Page 108 of The Winslow Brothers

Apparently, when Vegas nightclub investors are trying to schmooze you, they pull out all the stops. Which includes an insanely large amount of free casino money to gamble with.

I tried to tell Judeno way, but he was persistent in convincing me it was okay to use the chips for whatever gambling desires I had.

“Babe, if we don’t use it, they’re going to give it to the next person they’re trying to get something out of it,”he’d said.“Trust me, the purpose of it is tospendit. Go play the tables or the slots. Just have fun and remember, it’s not your money or my money that you’re putting on the line. It’s the casino’s.”

Somehow, those words of his had given me permission enough to bring all these chips to the poker room without feeling the least bit guilty.

I’m not a huge fan of gambling, but Iloveplaying poker. The game of Texas Hold’em was instilled at a young age because my dad taught my sisters and me how to play. And although Belle and Katelynn pretty much hated it, it became my dad’s and my thing.

I can remember a lot of nights watching World Poker Tour events on television with him and listening to him analyze each player’s moves. There’s no doubt that Anthony Sage knows himself some poker, and frankly, if he were sitting here at this table, he’d run all five of these men right out of money.

Me, on the other hand, I still consider myself novice enough that I have to use other techniques to get an advantage. Actingcompletely cluelessbeing one of them.

The dealer deals the next round of cards, and I make a show of acting a little confused before folding my fifth hand since I sat down.

While the game continues, I pull my phone out of my purse and check my messages.

Belle appears busy enough with work that she’s not nagging me about not agreeing to meet her for lunch today. And things appear to be running smoothly for Julie.

So far, so good.

Of course, I can’t stop myself from sending a text message to the one person who has been on my mind since I sat down at this table.My dad.

Me: You’ll never believe what I’m doing right now. But when I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Mom or Katelynn or Belle where I am.

Besides being a fantastic father, he’s also the best damn secret vault of anyone I know. If you tell Anthony Sage something that you don’t want anyone to know about, he’ll take that secret to the grave.

Truthfully, it’s probably one of the reasons why I’ve always been closer with our dad and Belle has always been closer with our mom.

My mom is sweet as pie, but she handles things a lot like Belle—by getting all up in your personal space until you break. My dad, on the other hand, takes a subtler approach and just lets you know you can come to him about anything but doesn’t pry.

Katelynn always manages to land somewhere in the middle. Half like our mom and half like our dad.

Pops: You know I’ve got tight lips, Soph. Not even the Feds could break me.

I laugh. Truth is, I was probably going to tell him anyway—I feel the urge too strongly. But I really love his earnest effort to convince me.

Me: I’m in the Venetian’s Poker Room playing Texas Hold’em.

Pops: Tell me my daughter is running the table, and I’ll be a happy guy.

I grin.

Me: I just sat down, but that’s the plan.

Pops: You using the sweet and innocent act?

Me: Oh yeah.

Pops: That’s my girl.

Me: Love you, Dad.

Pops: Love you too, Soph. Call me sometime soon, yeah? Maybe even come out to Miami and see your mom and me. I’ll make sure she makes the good fajitas. The ones with the steak from San Pedro’s.

Me: I’m hoping to get out to Miami in April or May, but the promise of fajitas smells like April.

Pops: Good. Can’t wait to see you.

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