Game Theory
A Thanksgiving Thursday installment to make up for Monday! Friday coming too — a double treat for your long weekend!
Previously: Everyone goes home for the evening.
Need to catch up on The Spring? Visit the chapter index here:
07:47 AM - Thursday, November 6, 2014
Lower Pacific Heights, San Francisco, CA
Jeannie looked into the full-length mirror in the bedroom while tucking the pearl gray silk blouse into her black trousers. Sighing, she fixed the double-buttons on the waistband. Gray always washed her out, and she knew that no amount of blush or lipstick was going to change the effect.
“You look nice,” Chris said from the doorway, bringing her a freshly-made cappuccino. Jeannie swelled her eyes skeptically in response and gratefully took the cappuccino in both hands.
“Thank you.” She said as he leaned in for a small kiss. “And thank you. I hate this color, but it’s a funeral.”
“It looks good.”
“Really?” She turned slightly to check her back side in the mirror, and took a short sip on her coffee. “The skirt doesn’t fit any more. I’ve gained weight.” She huffed in annoyance. “I had to swap in the trousers — the fabric isn’t quite a match but it will have to do.”
“You have not gained weight.”
“I have. I last wore this suit at Mom’s funeral —” her voice faded.
“Jeannie,” Chris began softly, “you were so thin then. You’re healthy now, you’re fit. And you look amazing.” He moved closer as she checked her back side again.
“My ass would disagree.”
“You let me worry about your ass, okay?” He moved a hand to grip her bottom and she giggled a little.
“Have it your way.”
“I will —” Chris planted a kiss at the base of her neck.
“After today I want to burn this suit.” She said, her flat voice emerging, making Chris meet her eye in the mirror.
“You should. I’ll help you.” He kissed her softly and moved off toward the bathroom, shedding his t-shirt on the floor.
“Hey — “ Jeannie stopped him. Chris turned around and draped a long arm on the door frame, showing off his long, muscled torso, his rumpled pajama bottoms hanging onto his hips and the merest beginnings of a belly. Somehow, every ounce of weight he’d ever gained since his days playing college baseball at Penn seemed to fill him out evenly. He was heftier than he used to be, but the athleticism was still there. “Tell me something.” Chris raised his eyebrows. “Did you learn anything about game theory when you were at Wharton?”
“Of course.” Jeannie cocked her head at him.
“Well, tell me about it.” Chris chuckled a little.
“What do you want to know about game theory? It’s not even 8 am…”
Jeannie sipped her cappuccino. “I want to know why they teach it in business school, like, why do people study it, or…what kind of person studies it?”
“Someone like me. Observant, nuanced, understands people, strong negotiator…Game theory is basically what I do all day long. It’s reading your opponent…or the person on the other side of the table, and knowing their motivations. It’s negotiation…diplomacy: you play your opponent and figure out how they play you. It’s probability and odds - are they more likely to do A or B, or B then A? You play imaginary chess. You’d be good at it.”
“I would? You won’t even teach me poker.”
“Because I know you and I know you’d beat me, so I’m standing in your way of ever entering the game. That’s game theory.” Jeannie looked at him, brows arched, assessing.
“Hmmmm.” Jeannie smiled a little and shrugged her suit jacket on, taking a final gulp from the cappuccino. “Hey, you know — Paco? The guy from the Park Police?”
“Yeah.”
“He used to be a poker dealer at the casino on his reservation in the Central Valley. He’s already volunteered to teach me since you won’t…”
“Hmmmm.” Chris replied, skeptically. “See, game theory would be not telling me that until you got me into a game of poker and then beat me.”
“So game theory is beating someone at their own game?”
“Sometimes.” He smirked a little and offered her a wink as he turned toward the shower stall, shedding his pajama pants. Jeannie watched his muscled frame move into the shower stall and inhaled to stave off her desire to go in and shower with him. You’ve already showered and you need to get going. She turned back to the mirror to adjust her suit once more while the water started in the bathroom.
She’d cried herself out the night before and disguised her puffy dark eyes under a hydrating eye mask followed by an adept dose of concealer. Her shoulders were still stiff from how much she shook all evening, finally falling asleep curled up next to Chris, both of his arms around her.
Waking up in the middle of the night she rolled over to look at his sleeping face on the pillow. The room was new but entirely familiar, the car headlights from Pine Street stroking the ceiling every so often with the streetlight striping the ceiling through the top of the curtains. It had been so long since she’d spent the night there that it felt strange. The only thing that wasn’t strange was Chris’ face: his dark, long lashes, Roman nose, full lips…she kissed him lightly and watched him stir a little as she moved a hand under his t-shirt. Her fingertips moved up his spine and he started awake, opening his eyes, smiling drowsily at seeing her there. All at once they were kissing, then shedding pajamas, and then making love — slowly, sweetly, every move matching the other. They sank into each other and disappeared and reformed, entwined around each other in a deep sleep until the alarm went off at 6:30, when they made love again before the sun lit the room from the edges of the window.
“I have to go — I love you!” She called into the steamy bathroom. Chris opened the shower door and leaned out.
“I love you.” He smiled his most roguish smile, made more so by his wet hair and beads of water on his skin. Jeannie rolled her eyes with a smile and darted away before she got completely distracted.
08:07 AM - Thursday, November 6, 2014
US Park Police Office, Ft Winfield Scott, The Presidio
Mark swung into the parking lot just below the outside stairs of the Park Police office just as his phone began to ring. He saw it was the office number from the DOJ in San Francisco, and moved the SUV into park before answering.
“This is Mark Greenberg.”
“Hi Greenberg — this is Suarez at the DOJ? I just wanted to check in with you about the potential warrant. It looks like it’s the DEA that are interested in Jim Hartman, but the IRS would also be happy to be in on it too. So, this is probably good news for you because obviously a murder charge would put us over the top —”
“I was very clear that we don’t have a murder here, the death of the victim has been proven to be accidental —”
“—yeah, but you did prove that it was drug-related, which is very interesting to the DEA. The tax men apparently have their own thing going, so they find it convenient that everything is happening all at once.”
“Okay, fine, as long as you aren’t expecting a federal murder charge. It’s likely manslaughter. In fact, everyone should hold their expectations — we have no idea what will be in there.”
“Sure. We just need to make it stick. Do you think you have enough to put us over the top on this?”
“We have a few points to clarify today, but I think so. We’d like to keep it clear of the city as I told you.”
“Anything more on that? The SFPD corruption? We’d love to get in there and do an investigation.” Mark paused at this.
“You know — it’s a rumor at this point, we haven’t got anything concrete on that. So maybe put a pin in it for another time? Either way, we want this clean and we want it to stick, so let’s keep the SFPD out of it, right? The girl died on federal land with illicit drugs in her system, drugs which we’ve proven were supplied by Tripp Hartman at a party at the Hartman residence. We don’t even need them involved.”
“They’re gonna be pissed if they aren’t —”
“—I don’t care. Let’s keep this in the family.”
like that ending line (as i just finished watching the godfather 😂)