Page 29 of Inflame

Claire raises and I call. The dealer reveals a jack on the turn.

I toss in a few chips, Claire re-raises.

“All in,” I say, staring her straight in the eyes.

She smiles a grin so wicked that it sends a jolt to my dick. “I call.”

The dealer helps us manage the chips. Claire has a slight lead. The dealer turns over Claire’s cards to reveal a pair of twos. She has a fucking four-of-a-kind. I let out all of the breath I am holding. The dealer flips mine and shows my pair of kings. The only way I can win this hand is to get another king, and it might not even be possible if another player folded the last one.

I watch with bated breath as the dealer burns and reveals the river card—an ace.

“You won,” the guy beside Claire says joyously, touching her on her back.

I watch as she tenses and shakes out of his hold.

“Let me buy you a drink to celebrate,” he says.

I am going to hit something. He needs to freaking back away from her. I start to stand, mentally preparing myself to get into an altercation.

“They are free,” she says with a scowl.

Attagirl. Let him know how lame he sounds. She gathers her chips and spends time stacking them back up. I am out, but I stay so I can watch her secure her victory at the table. As long as she keeps forcing the other two players to go all in, she will eventually be able to get lucky enough to get the cards needed to win.

And after just two rounds, she does.

I slide over to join her. “Congrats. You played very well.”

She cashes out and hands me her earnings. “This money isn’t mine.”

I shake my head. “Yeah, it is. You won it. Plus, you get to enjoy strippers without Graham going ballistic and bum rushing the place. You might need some of the extra cash for paying off those greasy testosterone junkies.”

Claire narrows her eyes over my colorful description. “I at least owe you what you paid for me to join the table. I feel really weird taking this money when it wasn’t mine to start with.”

“Use it for the trip. Everything costs more in a high touristy area like this. Just add it to your spending money and have fun. I want you to have it."

“I appreciate it.” She pulls out her phone from her handbag and looks at the screen. She mumbles a few curse words and places the phone to her ear. “Hi.” There is a long pause and I can hear the demeaning tone from the caller. “I never posted any pictures. What are you talking about? How am I responsible for what Angie does? This is her party weekend and she’s excited, so she probably uploaded an album. No. Whatever. You’re just looking for a scapegoat and making me one because it’s convenient.” There’s a long pause and then I swear I hear a sniffle. “I’m sorry, Ethan, for raising my voice.”

I take a few steps to the side and pull out my phone to keep myself from looking like I am listening to Ethan give Claire an earful. I log on to my fake social media account and find Angie’s profile. A couple of hours ago, she posted a few pictures from our trip thus far. A group shot from the plane, a photo in the suite of her and Graham, and then the picture at the Botanical Gardens of just me and Claire. I can understand how assumptions can be made from just the single photo, but Ethan is very insecure.

Claire sighs. “I said sorry. Why won’t you accept my apology?”

Why is she apologizing to the bastard? He’s wrong.

“Fine, then don’t add money to my debit card, Ethan. Punish me for something I have no control over. Yes, I want you to come. I don’t know what else you want me to do. Beg?” Claire says into the phone. “I will chat with you—” She looks down at the phone and then up to me. “He hung up on me.”

I don’t know what to say that would be fractionally appropriate. What I want to say and what I should say are two very different things. “Maybe we should head back up to the suite and get some rest. Tomorrow everything will be fresh again.”

Claire nods and we head out of the casino.

8

CLAIRE

My phone buzzes again from my bag and I retrieve it, sliding the answer bar to accept the call. “Hello.”

“I can’t believe you hung up on me,” Ethan snaps.

I close my eyes as I try to keep my temper in check. It never bodes well for me to get Ethan so irate that he threatens to break up. “I didn’t hang up. You must have.” He is throwing a fit over nothing.

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