
Player found himself wanting Hannah to know, mostly because he felt that the woman was gentle and kind. She wasn’t the type to hurt anyone on purpose, ever. She was asking him because she genuinely wanted to help him—if he deserved it. He knew she was asking questions partially to make certain he wasn’t a man who had in any way deliberately hurt his woman.
“Before I tell you about Zyah, I’m going to let you know right up front, she’s nothing like me. I don’t in any way deserve her. I don’t. I never will. Still, she’s the one, the only one for me, and I’ll work every damn day of my life to make her happy. It’s just that, if you’re going to try to work out whether you think I’m a good man, I’ll tell you I try to be. That I have a code I live by, but I fail more than I win.”
She poured coffee into a mug. “That’s refreshing to hear. The truth. You must really love this woman.”
“I don’t know what love is. I never had it. I want to know. When I’m with her, I feel things I don’t feel for anyone else. I’d do anything for her. Anything. She’s magic. She can take away demons with her laughter. Her smile. She doesn’t judge people. She’s like her grandmother in that way. She just accepts others. That doesn’t make her a pushover. If that were the case, I wouldn’t be in trouble.” He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering why he was blurting out things to this woman he wouldn’t say so readily to a stranger. In fact, he wouldn’t be talking like this to a stranger. He took a sip of the coffee. It was excellent. More than excellent.
Those blue eyes moved over his face. She had feminine eyes, not at all like Czar’s eyes, yet Player felt she saw in the same way he did, beyond skin and bones into one’s black soul.
“You do carry demons, Player. They sit very heavy on your shoulders. I’m glad she takes them off for you. What did you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”
He’d been afraid she would. He took a deep breath. This was the part he knew he’d have to man up for. He looked around the store. It would definitely appeal to women—and evidently did to Preacher as well. He had gathered up several items and taken them to the counter, where he was smelling them and putting them aside only to pick up others to do the same thing. Some he tore the packaging off, demanding to know the ingredients from the horrified clerk.
Player suppressed a groan. Preacher was going to get them kicked out of the shop before he could get what he needed, because he had the feeling Hannah could give him exactly the right gift to help him win back Zyah.
“I was overtired, too long without sleep. I wasn’t doing well. I’d just met her and thought she was a dream. The best kind of a dream, but still a dream.” He shook his head. “The things I said to her were insulting. Very insulting. I apologized, and she accepted. She’s like that. But then . . .” He sighed. “We were so connected and she saw things about me I didn’t want her to see. I was too embarrassed. It shouldn’t have mattered. I just kept pushing her away. I can spend a lifetime apologizing, but actions speak much louder than words. I want to be that man of action, but I don’t have a lot of experience when it comes to relationships. Neither do my friends. We’re sort of winging it. I can’t afford to do that with her. I don’t want to make any more mistakes. I really hurt her. She fuckin’ cried.”