Chloe’s gone now. Noah’s the only member of my family left alive.
Somewhere, a link has failed. I fight the sneaking suspicion that I’m to blame for this. Ed Wagner had parental rights that I should have terminated, but I hadn’t acted, secure in the knowledge that Wagner was too busy surviving his jail sentence to pay attention to his son. I had warned the daycare never to release Noah to anyone other than Dominic or me, but I hadn’t accounted for temporary summer care workers who hadn’t known what to do. I should have hardened my heart when Noah asked me where his daddy was, and I should have never shown my nephew photos of his father.
“Noah called him daddy,” Olivia, the woman who runs the daycare explained earlier, almost in tears. “He ran towards this man to hug him. Patty didn’t know…”
What can I say to that? Can I tell Olivia that my drug-addicted sister had no sense of judgment, and she’d been convinced that her boyfriend Ed was father material? Can I tell her that I’m terrified that the courts will rule in favor of the biological parent over the uncle who has always been there for Noah?
At my side, Dominic has finished his conversation. Judging from the way the phone is flung onto the couch, I’m assuming his attempts to locate Ed Wagner have gone no better than mine.
“No luck yet,” he confirms. He holds my eyes. “We’ll find the fucker, Carter.”
“I know.” I have to hold on to hope. I have to believe I’ll find Noah before Ed Wagner starts using again. My sources tell me he was clean in jail. But outside? He’ll get sucked in again, like he has before, time and time again. The same way my twin-sister Chloe was sucked in, until she died of an overdose.
“Carter,” he repeats. “Calm down. Noah’s not in danger. As much as I hate to admit it, Ed was a good enough father before Chloe died. And he’s not doing drugs anymore. All our sources tell us that.”
“And then he walked away,” I point out. “He disappeared and left me to take care of Noah. Are you forgetting that?”
“I’m not.” His voice is calm. “I’m not defending Ed Wagner. But you are only choosing to remember what you want. Ed called Noah every week. He didn’t abandon the kid - he left him with you while he went and tried to get his life straight.”
If Dominic wasn’t my best friend, I’d be tempted to punch him. “I’m not listening to this,” I say flatly. “I don’t need to hear you defend Ed. If my sister had never met that asshole, she’d still be alive. You know that as well as I do.”
The office phone on the desk rings loudly, startling both of us. Dominic shakes his head. “Ignore it,” he suggests, but I’ve already reached for the instrument. “What is it?” I ask. Though I’m not working tonight, the security staff have seen me make my way into my office, and they know that if I’m around and they have a concern, I’m usually available to respond.
“Carter, we need an authorization for a player to join the back room,” Linda, the woman in charge of the high rollers says. “Monitor One.”
This is routine stuff. The back room has the high-stakes tables, and we don’t let people play there until we know they can handle the heat. When the blind is more than a thousand dollars, the losses can rack up alarmingly fast. Two years ago, a guy lost fifty grand one night at the New Sun, just down the road from us. He walked outside into the cool night, put a gun to his head, and blew his brains out. Ever since then, no one gets an auto-entry into the back room.
I turn my head to look at the screen Linda has indicated, and my eyes lock on to a woman that my body remembers, even after five months. I click my fingers to get Dominic’s attention and gesture to the screen. “Brunette dressed in green,” I say to him, covering the receiver with a hand so my conversation is muffled from Linda. “Looks familiar?”
He focuses on the image, then a slow grin covers his face. “Well, well, what do you know?” he says. “Runaway Ella in my casino.”
“Linda says she wants to get into the high-stakes games.”
I watch his expression change as he puts it together. “She’s a poker player? You think Ed will go to Bulldog?”
“It’s a backup plan,” I reply. “Just in case we can’t locate Ed in the next forty-eight hours. If Ella will go for it, of course.”
He grins. “From the impression I got of her, she didn’t seem like the kind to back away from a challenge.”
Though I’m consumed in worry for Noah, I still remember that night. She’d been fiery. Passionate. She’d been open about her desires and she’d played no games. She’d wanted both of us and she hadn’t been afraid to tell us that.
And when we’d woken up in the morning, she was gone. No note. No contact information, and no way to find her again.
She should have been a passing fancy, but I haven’t been able to forget her. “What’s her name?” I ask Linda, knowing that she would have checked the woman’s identification before placing the call.
“Gabriella Alves,” she says. “New York license.”
That makes sense - we had met her in a bar in midtown Manhattan.
“Can she play poker? Did she play on the lower tables?”
“She did.” Linda sounds grudgingly impressed. “Girl did pretty damn good.”
I make my decision. “Can you have someone escort Ms. Alves to my office, Linda? I’d like to talk to her.”
She sounds confused, but she agrees. “Of course, Carter. Right away.”
* * *
Chapter 3
Gabriella:
Even though it is a mere two hours from the city, I have only been to Atlantic City once. But last night at Piper’s restaurant, Wendy had made an offhand comment about one of her clients, a woman she was representing in a divorce. “Her husband claims he’s spent all their savings playing poker at the high stakes tables at Grand River in Jersey. Of course, it isn’t true - he’s just hiding his assets. Idiot.” She’d snorted in derision and moved on to talk about something else, but I wasn’t listening anymore.
Atlantic City. Of course. A small glimmer of hope had pierced through my veil of gloom. In a casino, I wouldn’t need Sammy’s tacit approval to play. It might be a way out of the jam I was in.
Early this morning, I’d called my boss Nathan. “Can I take a week off?” I’d asked him, knowing he wouldn’t have a problem with it.
“Absolutely,” he had said readily. “Going somewhere?”
“I’m just going to rent a car and putter around the area,” I’d replied. “Maybe go to Atlantic City?”
“Scouting out a different place to live?” he’d asked me with a knowing tone in his voice.
“Huh?”
“Haven’t you heard? The company is planning to open an office there. Cheaper than Manhattan and a lot of our work is done over the phone and the internet anyway.”
I’d rolled my eyes. Nathan would find it a tough sell to get people to move away from New York. I couldn’t imagine the men and women I worked with voluntarily exiling themselves away from the excitement of the big city.
“Keep your phone on, just in case something comes up,” he had requested. “And I’ll see you back in the office Monday? You can take more time if you want. There’s not a lot going on.”
* * *
As I wait in a small, yet luxuriously decorated private room, I get angrier and angrier. By the time ten minutes have elapsed, I’m spitting mad, ready to rip these fucking Atlantic City security goons a new one.
I know what this is about. People see a woman win some games, and they get nervous. When I asked to move to the high stakes tables out back, the dealer had told me she needed to call it up to the head of security. She’s been gone fifteen minutes. No doubt, she’s stalling. The guys who play at the high stakes table don’t like to lose to a woman.
So far, I’ve won three thousand dollars. It’s nice, but I have to speed this up. I need the high-stakes tables. The Grand River is the only casino in the town with them, and they only run the games three nights a week. I’ll need to win, and win steadily, for more
than one night to make up the gap. I don’t have a lot of time and I still have ninety five thousand, five hundred dollars to win.
Tapping my feet impatiently, I look around the room. I typically don’t visit casinos. I find them dim and depressing spaces, filled with seniors gambling away their social security money. Of course, Sammy’s rooms are hardly the height of cheer, but at least there, no one is exploiting the loneliness of old people for gain. Just suckers like me.
But the decor in this space is unlike any casino I’ve been in before. The walls are a deep charcoal grey, with modern art paintings dominating the space. The couches are red and the lighting is warm and golden. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was in someone’s living room. Somebody wealthy, and with impeccable taste.
Finally, the platinum blonde comes back. “Mr. Hughes, our Director of Security would like to talk to you,” she tells me. “Please follow me.”
My anger returns full force. This Mr. Hughes is going to get a piece of my mind.
* * *
The elevator opens into a large, open space, with floor to ceiling windows that look out on the street below. Ready as I am to open my mouth and start yelling, I ignore the gorgeous room. I move forward, indignant, my tirade quivering at my lips, then I halt dead.
Because the men that face me?
It’s them.
The two guys from my unforgettable one-night stand five months ago.
Dominic and Carter.
In front of me.
* * *
Want to read more? Click here to read Gambling with Gabriella (A Playing for Love Novella)
A Note from Tara
Dear readers,
I hope you enjoyed reading Betting on Bailey.
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Cheers and happy reading!
Tara
About Tara Crescent
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Tara Crescent is a writer of steamy romantic fiction. She believes in sassy submissives, firm Dominants, completely consensual relationships and happily-ever-afters! Her favorite kind of romance stories are ones that are somewhat believable.
In her spare time, Tara reads, gardens, cooks, and procrastinates about cleaning. From time to time, Tara blogs about what she's working on (and anything else that she finds interesting) at http://www.taracrescent.com. She lives in Toronto.
She is somewhat active on Facebook and Twitter, especially when the writing is going poorly.
Tara also writes sci-fi romance as Lili Zander. Check her books out at http://www.lilizander.com
Find Tara on:
@TaraCrescent
tara.crescent
www.taracrescent.com
[email protected]
Also by Tara Crescent
The Playing for Love Series (Contemporary Ménage MFM Romance):
Betting on Bailey
Gambling with Gabriella
Playing with Piper - Pre-order now!
Wagering on Wendy - coming Summer 2016!
Messing with Miki - coming Fall 2016!
The Girls Just Wanna Have Fun Series (Contemporary/BDSM Romance, Romantic Comedy)
A Touch of Blackmail
A Very Paisley Christmas
Boyfriend by the Hour - coming soon!
The Assassin’s Revenge Series (Romantic Suspense)
Assassin’s Revenge - The Complete Series
Found (Book 1)
Bought (Book 2)
Freed (Book 3)
Claimed (Book 4)
The Storm Series (Contemporary/BDSM Romance):
Storm Boxed Set (Episodes 1-5)
Which includes…
Storm: The Hottest Guy in Hollywood - A BDSM Romance (Storm Episode 1)
Storm: Kinky Valentine - A BDSM Romance (Storm Episode 2)
Storm: A Road to Forgiveness – A BDSM Romance (Storm Episode 3)
Storm: Tabloid Trouble – A BDSM Romance (Storm Episode 4)
Storm: Home is Where the Vibrator is (Storm Episode 5)
Nights in Venice Series (BDSM Romance):
A Thief in Venice (Nights in Venice Book 1)
An Heiress in Venice (Nights in Venice Book 2)
A Starlet in Venice (Nights in Venice Book 3)
Standalone BDSM Romance:
Teaching Maya
The House of Pain
The Professor’s Pet & follow-up short The Professor’s Girlfriend
The Audition
The Watcher
Chronicles of Raan Series (BDSM Fantasy):
Chronicles of Raan
Which includes:
FREE! Magic Everywhere (Chronicles of Raan Volume 1)
Raina’s Wedding (Chronicles of Raan Volume 2)
Leila’s Training (Chronicles of Raan Volume 3)
The Doctor Dom Series (BDSM & Medical Play):
Triage (Doctor Dom Volume 1)
Observation (Doctor Dom Volume 2)
Diagnosis (Doctor Dom Volume 3)
Relapse (Doctor Dom Volume 4)
Recovery (Doctor Dom Volume 5)
Or, buy the collections for a discount…
Doctor Dom Series Sequence One (Triage | Observation | Diagnosis)
Doctor Dom Series Sequence Two (Relapse | Recovery)
You can also keep track of my new releases by signing up for my mailing list!
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Betting on Bailey (Menage MfM Romance Novel) (Playing For Love Book 1) Page 25
