by JA Huss
"When I took her into the bar, we watched the Buzz Hollywood interview with, what’s her name? The soon-to-be mother of your child? Jackie, Jacey, Jennifer—"
"Jasinda."
"Right, right. My Grace was very upset. And she was a little bit drunk at the time. She mentioned an NDA—"
Fuck.
Li laughs. "And then she mentioned so much more." He shoots me a smile. "So, since you are an avid game player, let’s play." His jovial nature disappears and a ruthless businessman takes over. His smile drops into a straight line, his face becomes passive, and he builds superiority with a squaring of his shoulders and a raising of his chin. "You do not deserve any woman, let alone her. So if you lose, I steal her away with an offer that will change her life, I call up Buzz Hollywood and repeat everything she told me, and I take your money."
My heart rate increases as I realize what he’s doing. "And if I win?"
"If you win you keep my money, you keep your girl, you keep your secrets, and I will make sure she is safe and accounted for until you arrive to beg her forgiveness for being an asshole." He glares at me through squinting eyes. "Women are not chips, Asher. Love is not a game. You think money buys everything but you’re wrong. Your money can’t buy love and that girl deserves love."
"Do you know who she is?"
"I know everyone in this room."
I can’t tell if that means he knows her hidden past or if he’s completed the cursory background check that I did before I asked Felicity to dig deeper.
"Is it a bet?"
I clench my jaw as the words come out. "It’s a bet."
Li looks over at the dealer and nods.
"No more bets," the dark-haired woman says as she waves her arm across the table to signal the start of the game.
She deals out the cards, one for the player, which is Li, and one for the bank, where my bet is placed. Li has a ten of clubs, which is zero points in baccarat. The bank gets a nine and a ten, which is a nine, since tens and above are worth zero. Nine is the highest score you can get.
"Bank wins," the dealer says. "Congratulations, Mr. Asher." She smiles at me as she stacks my winnings next to my bet.
I wonder if these employees sign an NDA for the casino. I make a mental note to ask Carl.
"Place your bets," the dealer calls again. "Hand number two, Mr. Asher."
Jesus, she’s keeping track. When I look over at Li, he’s smiling so big all I can think about is putting my fist through his teeth. I let my chips stand, almost three hundred thousand dollars now, and Li replaces his ten chips. This time he bets on the bank, like me.
"No more bets," the dealer says. She waves her hand again and then lays out the cards. This time the player wins. I just lost three hundred thousand dollars.
I look over at him and smile. "You’re bad luck. And we both lost, so is that a tie as far as the job offer goes?"
"You wish," he laughs back. "You lost, that is the only requirement. You should pay better attention to the rules." He pulls out a pad and paper and writes a quick note, then beckons the doorman over. "Pass this to my attendant, thank you." He looks over at me. "Don’t worry, I offered her less than her current salary. This time."
"Place your bets," the dealer calls out. "Mr. Asher, this is hand number three."
I put a hundred grand back on the bank. I’m not a big gambler, but I do know betting the bank is the safest option. Better odds than betting the player and much better odds than betting on a tie.
“I will bet against you and see if your luck theory holds, Asher."
"Whatever."
The hand is dealt and I sigh.
"Player has six, bank has four. Player wins!"
The dealer takes my money again, and now I’m out four hundred thousand dollars. I’m starting to sweat, so I loosen my tie and unbutton my shirt.
Li writes another note and hands it to the waiting doorman. He smiles up at me as the man leaves to deliver the message. "Sixty thousand, plus a fully furnished condo with the best view in Hong Kong."
"Bets, please! Hand number four for Vaughn Asher, movie star!"
I squint my eyes at the woman and she shrugs.
"Condo, Li? There was no condo offer in the deal."
"There was no mention of perks at all, Asher."
Fucking cheater. I place another hundred thousand dollars on the table, with the bank. I win that hand, gaining back almost two hundred grand. I let that bet stand, and that goes to the bank again. Now I’m back in business and Grace has not gotten another offer.
"Bet again, Asher!" the dealer cries out. This makes Li laugh. "Hand number six, num… ber… six." She calls it like she’s a barker in a midway side show.
I take back four stacks of chips and let two stacks ride. "On the bank," I say.
I cringe as the cards are presented. "Player wins!" the dealer calls out, taking my winnings with her.
Li writes up his message and tears the piece of paper off the pad with a lavish gesture. "Ninety thousand plus a condo, and her own personal driver."
"Fuck," I mutter under my breath. My heart is starting to beat faster. What if I fucking lose?
Li laughs. "How about another level of risk, hmmm?"
"Why would I do that?" I seethe at him. “I’ve won three of six. I’ve got an even chance. Why the hell would I raise the stakes now?”
"Because higher risk has higher reward, Asher. Let’s forget best of ten, eh? We have four hands left. I match your wager and bet with you for hands one and three. You match my wager and bet with me for the second and fourth hands. Deal?"
"But you still get to make an offer if I lose?"
He grins, and this should make me extremely suspicious, but I’m desperate to get the fuck out of this goddamned room. I check my watch and I’ve already been in here forty-five minutes. I could end up being tied up more than an hour since I have to play all ten hands.
"Since your luck really is running on empty,” Li says, “I will forgive the first three hands if you lose. But if you lose the tenth hand, you have to leave the hotel tonight without her. Not even a goodbye. Not even a phone call. And you may never contact her again. But if you win the last hand, even if you lose the first three or she accepts my offer, then I’ll back off."
I’m silent as I weigh my options.
"Decide, Asher. Your time is ticking."
"OK,” I reluctantly agree. I know he’s setting me up, but I’m too worked up over Grace to see how. I just need to get the fuck out of this room and go find her. The thought of walking away and never seeing her again… well, shit. I can’t let that happen. But I can’t let Li take her away either. That last offer was pretty sweet. “Deal."
"Place your bets," the dealer calls. "Hand number seven, Mr. Asher. Lucky number seven."
I put one hundred grand on the bank.
Li matches me like he promised.
The dealer deals the cards.
"Win to the bank!" the dealer calls. "Congratulations, winners! Place your bets. Hand number eight, players. Hand number eight, what will it be?"
Li moves his three hundred grand to bet the player, and I do the same.
The player gets dealt a three, the bank gets dealt a seven, the player gets dealt a five, and the bank is dealt a ten. "Player has eight, bank has seven, player wins! Congratulations, winners!"
"It seems," Li says as the dealer doubles our chips, "we might make a lucky team." He winks and I scowl.
"My turn to bet," I say.
"Hand number nine, Mr. Asher. Only two more left, make it count!"
I put all my chips, all six hundred thousand dollars, back on the bank. Li copies me with a satisfied smile.
"You really don’t like to take risks, do you, Asher? You’d make a horrible businessman."
"Don’t kid yourself, Li. This whole night has been a risk for me and I run more businesses than you’ll ever know."
"No more bets!" our animated dealer calls out. Like there’s anyone else here making bets. She deals the player and the ba
nk their two cards and adds up the scores. "Three for player. Eight for bank. Bank wins! Congratulations, winners!"
“Holy fuck. We just made one point two million dollars."
Li grins up at me. "We could win a lot more, Asher." He pushes his chips to the top of the table and then stands back a little, like he’s proud of himself and needs to take it all in for a moment.
"You have got to be fucking with me." There are only three ways to bet in punto banco, the version of baccarat that we’re playing here. You can bet the player wins and double your money. You can bet the bank wins and almost double your money. Or you can bet that there will be a tie and make eight times your money.
You are more liable to win betting on the bank than the player. Only a fool bets on the tie because the odds are heavily against you. And only a fool with nothing to lose bets one point two million on the tie.
I am not a man with nothing to lose, I realize. I am a man with everything to lose.
Li is silent, watching me.
I look at the dealer and she shrugs. "You guys are lucky."
"We are lucky," Li says. "Together at least. Bet with me, Asher. Let’s pool our luck. You have to anyway, it was part of the wager."
"How about I just give you the money, Li? If we win the tie, the payout is eight hundred percent. I will give you all that—almost ten million dollars. I will pay you ten million dollars to let me get the fuck out of this room and go find Grace Kinsella."
"Put your chips in the tie bet, Asher," he says without emotion. "Have a little faith."
"Faith in what? Stupidity? That your purpose here is to fuck up my life?"
"You said she was yours when you arrived at the craps table. Well, prove it. If she’s yours, certainly the universe knows of your claim."
"Your hour is up, Mr. Asher," the nosy dealer says. "But you agreed to play ten hands so as soon as you finish, you can leave."
"I can leave, but if I lose this hand I have to walk away."
"I thought you liked games, Vaughn?" His use of my first name, like we’re friends, sets me back. "You’re so used to getting what you want. So used to paying people off with money. You walked right into this. Come on, put your chips on the tie and let’s play this out like men."
I have no choice. None at all. I push all one point two million dollars’ worth of chips into the tie bet and hold my breath.
"No more bets," the dealer calls. "Last hand, all bets on tie." She waves her arm across the table and then slides the first card out of the shoe and places it face up on the player’s side. Ace.
She repeats this for the bank. Ten. Which is a zero in punto banco.
The player’s second card is an eight. "Fuck," I say loudly. That gives the player a score of nine, the highest score possible and an almost automatic win.
The bank’s next card is a five.
"Bank score of five requires a third card." The dealer swipes out another card from the shoe and flips it over.
My whole worlds stops. I am still holding my breath, unable to exhale the stale oxygen coursing through my veins. Why the fuck did I let myself get into this situation?
How could I bet a woman in a card game?
I swear to God, I’ll never do it again. I’ll never be this asshole again. Just let me win my—
"Four! Bank has nine, player has nine." The dealer looks up at me. "It’s a tie! You win! Congratulations, winners!"
I look over at Li and he’s smiling. "I told you, Asher. We’re lucky together. Let’s do business. I’ll call you next week. Your Grace is down in the private villa bar with her friend. I’ll have Carl take you to her."
He shakes my hand as I try to understand what just happened. My mind is blank. My whole body is in overdrive, my heart is beating wildly, I’m sweating, and relieved and stressed out all at once.
I nod my head at him as I walk to the door, leaving all my money on the table. Someone will take care of it for me. I’m too shaken up to even think about the money.
All I think about is how close I came to losing her.
I can’t lose her.
I will never let that happen again.
Chapter Seven
"ONE minute I’m enjoying my night being a good-luck charm for a filthy rich old guy and the next fucking Vaughn Asher is ruining my night." I take a long sip of my giant margarita. "Can you believe that asshole followed me to Vegas? I’m working and he’s gonna ruin my job."
"Mmm-hmm," the bartender says absently. "I hate it when Vaughn Asher shows up on his movie premiere night and follows my ass around Vegas. Fucking sucks."
I narrow my eyes at him. "Are you making fun of me?"
"Grace!"
I look across the bar and spy Kristi, waving at me frantically.
"Ah, fuck. And her." I point to Kristi, weaving her way through the crowd. "She’s supposed to marry Johnny Blazen tomorrow, but, pfft. I don’t see it."
The bartender stops washing the glass. "So let me get this straight. You" —he points his wet glass at me—"think you’re being stalked by Vaughn Asher. And she" —he points to Kristi who is almost at the bar now—"thinks she’s marrying Johnny Blazen tomorrow."
I take another long draw on my margarita. "That’s right."
"No more drinks for you."
"Grace!" Kristi says as she places her hand on my shoulder as she tries to catch her breath.
"Let me guess," the bartender says, pointing at her stomach. "That’s Johnny Blazen’s love child you’re carrying, right?"
"Oh my God, is he psychic?" Kristi squeals.
"You’re cut off too."
"I’m not drinking!"
"Out, both of you. You’re both on drugs."
"Come on, Grace. Come back to the rehearsal party with me, please. I need your support tonight. Please. His family is so unhappy with me. They’re not excited about this at all. I need you." She gives me a pouty face that would make a six-year-old proud.
"Kristi, I told you what I think. Marrying him is a big mistake."
"Why though? Please, if you know something I don’t, just tell me. Because I seriously love him, Grace."
"Well, of course you do, he’s a famous football player. He’s got a ton of money and he’s hot. But can you honestly say he loves you back? I mean, he won’t even move out of the house he shares with his ex. She owns it, the divorce is final, and he’s still living there."
"She’s not there though, she’s in the Caribbean—"
"Oh." I put up a hand. “I can’t even go there. The fucking Virgin Islands are where all my troubles started!"
"But Grace, did you hear rumors or something? Please, we’re friends, right? You can tell me."
"Kristi, how are you so dense? The man is twenty-four years old and he’s been divorced twice! You will be his third wife. You got pregnant when he was still married," I say, pointing down at her baby bump. "You were a cheater! Women all over the world are cursing your cheating name. You cannot seriously be blind to all this!"
“But all those things have a really good explanation, Grace. I mean, sure, the divorce thing is real. And yeah, I’m nervous about being the third wife and all. Especially since we’re having a baby. But—"
"Oh, fuck,” I interrupt Kristi. “Her again?" Vaughn Asher’s girlfriend is on the TV. She’s poking her belly, lifting up her shirt to show the cameras her pregnancy. It looks like she’s puffing out her stomach on purpose if you ask me.
"Four months," she says, answering the reporter’s questions about how far along she is.
"Oh, I know," Kristi says, leaning into me. "She’s been on TV all damn day. I’m so sick of her. Who cares, anyway, right?"
I shoot Kristi a look. "Well, you would say that, you’re the other woman. Johnny got you pregnant while he was still married. And now this woman is accusing Vaughn Asher of cheating on her. It kinda hits home, don’t you think?"
"I honestly don’t see how our situations are the same, Grace. I mean—"
"Are you serious?" I just look at her
with my mouth open. "OK, I have nothing for that. It’s so obvious, if you can’t see the similarities, I can’t help you. And God only knows how many girls Vaughn Asher has slept with. Johnny and Vaughn are two cheating assholes who deserve to have their pricks chopped off!"
"Why are you so hung up on Vaughn Asher? I mean, seriously—"
"Because, Kristi…" I seethe her name. It’s filled with venom. Directed at the wrong person, I admit. It should be directed at Vaughn or myself, because there’s no way a man like Asher is not involved with a woman every single minute of the day. "I’m Vaughn Asher’s other woman. Just like you are Johnny Blazen’s. But unlike you, I have the good sense to know what a ho I am, and—"
"That’s enough, Grace." I turn around and Vaughn is standing behind me, his arms crossed over his chest. "That’s e-fucking-nough."
"Oh my God, you’re Vaughn Asher’s girlfriend?" Kristi squeals, shaking me by the shoulders. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"
"I am not his girlfriend, Kristi! Jesus, wake the hell up! That"—I point up at the TV where the bitch is still talking about the future Baby Asher—"is his girlfriend right up there!"
"Kristi, is it?" Vaughn asks in his I’m-the-reasonable-one-here voice. "Grace is my girlfriend, that bitch is the lying ho. Grace." He turns back to me. "She’s not pregnant with my baby. I slept with her once, six months ago, so there’s no way that baby is mine. I made it very clear there was going to be nothing more between us before I met you on Saint Thomas and she obviously took it badly. I did not sleep with her that night. I dismissed her. She’s a liar. You, Grace Kinsella, are the only woman I’ve slept with since we met."
"I don’t believe you," I sneer.
"I don’t care. You’re drunk so I’ll just explain it to you again tomorrow when we wake up."
"I’m not going home with you."
"Oh, yes, Miss Kinsella, you are. Because you have no idea what I just went through to make sure I could have you tonight. There’s no way I’m letting you go now."
And then he hoists me up and swings me over his shoulder.
"Send her tab to my room," he calls out over the cheers from a crowd of men as we pass. "She’s with me from now on."
