“No, he’s got some stuff going on.”
I settled in my seat and watched the lights go by as Remy drove me home. “Well, make sure this is my last limo ride. A girl could get use to this.”
In the quiet tomb of the limo, I bit my lip. I didn’t want to cry in front of Remy. I had an inkling Greyson would hear about it, and it would make Remy supremely uncomfortable. I’m sure he could handle ten ninjas, but one crying girl would defeat him.
Remy parked in front of the chapel. I hopped out the door before he could open his. I called my thanks to him as I scurried away before tears began to fall.
I ran up the stairs and into my apartment. I kicked off my shoes and threw my purse on the floor. I gazed down to find Gus waiting for me with an angry stare down. Good poker face.
“I’m sorry, Gus. I bet you’re hungry.”
I poured his food ration and threw in a few treats for not eating the couch while I was away.
My cell phone vibrated in my purse. I reached inside and dug around, but the cell phone wasn’t cooperating. I was in no mood to play find-the-cell-phone. I dumped my purse upside down and grabbed the phone as it fell out.
“Nadia, it’s Mya. Did you make it home okay?”
“I did. Why?”
“Greyson asked me to find out. He received a call from Remy.”
“News travels fast in the casino.”
“Only about some things. Sometimes I can’t wrench any news from either of them,” Mya said. “I was wondering if you wanted to go and grab a bite to eat? I heard you didn’t win the tournament.”
I cringed. News really did travel fast.
I met Mya at an inexpensive Mexican restaurant about a mile off the strip. She waved me to the table. A pitcher of margaritas was waiting on the table for me.
“Planning on getting us drunk?” I asked.
She giggled. “No, but I need to relax, and I know you’re probably wound up from the tournament,” she said, pouring both glasses to the rim. “So tell me about the tournament.”
“I want to forget about the tournament. Let’s just say, Caleb beat me with a seven-two.”
“Is that bad?”
“Statistically it’s the worst possible hand, and he still won.”
“You must be mad.”
“Boiling.”
“So . . . are you seeing Caleb?”
“No. I never want to see him again.” Except it was a lie. I had to see him again this weekend. I’ll make sure to leave all my knives at home. I’m such an idiot.
Mya’s eyes brightened. “What about Greyson? I can vouch for him being the best brother-in-law in the world.”
“He seems like a nice enough guy, but his life revolves around work.”
“That’s for sure. He hasn’t been to a family gathering in years. David always razzed him about it.”
“David?”
“Oh, that’s my husband. I told you he’s missing, right? It’s been a couple of years. Greyson helped me get back on my feet,” Mya said as her fingers traveled to the rim of her glass, mindlessly circling the rim. “David and I weren’t married long before he disappeared. I still love him, but I decided I needed to move on with my life. His family has been really supportive. They aren’t mad I’m seeing someone.”
“Sounds like a nice family.”
“Oh, they are. If you marry Greyson then we can be sisters-in-law . . . well, sort of.”
“I’m not going to marry anyone just to become a sister-in-law,” I said, adding quickly, “even though you would be the best sister-in-law ever.”
Mya’s smile brightened.
I believed a little payback was in order. “So, I have someone in mind for you.”
Her eyes widened over her margarita glass. “I already have someone.”
“True, but I think I know of someone better, and you already know him.”
I was actually thinking of Remy. I didn’t know too much about him. Mya seemed like a sweet girl who could use a little protection, and Remy could use a little softening. Come to think of it, I wonder if Remy is married?
“Are you trying to hook me up?”
“Yes. And a little taste of your own medicine was in order.”
She laughed. “Alright, I’ll give it a rest. Greyson lectures me for always trying to fix people up. Just keep that guy on the back burner.”
“Deal.”
The next morning I crawled out of bed with a margarita induced headache. As I stumbled through the apartment to find the coffee maker, a note wedged under my door caught my attention. I could tell from the writing it was from Frankie.
Caleb was here to see you but didn’t want to disturb you. Wasn’t that nice of him? He left a ticket in the office for you.
Ticket?
After a pot of coffee and a hot shower, I traipsed downstairs. No one was around as it was still too early in the day for weddings.
I extracted an envelope with my name on it from the front desk drawer. There was another note with sloppy handwriting that scrawled across the paper.
Nadia, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to suck out with a seven-two. Actually, I was trying to get your stack back up by losing the hand. It didn’t seem to work too well, did it? Please come to the final table as my guest. I would love to see you. P.S. If you come and forgive me, I’ll forget the wager . . . unless you’d care to honor it.
Still furious, I grumbled. If he honestly didn’t mean to win with that ridiculously crappy hand, and he’ll forget the wager, then I had to go. The final table wasn’t scheduled until the afternoon. I stuffed the ticket in my pocket and made my way back upstairs. I had plenty of time before the tournament began, and I was determined to relax. It wouldn’t be wise to show up angry and hungry for revenge. Stuffing myself with pancakes and drowning my anger in syrup might douse the flames a bit.
“Helloooo, Elvis,” I said to Frankie as I made my way downstairs to leave for the tournament. My headache was gone and my stomach was full. All that remained was a bit of post margarita sluggishness and a giant hole in the pit of my stomach from losing ten thousand.
“I know. He’s way over done, but he’s sooo Vegas that I can’t help myself.”
“You never dress up as young Elvis anymore. I like it when you do; you’re very dashing.”
“Isn’t that the truth? Young Elvis, however, didn’t dress up in a bell-bottomed rhinestone jumpsuit. I like the flash! By the way, I started a calendar for you. I’ve already booked you on Friday, so you need to practice.”
“What?” I narrowed my eyes. “What did you do?”
“I did what any fabulous manager does and found you a paying gig to create a name for yourself.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“It’s perfectly harmless. There’s a magic act on the strip. They need a girl who can perform card shuffling and tossing tricks before the main act. You know, Vegas style. It’s going to be televised too. You’re lucky I found this gig for you.”
“I’m going to look ridiculous.”
“Your card tossing tricks are awesome. It looks like they fly though the air, and they always come back into your hand. You had a pretty sad social life in high school to have gotten that good.”
“Why don’t you hire that poker player who can slice through carrots with playing cards?”
“You mean the guy with the hat and beard, Chris? He’s a televised pro and already working the circuit.”
“Does it pay anything?”
“That’s my girl. Now you’re talking! It pays eight hundred minus my cut.”
“How much is your cut?”
“That’s not important right now. Let’s concentrate on surviving the gig.”
“Fine, but if I make an ass out of myself, will you give up on this?”
“Don’t you know anything about celebrities? They always make asses out of themselves. It’s good PR; gets them noticed. By the way, where’s my Rocky outfit?”
Oh, crap! It was still in the trunk of the lim
o. Ugh! I hope Remy or Greyson didn’t rummage through the bag.
I arrived at the casino minutes before the tournament began, timing it perfectly so I didn’t have to talk to Caleb. I settled in my front row seat to watch the final table. The game was about to start. A camera crew and floor director talked to the director through their headsets.
Overhead lights were turned off leaving the spotlights to shine on the table. Six players were led out to the floor. The audience clapped at their entrance creating a buzz of excitement which saturated the air. Caleb would be playing for the one million dollar prize.
The host came out with a dazzling white smile and spoke the opening lines. Four scantily clad women with enhanced breasts that defied all laws of gravity paraded out, stacking mounds of bundled money on the table. It was the one million dollar prize.
I drooled as bundle-upon-bundle fell to the table making the audience cheer. Caleb casually glanced at the money piled in front of him but was unaffected by the quantity. He caught me studying him and gave me a small wink. I ground my teeth together. He couldn’t care less about the money while I was going to have to live on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
The dealer shuffled, and the air in the room changed. It was now serious and quiet. The breathless anticipation was like televised golf where everyone intently watches the players and no one makes a sound. Even though I could kick Caleb, I did like to see him win. He took winning and losing in stride as if it was meant to be.
I guess he’s an okay guy as long as he’s not at my table. My teetering views on Caleb were going to keep me guessing as to how I truly felt about him.
Watching poker wasn’t the same as playing it. I’d rather be dealt in on the action. Twiddling my thumbs on the sidelines wasn’t terribly exciting. Unlike a timed sport, poker can go on forever. This could be a remarkably short game or a dreadfully long one. I crossed my fingers for a short one.
As the players were bantering and shuffling chips between their fingers, my mind drifted to the bet. I know I don’t have to worry about the weekend with Caleb anymore, but I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel his hands on me . . . to experience his lips covering mine . . .
The crowd burst into an uproar. So much for golf; the atmosphere changed to football. I jumped in my seat at the outburst. I hadn’t been paying attention. Caleb’s imaginary lips and hands had been distracting me.
“Did you see that?” A man next to me said as he jumped out of his seat in a flash. He was clapping with the audience and even gave a short whistle.
When he sat down, I asked him, “What happened?”
“Oh man, just like a girl not to know. Caleb knocked out three guys in one hand. I don’t think that’s ever happened at a final table. The guy is a poker genius.”
I sighed. “He is.”
All he had to do was beat two other players and he would win the million. The bastard better not win. It’s too bad I don’t believe in voodoo because I would have brought a doll of him and jabbed it with a needle. I took a deep breath. Maybe there’s a shrink out there who specializes in poker players that can’t shrug off bad beats.
Caleb grabbed me from my seat and spun me around. The jerk won the tournament. The other players never stood a chance.
“You’re still on camera,” I said, trying to escape the spotlight.
“I know.”
“I can’t believe you won. Go claim your money.” I pushed at him to let me down.
“I will, but I want something first.”
“This is very embarrassing. What do you want?”
Caleb leaned his head down and kissed me. His lips were hard and strong. I had an urge to throw my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. I also had a strong urge to give him a black eye. He released me before I could do either.
“Wait for me at the bar. I’ll be done in a minute,” he said.
My legs were a little unsteady when I sat down.
The man sitting next to me inspected me with a quizzical gaze. “Dude, I thought he only dated models.”
The power zapped and sizzled leaving us in complete darkness.
“Please stay calm and remain in your seats,” the host instructed. “The lights will be restored as soon as possible. Security staff will bring flashlights to assist.”
The chatter from the audience was quiet at first and then grew louder.
“Nadia?” A hand touched my arm.
“Caleb?”
“Yeah, are you okay?”
“Of course.”
He plucked me from the chair and took my seat. His strong hands guided me down on to his lap. His finger traced up my arm to my shoulder and then stopped at my neck. As his thumb massaged the side of my neck, I stifled the urge to kick him and let the sensation relax me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Passing the time the best way I know.”
“You sucked out on me with a seven-two.”
“I know. I’m really sorry.”
“I was the bubble. I hate being the bubble!”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“How?”
He pressed his lips to mine.
I pushed him back. “I would rather have my ten thousand buy-in back.”
He wrapped his arms around me. A jolt hit me in the stomach as he traced my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. I slightly parted for him, and he took advantage parting my lips further and explored. His tongue played against mine. His hands ran up and down my back grazing the side of my breast with each pass making me press into his lap.
“You’re not playing fair,” he said into my neck as he nibbled a trail down to my shoulders.
“Neither are you.”
“Is the wager still on?”
The lights buzzed and then flickered on. I squinted at the sudden brightness trying to move away from Caleb.
The man next to us frowned at me then Caleb. “What the hell, man? I thought you were into hot chicks.”
Caleb was about to answer when a gasp from the audience startled us. The one million dollar cash prize was missing . . . and a man was sprawled on the floor.
Chapter 6
Caleb stood me up so he could move out of the chair. He gave me one last kiss. “Meet me at the bar later. I have a feeling I might get wrapped up in this.”
I nodded.
The tournament director escorted the audience into a separate room off to the side. The police arrived at the site within fifteen minutes. They began to let people go one-by-one after they gave their personal information and were asked a couple of questions. I waited until the end.
I watched as Caleb talked with Greyson Miller, Jason Biggs, and the tournament director. Each one was wearing a different version of the same stunned expression.
From where I stood, I could see the medical team move around the man on the floor. A slight gap gave me a glimpse of the man. I noticed a cowboy hat and realized it was the man with the cowboy hat from the previous day; the one Remy said was bad news. He was lying on the floor, but there wasn’t any blood. The EMTs moved him onto a gurney and rushed him out. I wonder if he had a heart attack.
I gave my information to the police and was released. I headed to the bar to wait for Caleb.
Caleb spotted me at the bar after he was finished with the police and the casino management. He quickened his pace to dodge Jessica. She was hot on his tail buzzing in his ear. I could hear her terse comments from where I sat.
“You’re going to ruin your reputation. You can’t kiss a regular girl on air.”
He stopped abruptly. “That’s funny. I was under the impression I could kiss who I wanted. A man died tonight, and my prize was stolen. Can’t you give me a break?”
“Not when you have a reputation to uphold.”
“That’s a reputation you made for me not one I wanted,” he said, but a small smile escaped. “It was fun in the beginning.” He turned from Jessica. “Nadia, let’s go.”
I grabbed my
purse. “Where are we going?”
“To celebrate, of course.” His lips curled into a sly grin. “If you’re still up for the wager, we can start our weekend.”
I followed him through the casino. “So, the guy is dead?”
“Yeah, I think so. The medical team wasn’t getting a response.”
“What happened to your money?”
“Oh, that’s no problem. I already have a check.”
“Did you know the guy who died?”
“A little. He’s a hot headed player.”
“Remy told me he was bad news.”
“Who’s Remy.”
“Greyson Miller’s driver.”
Caleb stopped in his tracks. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you seeing Greyson?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It is if you’re coming with me this weekend.”
“If I was seeing Greyson, I would hope he’d recognize me at the event you dragged me to.”
“Good point.” He slid his hand down my back drawing me closer. “However, I barely recognized you when you were in a dress and all dolled up.”
“But you did.”
Caleb leaned in and nipped my bottom lip. “You never answered about this weekend.”
“You said if I watched the final table you’d forget about the wager.”
“The problem is I can’t forget about the wager.”
“Those are your hormones talking.”
“Most likely but they’re telling me to make a new wager.”
“No way! There isn’t any thing I want that would make me wager with you.”
“I’ll take that challenge.” He grinned as he ushered me out the door.
The valet jogged to Caleb’s Porsche. He tossed Caleb the keys after he parked at the curb and hopped out. Caleb dropped the keys into my hand.
“Care to wager now?”
“You would wager your Porsche?”
“If you win, you keep the Porsche. If I win, I want a weekend with you of my choosing, and I pick the location.”
The Big Blind (Nadia Wolf) Page 6
