Page 22 of Harry

She laughed shakily, strangely comforted by the fierce expression on his face. “I do agree.”

“Good.” He grinned at her and releasing her hand straightened off her desk. “I will leave you to it then. See you later.”

“David?” Her voice stopped him as he reached the door.

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

His smile beamed at her. “You’re welcome.”

Staring at her computer, she thought for a moment before shaking her head and going back to work. They were right, she had two babies growing inside her to think about. In another few months she was going to be delivering twins.

She could not think about the father and his hang ups anymore. She had tried to be there for him, but he didn’t want to be helped. Harry McGibbon preferred to wallow in self-pity and awful memories. She couldn’t help him.

*****

“You’re on a winning streak.”

“Aren’t I always?” Harry squinted through the fragrant smoke curling upwards from the cigar clamped at the sides of his mouth. He had left the housing project in the late afternoon and decided to crash at the club for the night.

And he was still here. He just might spend another night. His mother had been calling, but aside from a curt text, he had notanswered. He wanted to forget everything for a while. To just chill out and pretend that he did not have the world on his shoulders.

“And you’re smoking. I thought you’d quit that damn habit.”

“I took it up again. What’s it to you?” He growled as Liam took a seat across from him and reached for his hand of cards. “We’re playing high stakes poker, so if you’re too delicate to handle it, I suggest you leave.”

Liam arranged his cards carefully and waited for the laughter to cease before responding.

“I have it on very good authority that you cheated that last time.”

Harry sent him a narrow-eyed look before grounding his cigar into the crystal ashtray that had been placed there for his convenience. He would play cards and lose some, win a few and have dinner in one of the dining rooms and probably take upthe invitation being thrown at him from a woman he had been briefly involved with at one time.

“You want to say that again? This time outside?”

Liam shrugged elegant shoulders, a smile flitting around his beautiful lips. “I said it here in the company of our friends – or most of our friends…,” his eyes touched on a banker by the name of Donovan Griffith, a slightly distasteful look on his handsome face. “So that there would be no bloodshed. I happen to know you fight dirty.”

“I would not want you to forget that. Now shut the bloody hell up and show us what you got.”

*****

“Mind if I join you?”

Before he could say otherwise, the man was already pilling out a chair and gesturing to the waiter who hurried over to take his order. “The filet mignon, my good man and make sure it’s rare.” Liam’s blue eyes met his across the table, mischief twinkling in them. “Thanks for letting me win back there. I was starting to feel humiliated.”

“I didn’t let you win!” Harry was busy with his own meal, a gourmet combination of beef soaked in wine and wild rice. “You were becoming a pain in the ass, more so than usual.”

“I think I will use the money – minus the bit for charity and buy my lovely wife a trinket.”

“Doesn’t she have more than enough?”

His friend laughed softly as he picked up the wine that had been poured for him. They were in one of the main dining rooms that led off to a balcony and with a spectacular view of the golf course, one of several. Even though it was cold, there were still a few die-hards out on the course, concentrating on a game.

“She does. But I do so love showering her with glitters. I love the look on her face when I bring her something else. It is priceless.” He took a contemplative sip of his wine and savored it on his tongue.

“Excellent vintage. Like I was saying, my darling who in the former life had been a con artist, really hates being heaped with gifts. It is amazing actually.” He mused. “I have to ask her if it was something she had stolen from a mark, would it have been much more thrilling to own.”

Harry gave him an amused look. “I cannot figure you out at all. Are you proud of what she was?”

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