Page 49 of Reckless Pawn

No one else asked for companionship and the requests for food and drink had slowed. The number of players were beginning to dwindle and my two tables had combined as players lost and won. With no clocks on the walls and no cell phones allowed by employees on the floor, I was starting to feel a little antsy when Sam pulled his phone from his pocket. Fortunately, for me I was close enough to see the time display which read three-thirty a.m.

"Hey, darling," Sam said. "You're looking a little beat. Why don't you take a seat and lend me some more of that good luck of yours?"

"You sure you want to test fate like that again? I think that last time was a fluke."

He patted the seat next to him. "I think I'll take my chances."

Well, one thing he was right about. I was feeling a little tired. The thing with Houston still weighed on me and the whole reason I came here wasn't exactly working. I still couldn't keep him off my mind.

"Here, this is for you." Sam handed me a poker chip. I flipped it over in my hand a couple of times before I realized it was worth a thousand dollars. My eyes widened.

"Sam, I can't accept this."

"Sure you can. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have won it. Now be a good girl and put it in your pocket before you lose it."

His fatherly words made me smile. While it was true he was old enough to be my father, the truth was, he wasn't. That title was held by a man who didn't want it. I felt a little crack open up in my facade, letting some of the anger and resentment I carried slip outside my carefully constructed walls.

"Take it, Isabella. You earned it."

My head jerked at Sam's use of my full name. A name he shouldn't know.

He must have registered the shock and questions in my eyes because he leaned forward and lowered his voice.

"We may not be in Seattle anymore, beautiful, but an hour away isn't far enough to keep your secret. I'm also not the only one here who knows your father. Frank's a high stakes gambler as are many in this room. That's a smaller circle than you might think."

A deep chill swept over me. I didn't want to consider what Sam might be implying with his words. I glanced around the room looking for familiar faces.

"I don't think anyone else has realized."

"How can you be so sure?" I whispered.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm pretty good at reading people."

The dealer called for the final bet on the latest round and Sam returned his attention back to the game while I sat there with my heart in my throat as I worried about my father's considerable desire for retaliation.

"Izzy?"

Hearing Sam call my nickname snapped me out of my head as I turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry I brought it up. I didn't mean to worry you," Sam said.

After clearing my throat I shook my head and pasted a smile on my face despite the dread having taken up residence in my throat. "Not worried. Now where were we?"

His lips turned up slightly as he held up a chip. "You were going to kiss this one for good luck."

I schooled my face to hide my shock at the fact he was about to lay down a ten thousand dollar chip and was asking for my luck. It wasn't the dollar amount that scared me as much as the fact he was relying on my nonexistent mojo to win for him.

Still, he was the client and wishing him luck was far from hard. So I bent forward and pressed my lips to the plastic chip. "Good luck," I whispered.

This time I was right.

The players showed their cards and Sam lost. The pit in my stomach sunk deeper as the winner stacked up all of his winnings.

I touched Sam's arm. "I guess my luck has run out."

"You got that right."

I froze at the angry words uttered behind me.

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