Devil's Gamble

by Michele Arris

  Gavin looked around at his friends. He, Dax, and Lucas lounged on the plush leather furnishings in Sean’s corporate office. Across the room, Sean practiced his golf swing on the indoor, narrow putting green stretched out along the floor. “She’s not speaking to me because of what I did to Dale. She’ll see the assignments that I’ve been doing for my father as another betrayal.”

  “I say tell her.” Shoulders angled inward, knees loose, arms stretched with a slight bend at the elbows, Sean gave the golf ball a light tap with his nine iron and watched it drop into the shallow hole. He glanced up. “At this point, what could you lose?”

  “I agree, just come clean,” Dax said as he got up, strode to the sideboard, and refreshed his glass with a quarter of Chivas Regal, then returned to his place on the couch.

  “What they said,” Lucas added. “I’m deep in the shit with my wife because of all of this.”

  “How’s that couch treating you?” Sean wore a broad grin. He slung his tie over his shoulder and bent to retrieve the ball from the hole. “Is it comfy?”

  “Yes, Lucas, does she at least let you see her naked before you have to retreat from the room?” Dax wickedly teased.

  “Fuck you both,” came Lucas’s friendly rejoinder around a sip from his glass.

  “I’m afraid we can’t help you there,” Sean taunted, and they laughed at their buddy’s misfortune.

  “There are eight bedrooms in that house. I’m not benched on a goddamn couch,” Lucas groused. His head swiveled to Gavin seated beside him. “For fuck’s sake, man, talk to the woman, tell her everything. Bailey will champion Sienna’s cause until her best friend is happy, and I’ll pay the price until that happens. I’d like to get back to sleeping in my own bed and making love to my wife on a regular basis if you don’t mind.”

  “Well, Sienna isn’t speaking to me; there’s not much I can do about that. My calls and text messages to her go unanswered. When I come by your place, she won’t leave her room. There’s not much more I can do.” Gavin finished off his scotch, set the empty glass on the table in front of him, and stood up. “I’ve danced with you ladies long enough. I better get going. Got a two-hour ride tonight.”

  Sean came forward, and Lucas and Dax rose to their feet. Gavin delivered a handshake with a bro-slap on the back to each of them.

  “You said it’s just envelopes that you’ve been transporting back and forth?” Sean asked. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.” Gavin sighed in annoyance. “Damn ridiculous. The envelopes are sealed. Dylan and I don’t have a clue what’s in them. All I know is whatever it is, my pop treats it like the nuclear codes or some shit.”

  Sean’s desk phone buzzed. He crossed the room and press the intercom. “Yes, Carol?”

  “Sir, Keira Blair is here to see you. She’s down in the lobby. I don’t have anyone by that name on your calendar for today. Should I send her away?”

  “No,” Sean rushed out. “Send her up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He closed the line, then looked at them all, flashing a grin. “Get out.”

  “Who’s Keira Blair?” Gavin asked as he observed Sean quickly adjust his tie and combed his fingers repeatedly through his hair.

  “She’s Nate’s friend, the one that was over playing tennis that day when we hung out,” Dax answered and turned to Sean. “What is she doing here?”

  Sean grabbed the empty glasses on the table and carried them over to the sideboard, tidying up as he said, “I’d told her to stop by if ever she wanted me to help her put together a business model. She’s trying to start an event planning business. I didn’t think she’d actually take me up on it.”

  “So, you’re just providing your professional expertise?” Lucas smirked with arms folded at his chest.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  Gavin, Dax, and Lucas looked at one another as they watched Sean stride over to his bookshelves and started straightening knick-knacks, then he hastily moved to his desk and neatly arranged and stacked papers.

  “Dude, really, look at you.” Dax laughed, and Sean looked up. Before he could respond there was a soft knock upon the door. His assistant, Carol, entered. The woman, Keira, stepped inside, then Carol closed the door behind her.

  With a large, black handbag hanging at the crook of her arm, she cradled a leather portfolio at her chest. The other hand held a cup-holder with two grande-size Starbucks cups. Her conservative, pale blue blouse was tucked neatly into a fitted gray skirt, that hit high enough above the knee to expose well-toned legs. The severe arch of her pumps gave emphasis to the shapeliness of her calves. Dark curls framed her attractive, warm-brown features and bounced about her shoulders as her whiskey-brown gaze moved between them, then settled on Sean. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything. I probably should’ve called. My last appointment canceled at work, and my evening class was also canceled. I had some time and thought I’d take you up on your offer to help me with my business proposal.”

  No one spoke for an awkward moment, then Sean walked forward. “No, you’re not interrupting. They were just leaving.” He took the coffee carrier from her and set it on the table. “I’d be happy to help. Have a seat while I see them out.”

  As she sat down on the couch and opened her portfolio, displaying its colored tab pages, then pulled from her handbag a MacBook Air, propping it open, Gavin could see she was all about business. That said, Sean on the other hand, looked eager to simply have her share the same space with him. Gavin understood that consuming level of adoration for a woman who was driven, who knew what she wanted, who had her shit together.

  Sean walked them to the door and pulled it open. He brought a hand down on Gavin’s shoulder. “Hang in there, bro. I’m here if you need anything.”

  “You play it smart, my man,” Lucas whispered to Sean with a look over at the lady, whose full focus was centered on her notes.

  “No worries. I want to help her, that’s all.”

  Thinking of Sienna, Gavin found those word’s awfully familiar. “You keep telling yourself that,” he drawled low, glumly.

  They headed for the elevator.

  “Dude, only one assignment left after this one, then you’re free,” Dax remarked.

  “Yeah.” But was he really free? Gavin felt as though he was a walking, highly incurable, contagious disease. Aside from his friends who were apparently immune, he never allowed anyone to get too close, to get caught in the web of his family shit. With Sienna, he’d found the antidote, the one woman to set him free.

  You just going to leave me?

  That’s right, Mr. Kavanagh.

  She’d called him Kavanagh. That’s how she saw him now, what she saw in him. A contagion. He thought about that as he headed out to do his next pickup.

  • • •

  “Dylan, stop fidgeting, damn. Just looking at you makes me agitated.”

  Seated in the passenger seat of the man’s Suburban SUV, Gavin cut a look at him. “And put that cancer stick out. I don’t need the stink of that shit in my clothes again.”

  “Afraid your lady will yell at you?” A stupid grin showed severely straight teeth, courtesy of six and a half years of braces following a lacrosse stick incident.

  “I said get rid of it.”

  Dylan put his window down and flicked the cigarette. “How’s your lady coming along? Has she recovered from her injuries?” When no reply came, his head turned, and he stared for a long moment. “Eddie told me she’s black.”

  Gavin shot him a challenging hard look. “Yeah, and?”

  He shrugged. “And nothing. I already knew. Mike mentioned it.”

  “What about Pop? Does he know?” Gavin now stared at him with slight unease.

  “Nah, everyone knows when to and when not to bother Pop. Anyway, I thought your ass might be gay.”

  Gavin sat up sharply. “Where have you been? All the women I’ve been with. That nicotine must’ve wiped out the few observation brain cells you had.”

&nbs
p; Dylan threw his head back in a laughing outburst. “I’m just fucking with you, bro.” With a sobering grin, he opened his middle console and pulled out a small bag of Sour Patch Kids. “It’s good you met someone. I’d like to meet her. I hear she’s an artist.” He tore into the bag and offered up the candy.

  Gavin waved him off as despair stalled his breath in his chest; he had to give himself a moment for it to settle. “She left me,” he voiced low. His brother’s eyes stretched wide. “Eddie mouthed off to her about what I’d done to that motherfucker that shot her.”

  “You hadn’t told her?”

  Gavin shook his head.

  “Mistake number one. What about this? Does she know you make these runs with me?”

  “Four assignments, then I’d be done. She would’ve never had to know. I couldn’t risk how’d she’d react.”

  “Mistake number two. Bro, I tell Angie everything. It’s against Pop’s rules, I know, but I don’t care. I realized long ago, if I was ever lucky enough to find a woman that was willing to take on this life, despite everything, I would hold nothing back from her. Look, neither of us want this life. If you want that woman long-term, I’m not talking your customary one-month attachment, I’m talking wife, kids, dog, the whole nine, bro. If that’s what you want with this one, you can’t hold anything back from her. Fuck Pop’s rules.”

  Gavin sat quietly, digesting the man’s surprisingly wise words. Though Dylan was the oldest, he’d been pegged as the runt of the litter. Pop was categorically wrong. He’d mistaken lack of strength with quiet defiance.

  His brother hadn’t been given refuge and security at a private boarding school to shield him. He’d lived in the murky reality his entire life and fought against it. No, he wasn’t weak, far from it.

  Their heads turned at the sound of tires crunching the gravel; both squinted against the intense headlights advancing toward them.

  Gavin checked his watch. It was a couple minutes shy of 1:00 a.m. “It’s about time.”

  Stepping out of the vehicle, Dylan tucked the revolver in the back waistband of his jeans beneath his navy-blue sport coat before stepping back to grab the aluminum attaché case from the backseat floor of the vehicle. “You’re coming to Pop’s birthday bash, right?” he asked casually.

  Standing within the frame of the passenger door, Gavin didn’t answer as he secured his Glock at his back beneath his leather jacket.

  “Dude, you had better show your face.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Gavin rounded the truck, and with hands clasped behind him, he took his place a step behind his brother’s right.

  Eyes set straight ahead on the two men exiting the blacked-out Yukon, Dylan cocked his head and whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “Grovel at her feet to get her back and bring her by to meet the fam.” In a blink, he was in complete control as he addressed those before him, “Gentlemen.”

  Watching his brother, his calm, calculating finesse, Gavin knew that yes, their pop was grossly mistaken.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Sienna had been pampered at the spa the entire morning. The masseuse masterfully worked out the tension in her neck and shoulders. Afterward, she and Bailey spent the entire afternoon at CityCenterDC, shopping at the many couture boutiques. If her BFF had had reservations before about spending her husband’s money, the girl didn’t show it today. And Bailey had been very generous with her card swipes. They wouldn’t need to shop for fall wear the entire season.

  Sienna released a sigh of calm. Devoting the day to herself helped to clear her head of the many issues crowding her brain.

  Turning to Bailey in the driver’s seat, she took her hand that rested on the center console, and gave it a light squeeze. “This was fun. Thank you. I didn’t realize how much I needed to get out, to just breathe, you know?”

  “I know, right? I’m glad it helped.” Bailey glanced over a couple of times as she drove. “I like the burgundy tips in your hair. Nice touch. The cut and style reminds me of Halle Berry in Swordfish. You’re rocking the look, girlfriend.”

  Sienna ran her fingers through her soft, willowy locks. “I thought I’d try something different.” Grinning, she rubbed her inner thighs together. “Girl, that platinum spa package is where it’s at. I don’t think they missed one single hair follicle anywhere.” She reached over and stroked Bailey’s thigh. “You’re smooth as a baby’s butt.” She winked. “Does that mean Lucas will be returning to the marriage bed tonight?”

  “I guess he has suffered long enough. He tried to shower with me this morning, but I’d finished and dressed to leave for our spa appointment. Poor baby. He’s so horny right now.” She giggled, sounding only slightly contrite.

  “Bails, come on, put the big guy out of his misery; give the man some lovin’.”

  “Oh, I intend to.” She looked over, fashioning a subtle grin. “He isn’t the only one suffering.”

  Pulling up to the security gates of her home, she hit the remote. The heavy wrought iron gates parted, and the Bentley rolled along the gray cobblestone.

  Sienna sucked in an anxious breath at the sight of the black Lamborghini parked in the circular driveway. Beside it was a metallic-black, Cabriolet Porsche convertible and a dark gray Maserati Gran Turismo. Backdropped against the stately white brick mansion and balanced by the centered, three-tiered fountain, the vehicles were displayed like priceless jewels. The only thing missing was a rotating platform to display the cars from all angles.

  “Sie,” Bailey looked over, concern blanketing her face, “we could take a drive. Go see a movie. Something. Anything you want.”

  “Who do the other cars belong to?”

  “Dax’s the Porsche and Sean’s the other one. I didn’t know Lucas was having them over.”

  “It’s cool.” It wasn’t, not really. Sienna wasn’t quite ready to face Gavin, but life seemed to enjoy throwing her curveballs that tended to smack her dead center between the eyes.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Pish.” She waved a dismissing hand, deciding she’d tug up her big girl panties. “Yes, I’m good.”

  Bailey pulled the car into the garage, and they got out.

  Entering the kitchen, the men all stood around the center island counter stuffing their faces with a smorgasbord of buffalo chicken wings, mini burger sliders, loaded potato skins, and a variety of chips, dips, and a host of other eats.

  “Wow, babe, look at this spread,” Bailey said as she and Lucas embraced, greeting one another with pecks on the lips. “Had I known the guys were coming over, I would’ve prepared something before I left this morning.”

  “No need. I called a caterer.”

  “I see that.” Bailey turned to the men and smiled. “It’s good to see you all.” They each returned the greeting.

  Across the wide slab of Egyptian marble, blue eyes, deep and intense, were pinned on Sienna. Needing to get out of the direct line of Gavin’s stare, she said hello to Dax, then crossed over to Sean with an extended hand. “We haven’t met. I’m Sienna Keller.”

  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Sienna. I’m—”

  “Sean Grant. I know who you are. You’re Paris Hilton on steroids—hotel heir, but without the sex tape . . . I hope,” she joked to try to lessen her anxiety at having Gavin’s focus laser-locked on her every movement. It didn’t help one bit. “Thanks for the plush accommodations during my art tour. The Grant Royal suites are amazing.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  Her gaze traveled the length of him—about six-four easy—broad shouldered—thick, wavy dark hair—sea-green eyes. She then turned to Lucas. “I suppose you have to be tall and gorgeous to join your club, is that it, big guy?” An appraising scan was delivered to all the men, with her assessing gaze lingering on Gavin the longest, then she turned back to Sean. “Do you all have a friend who isn’t hot? If you do, poor guy must have a hell of a time with you four as his wingmen.” Sean blinked, and a slight grin split the man’s exceptionally pr
etty mouth, looking unsure how to respond.

  Dax delivered Sean a slap on the back. “Come on, man, you know you’re a pretty girl. Own it.”

  Light chuckles filled the room briefly, then Lucas said, “We’re headed downstairs. The Nats might actually make it to the playoffs.” His attention narrowed in on his wife’s shopping bags. “How many pairs of shoes did you get this time?”

  Bailey smirked sheepishly with a raised chin. “Maybe I didn’t buy any.”

  “She bought three,” Sienna supplied.

  “Of course she did.” Holding his wife affectionately around the waist, Lucas said to the guys, “You all should see our closet. Shoe boxes are stacked to the ceiling. I might have to find her a support group.”

  Bailey gasped and playfully slapped his chest. “I’m not addicted.”

  “You are,” Sienna and Lucas said in concert, and again, chuckles broke out.

  Gavin rounded the island and came up to her. “Hey, sweetness,” he voiced softly. “How have you been?”

  Though her heart pounded against her ribs, and her stomach unexpectedly tightened from his mere closeness, she managed to work her tone into an intentionally cold reply. “As good as can be expected.”

  Gentle fingers brushed behind her left ear, toying with wisps of hair at her nape as he studied her features, then met her gaze. “I like your hair. You look lovely. Uh, you think we could sit and talk a bit?”

  An awkward, deafening silence now held everyone.

  She simply wasn’t ready to talk. Thankfully, sensing her distress, Bailey lifted her shopping bags at nearly eye level, drawing everyone’s attention. “Well, we’re off to go play dress-up.” She linked their arms and whisked her out of the kitchen.

  Sienna’s pulse didn’t calm until they’d made their way to the room she’d been occupying. She sat down at the foot of the bed and toed off her flats. Burying her face in both hands, she released a long, anguished breath. “I’ve missed him so much. I love that man, Bails.” She looked up, and her friend’s warm gaze stared back at her from across the room. “I just can’t accept what he did. And then the lying, how can I trust him?”