Call My Bluff: A Las Vegas Themed Anthology

by Elizabeth Knox

  It’s crazy how fifteen years flashes by in the blink of an eye. Now here I am, barely able to recognize the woman in the mirror. All that time ago I had jet black hair with the deepest sea green eyes anyone could ever envision. I should’ve realized the night I met Father how everything would change. How I’d turn into someone else completely.

  And I have. My hair is now black at the roots with snow white locks underneath, spanning down to my shoulders. My eyes have been treated and are now a permanent stone gray. Meanwhile, he recommended I get a little work done. He said it would keep me from getting caught but I’m certain he wanted something nicer to look at. So, my nose has been straightened and my cheekbones are more defined than they ever have been. Fillers were even injected into my lips a couple weeks back.

  I don’t feel like Lola Wynn. I feel like a woman playing his game, on the search to find Father’s next mark. I laugh to myself lowly in my brand new apartment he’s secured for me. It’s nestled right in the city, only a few blocks away from the strip.

  It’s hard to believe I was a seventeen-year-old when he took me in. Now I’m here, stuck in this powerplay of cards, never thinking I’ll be able to get out. There’s a saying when you’re one of Father’s children. You play the game for as long as you can, until the dominoes fall and there’s a bullet in your skull. It’s also a superbly fucked up rhyme, but as it insinuates, there will never be any way out.

  Two weeks ago I was told who my next mark would be. Alec Rosseau. He’s one of the most famous artists across the globe. Holding gallery shows in Sydney, New York, London, Los Angeles, Moscow and he’s preparing for one here in Las Vegas in two-months’ time. He’s well known for his abstract pieces, although it’s rumored his new work is going to be something we’ve never witnessed him create— contemporary.

  I’m sitting at my dining room table, overlooking the file Father’s secretary, Taneesha, handed me before I left. She has the task of putting every spec of accurate information we can find on a mark in a folder like this, ensuring we know practically everything about them before we send one of our people into the field. Considering the last time I got away with the amount I did, he felt I’d be the one best suited for the job. I’ve had experience mingling with the upper class, specifically in this area so I’m confident I can lasso the man into giving me exactly what we want.

  We . . . I say it like I want it too. Taking a deep breath, I head over to the small wine fridge and pull out a bottle of red, pop the cork and pour myself a hefty glass. Sipping on it slowly I contemplate running, getting out of this life, but I know it’s no use. He’ll hire the Arcane and they’ll hunt down those who betray him like they always do. The Arcane are a hit-for-hire service. To sum it up, they’re assassins.

  I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear the deadbolt turning. Immediately my nerves are shot and I’m wondering who is coming through the other side of the door. It opens and I have my hand on my .22 caliber handgun, glad I put the suppressor on it earlier today. I have absolutely no problem gunning down anyone who threatens my mission. Because at the end of the day we know if I don’t follow through, I’ll be the one put in the ground.

  The moment her eyes meet mine I’m immediately fueled with rage. “What are you doing here?” I bark.

  “Sweetheart, calm down. Daddy dearest thought you might need some backup, so he sent your sisters to help.” Fleur states, shoving Nadia out of the way.

  While I don’t mind Fleur and her smartass remarks, Nadia is . . . something else. She’s the type who always thinks she’s right, even if she isn’t. Plus, she’s a ‘my way or the highway’ kinda gal.

  “I should’ve known he had something up his sleeve. A three-bedroom apartment all too myself was too good to be true,” I grumble, a bit sad I won’t be able to get some peace and quiet.

  Nadia walks right past me, rolling her suitcase along with her and goes to the dining room table where the binder on Alec is sprawled open. I’ve been able to get the basics about him, but I haven’t gone in depth yet.

  Fleur even heads past me, leaving the front door to our apartment wide open. Huffing, I walk up to it, shut it and lock the door before turning back to face the girls. Fleur is drinking straight from the bottle while Nadia is giving her a death stare.

  Jesus. This is going to be one long job. “Oh, don’t give me that look. Hell, you wanna sip, Nads? You need it.” Fleur offers the bottle to Nadia, calling her a nickname she loathes more than anything.

  Nadia rolls her eyes, “Of course not. We should be working, not drinking. We start tonight,”

  “What?” I ask, looking to both of the ladies.

  Fleur chuckles, “Why do you think I’m drinking? It’s called pre-gaming and everyone does it these days. Alec is a keynote speaker at the mixer tonight. Do you think he’ll take anything seriously if we’re sober as can be?”

  Oddly enough Nadia looks directly at me. “Since Fleur is determined to be the party animal of the pack it looks like it’s on you and me. Father sent us out here to support your work. We both know our place and how you’re taking lead. It looks like right here Alec has a type, for snow white blondes.”

  “Great. I need to finish reading up on that if you don’t mind.” I say to Nadia.

  She nods, scooting the binder across the table to me. “Perfect. I’m going to get unpacked and then we can all discuss how we’re going to run our con.”

  “Sounds good,” Well, this went better than I thought it would.

  Chapter Three

  When things change inside you. Things change around you

  ~ Unknown

  Lola

  Both Nadia and Fleur took the last couple hours to put away their things and get ready for the mixer we’re going to tonight. Nadia came out of her bedroom first and I handed her the binder before I took a shower, did my hair and put on a decent bit of makeup with an intense smokey eye. I even decided to go the extra mile and apply a deep matte red lipstick. Everything combined with my gold dress and I don’t think Alec won’t be able to notice me.

  Nadia’s wearing her signature black with her hair in a wavy style, spanning down her back. Her makeup is light, but somewhat noticeable. Fleur on the other hand barely did a damn thing to her hair, but she has naturally straight locks with almost never having a strand out of place. It’s dark brown at the top and about half-way down turns into a gold blonde.

  Each of us look a bit different. Fleur is the woman men drool over because she has curves for days and knows how to accentuate them. She always wears things tight around the hips, kind of like her clothes form to her body in an hourglass shape. Meanwhile, Nadia is the typical thin girl with an athletic body type. I on the other hand am not skinny, but I’m not overweight either. I’m a size eight and comfortably here. Nadia could be a four and Fleur is a size fourteen.

  If I was into chicks I’d say Fleur would be my type. She’s the type of woman who’s beautiful beyond measure and you’d automatically know she could rip into a whole pie on the couch with you. Tonight, I’m digging her look. She has a black pencil skirt that goes from her mid-waist to her knees, black pumps and a mesh long sleeve top. I can see her black lace bra underneath it, but it adds to her look even more.

  “Alright, do we have a plan on how this is going down?” Fleur asks.

  Nadia huffs, immediately rolling her eyes. “When have you ever known me to not have a plan?”

  “I only asked to screw with you. Relax, babe. When have we ever failed?” Fleur is right, however the three of us have never gone after a mark together.

  We all grab our purses and exit the apartment. Heading down to the end of the hall we take the elevator to the parking garage below the complex and walk up to my Lexus LX. The mixer tonight is about a ten-minute drive further into the city at a coffee shop/bar that doubles as an art gallery for up and comers. Every artist has two pieces in the entire shop, able to be purchased by everyday patrons.

  It takes us a little longer to get there than I anticipated
, but we luck out and get a parking spot directly across the street from the shop. The three of us get out of my SUV, I lock the doors and we head across the street and stand in line on the black carpet. A man in a full suit stands at the entrance. It’s obvious he’s the bouncer since he’s tall, has large arms and the signature shades so he can look at everyone in line.

  While it took us longer than we thought, we ended up arriving right before the doors opened which is the great part. It means we’ll be some of the first people to get inside.

  The girls and I decided to spin the sister ploy. I’ve used it with other women who work with Father before. A few years ago I was on a job in Ontario and Cynthia, one of the newer girls portrayed my younger sister. She was able to keep my mark’s brother occupied while I went in and completed the job. Afterward we both fled our separate ways and avoided one another as our protocol states.

  We’ve agreed that we all have the same father but different mothers, which is ironic yet true in a way. Nadia is the oldest and is using the name Priyanka after her favorite actress, Priyanka Chopra. Fleur is the middle and is using the name Ashlynn. Meanwhile, I’ve decided to use the name Tamara, after one of the most notable female painters. I’m hopeful when Alec and I are introduced he’ll see the connection and ask me about it.

  The bouncer allows us entry into the coffee shop and the three of us immediately head up to the bar. We’ve realized after doing this job for years how a drink in our hand can make us seem less domineering.

  I stick to my usual glass of red wine since it barely has any effect on me while the other two both grab a glass of white. We stroll alongside one another around the gallery taking in the many different styles of art. There’s a broad mixture of abstract, contemporary, and realism. With each painting I can see how it varies from oil, acrylic, watercolor, and even spray paints. During the mere twenty-minutes I’ve been here I can already tell how talented these new artists are.

  “He’s staring right at you,” Fleur whispers lowly, motioning with her eyes for me to take a gander.

  I cock my head back and look right at him. Alec is . . . ridiculously handsome. Within one instant I can tell this man is a womanizer who gets anything he wants in life. He’s wearing a perfectly fitted navy blue suit with a white dress shirt underneath. I’d put all my money on the likelihood of it being made of some extravagant silk. He doesn’t wear a watch like most men in this lifestyle do, but I notice some sort of beaded bracelet on his left wrist. Whenever I get close to him I’ll have to ask about its origin.

  His eyes meet with mine and I smirk in a sinful way, fluttering my eyelashes and return my eyes to the painting in front of me. It’s filled with oranges, pinks, and reds. Scattered across the canvas I can tell it’s watercolor based on the lines and it speaks to me in a way that reflects a flower.

  “He’s headed this way,” Nadia states, walking off. More times than I can count if there are too many people around us, our mark will get scattered and run off. Alec Rosseau doesn’t seem the type to give up on his conquests.

  I look next to me and Fleur’s wine glass is empty, giving her a reason to walk away as well. She places her hand on my shoulder, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Need a refill,” She winks at the end and beside me I sense the strong odor of cologne.

  “You’re supposed to be the speaker tonight, are you not?” I ask, keeping my eyes trained on the painting before me.

  “Yes, I am. It appears you already know my name. May I have the pleasure of learning yours?” I’m a little caught off guard when a slight French accent slips out. Now it seems a little easier to understand how he gets what he wants in life.

  “Shouldn’t you be worried about practicing your speech instead of flirting with patrons?” I ask, cocking a brow before I look at him.

  He’s caught off guard at my sassiness and chuckles, extending a hand. “The night has just started and I’ve already found someone much more interesting to talk to than the schmucks who fill the room.”

  “Schmucks? You must not have any respect for those who’re trying to put themselves out there.”

  He presses his lips together and dips his hands in his pockets. “If they were serious, they’d enroll in my school. I’ve offered half of them full scholarships and only three have accepted. The rest say they need to think about it. Who in the world would need to think about enriching their life, about accepting a free college stay at the best art school in the United States?”

  “Things aren’t always so simple,” I say, allowing my personal feelings to slip out.

  “What do you mean . . . Miss?”

  “Tamara. Tamara Dare to be exact.”

  Alec grins widely, “Tamara. Such a beautiful name. Anything to do with Tamara de Lempicka?”

  “Yes. She was my mother’s favorite artist and who I was named after. But before we get sidetracked allow me to finish. The students who haven’t accepted your scholarship may have something else going on in their lives. Something which would make them afraid to leave their homes.”

  “Like what?”

  “Mmm, do you know anything about their personal lives? Do any of them have children, or sick parents, or those who depend on them? Accepting the opportunity you’re giving them wouldn’t be so simple if that was the case.”

  Alec nods, “Very true, Miss Dare.”

  A woman tapping her knife on a champagne flute causes everyone in the room to divert their attention to her. “Thank you all for coming here tonight. We’re so excited to have the Alec Rosseau as our keynote speaker. If he’s ready I think we can all get started and look forward to hearing from him.”

  “It’s my cue to leave, Miss Dare. However, I do hope you and I can chat after.” Alec leaves and walks up to the small stage.

  Everything is going according to plan.

  Chapter Four

  The only man who never makes a mistake is the man who never does anything

  ~ Theodore Roosevelt

  Declan

  Standing against the brick wall I have my eyes pinned on her like she’s an endangered species. It’s hard to believe she looks this way, like every other woman in this city. She’s wearing a short dress. It’s gold with sparkles and stops a couple inches below her ass. Damn, she wouldn’t even wear that kinda stuff when she was engaged to me. But I forget she was playing the part of a good Christian woman from a small town in South Dakota.

  Two women were hanging out with her for a while until they both went their separate ways. My first thought is that they were in on whatever she’s up to, but then I realized they’re probably innocents in all of this too.

  Back when we were engaged Charli— wait. I should call her Lola now that I know her real name. Anyways, back when I was engaged to her she had made new friends under her false identity. They were as much in the dark as I was. When she left, taking my money and everything I held dear to me, they were shocked. I remember how her best friend Abbey thought this was some big misunderstanding.

  They met out in a club four months or so before Lola and I started dating. Dating, pfft. What I should say is before she started conning my ass. She had everyone fooled. Everyone she ever ran into.

  Staring at her from across the room I want nothing more than to run over and wrap my hands around her scrawny little chicken neck. The only thing that’s keeping me from giving into my anger is the fact she doesn’t know what I do. She has no idea I know she’s undergone plastic surgery. She also has no idea I know her real name, that I’m onto her, or what I have planned.

  Alec went up and chatted with her for a bit and in that moment, I think I realized who she’s going after next— him. Sure, there are a couple other guys in this room, but no one else who has his net worth.

  Lola stayed and watched Alec’s speech for the first ten minutes or so and I watched it happen like I was a customer in the movie theater. Alec’s eyes drifted over to her, she stared at him and walked directly out of the shop. Meanwhile, the two women she was with stayed inside.
>
  They must be innocents. If they were in this together, they would’ve all left at the same time.

  I work my way through the crowd until I’m out of the store. I step out onto the sidewalk and look both ways until the sound of heels clicking against the pavement signal me to head right. I don’t know why, but I follow her, and I keep following her.

  I had a plan. One that would’ve caught her off guard, but it went out the window the moment she left the party.

  I keep on after her ensuring to keep a safe distance away so I’m sure not to spook her. Everything is going great until I’m caught behind a traffic light. She was able to walk forward and by the time the white crosswalk sign comes back on she’s nowhere to be seen.

  “Hey stranger,” a pair of familiar arms wrap around me and I look down to see short stack, also known as Abbey. She’s maybe 5’1 and a hundred-thirty pounds soaking wet. “What’re you doing out this way? Back on the dating scene?” Abbey wiggles her eyebrows and laughs.

  “No, never. I’m the scarred for life type, short stack.” Calling her the nickname I gave her ten years ago.

  “You’re still sticking to one-night stands after all this time?” She questions, looking disappointed. Or maybe she just feels sorry for me.

  “Yeah, can you blame me?”

  Abbey is quiet for a minute but shakes her head before she speaks, “No I couldn’t blame you in the least bit. If the shoe was on the other foot, I’d have the same problem. I don’t think I’d ever be able to love again.”

  I nod. Abbey understands my feelings exactly. There is no easy way to give trust or hand over your heart after someone you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with betrays you in such a way. “So, what’re you doing down here?” She asks, and I look around one last time before I accept defeat.

  Lola might’ve been able to get away from me this time, but next time she won’t be so lucky. Next time I’ll make sure I confront her. A flashing neon sign indicating the bar next door is open is a sure fine signal Abbey and I need to go get a drink. “I’ll buy you a drink and tell you everything I know.” I say, grabbing her hand I don’t give her much of a choice.