She couldn’t get back home fast enough. The sooner she put this night behind her, the happier she’d be.
Not that she’d be able to sleep after Constantine’s proposition. The disgusting creep.
She was reading while the party raged downstairs when she heard a soft knock on her door.
“Who is it?”
Derrick called, “You came upstairs without saying good-night.”
She’d seen him once after the incident with Constantine. He’d been across the room, dripping rainwater and talking to someone she hadn’t met. He’d laughed as if his walk in the rain had been a lark.
He hadn’t noticed her, and she hadn’t gone to him.
Now, she crossed the room and moved the suitcase to open the door. He stood on the other side in his green shirt and khakis. At least they were dry. He looked… defeated. “You all right?”
He stepped past her and sat on the end of her bed. He was silent a moment too long. When he spoke, his words were measured. “I just need to ask you…”
When his voice trailed off, she cocked her head to the side. “What?”
“Did you think of me at all when you told Jenny she should leave?”
“Oh.” She hadn’t. She didn’t realize Derrick knew anything about that. She closed the bedroom door and stood in front of him. “What did Constantine tell you?”
Derrick swallowed, and his lips flattened. He took a deep breath. “He said you talked Jenny into leaving him, and she did. He was laughing when he said it, like it was all so funny, so we all laughed with him. But I could tell by the way he looked at me… He didn’t think it was funny. And he blames you.”
“It’s not my fault he treats his girlfriend like dirt.”
“So you did tell her—?”
“I suggested that he’d never respect her if she didn’t respect herself.”
Derrick smoothed the bedspread, nodded slowly.
She thought about telling him about Constantine’s proposition. Maybe he’d be angry. Maybe he’d be indignant that the man would dare. But she feared there’d be a little spark of something else in his response. Hope, maybe. As if he wouldn’t mind trading her for a solution to all his troubles.
She kept her conversation with Constantine to herself. Her opinion of Derrick had fallen enough this weekend. The wrong reaction from him would make that opinion plummet beyond repair. Besides, she had something more pressing to say.
“What were you and Keith arguing about?”
He blinked, looked up, then back at the blankets. “Nothing, really. Nothing important.”
“Looked important from where I stood.”
He met her gaze with narrowed eyes. “Where was that? Were you listening?”
“I was on the stairs. I saw you guys through the windows. Why? Was it something you wouldn’t want me to hear?”
“I’m managing it.”
“Managing what? Are you involved in something illegal? Because if you are—”
“It’s nothing like that.”
“I can’t be involved with you if you’re doing something illegal. No way.”
“It’s nothing to worry about.” He reached forward, took her hands, and looked up at her. “I promise. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“But he’s a detective. What else—?”
“He does some work for a guy on the side.”
“What kind of work?”
Derrick sighed, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. “It’s a long story.”
“I have nowhere to go.”
He slid the glasses back on. “I owe some money to this guy, and Keith works for him.”
“You owe money… like, to a banker?”
“Not exactly.”
And then she got it. She jerked her hands free, paced toward the bathroom, and turned. “A bookie?”
“No. Sort of.” The slump of his shoulders told her much more than his words could. “I didn’t want you to find out. I’m trying to fix it.”
“How much?”
He shrugged. “A lot.”
“Are we talking hundreds or thousands?”
He stood and stepped toward her. “It’s not your problem, Harper.”
The pieces were falling into place. All the trips to Vegas. This summer, Red had gotten sick, and she’d called Derrick and told him not to come up for the weekend. He’d gone to Atlantic City instead.
He’d been back a number of times. He said he had clients there he had to visit. But maybe he’d only gone to gamble. And then there was the poker game the night before.
The truth held her in place like lead shoes. “You’re addicted.”
“Not addicted. Not like that.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I can fix it. You have no idea how good I am at poker. I’m the luckiest guy you’ve ever met.” He offered his charming smile. “Obviously I’m lucky. I won you, didn’t I?”
She wasn’t stupid enough to fall for that. She crossed her arms and waited.
He sighed. “I’m working on it.”
Right. He had it under control. He could get a handle on it. It wasn’t a problem.
She’d been there before. She’d seen addiction. She wasn’t going back to that circus. No way. “That’s what this weekend was about, trying to get more business so you can pay off your gambling debts.”
His mouth closed, tightened. He said nothing
She crossed the room and pulled back the curtains to stare at the darkness outside. To think. Waves smashed against the sand as if they had a grudge. The murmur of voices and laughter from the party filtered up through the floor and added to the loneliness infecting her like a virus. Because Derrick was with her. But his heart didn’t belong to her.
It belonged to gambling.
How pathetic, for both of them.
At least now she knew Derrick’s troubles. The reason he’d seemed desperate all weekend was because he was desperate.
Constantine knew about it. Keith knew. Who else? Did everybody know but Harper? Had they all been feeling sorry for her? Because she had such lousy taste in men. She’d been so proud, trying to help Jenny, when she should have been taking her own advice. They probably thought Harper was a fool. Why did she always do this, let herself believe?
At least she hadn’t slept with him.
She let the curtain fall and turned. “How much?”
“I’m going to have to ask Gramps for the money. I was trying to avoid it, but I don’t see that I have any choice now.”
“How much?”
“A lot, okay?” His voice rose in volume and pitch—anger and embarrassment. “A lot.”
“And then last night… Was that a friendly game of poker, like you said? Or was it high-stakes?”
He met her eyes. “It started friendly.” And then his gaze slid away.
“And you went deeper into debt.”
He said nothing, just stared at the floor.
“Do you owe money to anyone downstairs?”
“I paid Carter off. I had a little in my account.”
She sat on the side of the bed. She felt sorry for him, she did. Except that he’d lied to her all along.
He circled the bed and sat beside her. His arm slid around her back.
She had to force herself not to pull away.
He hung his head. “I’ll get help. I’ll start going to those stupid meetings. Maybe do the twelve-step program.”
She nodded, stared at the gauzy curtains, imagined the beach outside. If only she could sail away, avoid all of this.
He turned to her, and she forced herself to return the gaze. Everything about his expression said trust me. Round face, warm brown eyes, nerdy glasses. He dressed impeccably and had a good job. He’d been kind, treated her with respect. But he couldn’t be trusted.
“I’m going to fix this,” he said. “I’ve gotten myself into a mess before, and I’ve always managed to get myself out. But without you… Please, don’t leave me.” He took her hands and squeezed. “I need you, Harpe
r.”
“I can’t be involved in anything illegal.”
“You’re not. You won’t be. I’ll get myself together. You and me, we’ll be strong together. Promise me you won’t let this come between us.”
“You’ve let it come between us. All weekend, it’s come between us. For weeks, it’s come between us.”
He nodded along with her words. “You’re right. I didn’t know how to tell you, but now I have. Now, we can be a team. You can help me with this, the way I helped you with the job for Gramps.”
Wait, what? What was he suggesting, some sort of quid pro quo?
Her feelings must’ve shown on her face, because he said, “Not like that. Not like you owe me. I’m just saying, I trusted you, despite your past, because I knew you. I know you. And you know me. You know I’d never hurt you. You know I care for you. Yes, I have a problem, and I need to fix it. But I’m more than just a gambler.” He released her hands and brushed her hair away from her face. “I’m a good guy, Harper. You know this about me.”
“I know. You are.”
He leaned closer. “I have a good job, a solid future.”
She smiled. “I don’t care about that.”
“I know. That’s one of the reasons I love you.”
“Oh.” He’d never said that to her before. He’d told her he needed her. She knew he wanted her. But love?
“You don’t have to say it back.” He rested his palm against her cheek. “You’re not ready. It’s okay. But just know, despite all the stupid stuff I’ve done this weekend, I love you. My love for you is the best thing about me.”
Love? Was that what this was? Wasn’t love supposed to be honest, selfless?
“You’re not there yet.” He traced her hairline with the tip of his finger. “It’s okay. I’m willing to wait for you as long as it takes.”
He leaned in and kissed her, slowly at first, then with a passion she couldn’t resist. He lowered her to the bed, never releasing her from the kiss.
It would have been so easy to let it happen. He loved her. He’d said so. And look at all he’d done for her.
But he had a problem, a serious problem.
And she wouldn’t be a fool again.
She pushed him away. “No. I’m not—”
“Please. Please don’t send me away.”
“I can’t do this.”
“You can. It’ll be different with me.” His hands roved and roamed, and she squirmed, tried to keep them in safe places. “Come on. You can trust me.”
Could she? He’d kept his addiction from her. He’d kept the truth about his debt from her. Which proved she couldn’t trust him.
“No.”
He dropped his face to her shoulder. “Please. Don’t send me away.”
“Go to bed, Derrick.”
He stood and stared down at her. “To bed?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “You think I can sleep now?”
“I’m sorry. I just—”
“Whatever.” He yanked the door open, stepped into the hall, and slammed it behind him.
She listened to his footfalls until they faded. Then, she crossed the room and leaned her suitcase against the door again. To heck with Derrick. With Constantine. With Carter. If the suitcase fell, she’d scream her head off.
Chapter Seventeen
Harper woke to sun streaming in through the curtains. She pulled them back and gazed out at the morning. Amazing what a difference a few hours could make. The blue of the sky was broken up by a few big, puffy clouds. There were already families and joggers on the beach. Although the weather was lovely, waves still pummeled the shore.
She dressed in a T-shirt and shorts and slipped out the patio door before anybody saw her. Even though the weather was tranquil and the people cheerful, she couldn’t settle her thoughts. She wanted to regret coming on this trip, but she couldn’t quite get there. She was glad to have met Russell and Betts. Their marriage was so filled with peace. Like Red, they were content. But what was special about them was that they were happy together. At peace together.
Could she ever find that with a man?
The question was so foolish, she scoffed. She’d come on this trip to find out what Derrick was hiding. Well, now she knew.
Every man she’d ever trusted had let her down. Her first serious boyfriend had hired her for his show in Vegas and had fired her when she’d broken up with him. Her second boyfriend had landed her in prison. Derrick had kept his gambling addiction from her. Then there were all the other men she’d met along the way, the drunk, drooling, disgusting men who frequented the club where she had worked. Men like Constantine, who treated her like a shiny toy in a storefront, available for purchase for the right price.
She wanted the sea breeze to carry the next thought away, but there it was. Even her father had failed her. He’d raised her in the church, taught her right from wrong. He’d thrown around words like love and grace and mercy all her life. But when she’d chosen wrong and ended up in prison, he’d rejected her. Don’t call here again.
Men like Russell, men like Red… They might be out there, but they were taken or too old. Definitely too scarce. She’d never met a man like that who was her age, available, and attracted to her, and based on her track record—and her baggage—she never would.
Which left her with men like Derrick.
It wasn’t his addiction that bothered her. Yes, that was an issue. Living in Vegas, she’d seen the effects of a gambling addiction. Formerly successful people reduced to poverty and, often, homelessness. People whose blind hope that the next game would be the game that saved them from all their troubles. She’d seen panhandlers take their meager funds into casinos, certain this would be the day for their big score.
She’d also known and heard of plenty of people who’d overcome the addiction. If Derrick were willing, he could overcome it, too. But the fact that he’d lied about it said a lot about where he stood. So did the fact that he thought Harper could rescue him.
She knew better than to think she could pull him from the deep water. She was barely surviving herself. Derrick might just take them both down.
She was nearing the house, hoping Derrick was awake so they could head back to Red’s, when she heard people on the porch. With the bright sun beating down on her, she could barely make out who was there. When she heard Derrick’s voice, she paused.
“Look.” The pitch was too high, too eager. “I know it looked bad this weekend. I’ve just hit a rough patch. But that doesn’t affect—”
“I’m sorry.” Russell, so calm and steady. “Not forever. Just until you grow up a little, settle into your success.”
Harper stepped around the corner of the house and out of their line of sight. She shouldn’t eavesdrop. On the other hand, maybe this was her only opportunity to find out what was really going on.
Derrick said, “I’d never gamble with your money.”
“I believe that,” Russell said, “but when people dig themselves into holes, they do things they wouldn’t otherwise do. And from what I overheard last night, you’re in deep.”
Overheard? Had he heard the conversation between Derrick and her? No, probably not. So maybe he’d overheard the conversation between Derrick and Keith on the porch. Maybe he knew more than Harper did.
“None of that affects the kind of stockbroker I am. I’m good at what I do.”
“One of the best I’ve ever worked with,” Russell said. “But when I give someone access to my money, I need to know I can trust them. Unfortunately, after your behavior last night, I don’t trust you anymore.”
“It was just one game!”
A cloud drifted in front of the sun. Harper peeked around the corner and saw inside the screened-in porch. Derrick was seated on one of the chairs, his head rolled forward. Russell stood beside him, his hand on Derrick’s shoulder.
“Here’s the thing,” Russell said. “This is not the end for you. You need to get yourself together, keep working hard, and quit gamblin
g. Go to Gamblers Anonymous and seek that higher power they talk about. In fact, do more than that. Seek God, the only real God. He can help you overcome this. If you ever have any questions about God, don’t hesitate to call me.”
Derrick might have said something, but she didn’t hear it.
Russell walked into the house and closed the slider behind him.
At that moment, Derrick looked up. His gaze locked with hers.
She took a few steps toward him but froze at the expression on his face. Despair mixed with pure fury.
After a deep breath, she stepped inside the porch and sat beside him.
“I guess you heard everything?”
“Just the end.”
“Not only did I not get Constantine as a client, I lost Russell’s business.”
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded slowly, staring beyond her. “I guess none of it matters to you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You cost me my shot with Constantine.”
She sighed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It never crossed my mind that Jenny would tell him I’d told her to leave. I didn’t. I just told her to stand up for herself.”
“Whether you meant it or not…” His voice trailed off. “And then last night, after you kicked me out, I went back downstairs.”
“And played poker,” she guessed.
He said nothing, which was as much of an admission as anything.
“And lost big,” she said.
He shrugged.
“And you blame me.”
His gaze snapped to hers. “If you’d let me stay—”
“You don’t get to blame me for your bad choices, Derrick. You could have gone to bed. You should have.”
“I was too keyed up.”
“You could have gone for a walk. You could’ve read a book. You could’ve gone back downstairs and not gambled. You could’ve done a lot of things besides play poker.”
“I know that.” He raked his hands through his hair. “Don’t you think I’ve gone over all the things I could have done differently? Don’t you think I regret it enough? Thanks for piling on.”
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