Page 84 of Gambler's Fallacy

Fear threatens to overwhelm me at the idea of him leaving me here, and I want to beg him to let me go back to the room.

Or to the blackjack tables.

I know he won’t, though. If I can’t work, he’ll assume I need to be trapped upstairs with Nacho and Miss K.

“Okay,” I croak.

He squeezes my hand one last time, then I’m left alone with Georgie and a woman I don’t recognize.

I turn to face her, trying not to let the blind panic show on my expression. I’m acting like such a child.

“Okay, since I now have a second set of hands…” Georgie waves me over. “Hold this in place while I find more pins.”

The woman groans. “You sadist. You really do want to poke me with needles.”

I force a smile and go to her, holding the fabric in place.

The two of them chat while I stand there, obeying Georgie’s orders. My mind wanders to the casino floor, where I could chat with Nat or Madeline while trying my luck, but I force myself to focus before I’m the one being jabbed with pins.

It isn’t as bad as being in Linda’s presence, but it’s still not comfortable, and I’d rather be anywhere but here.

Well.

Almost anywhere.

The thought makes me shiver, and I force myself to focus on the work.

I’ll stay here as long as I have to, then I can escape to the tables.

Maybe then my day will finally get better.

EIGHTEEN

VORTEX

The VIP seatingfor the fight is packed, with most of the audience dressed in suits and cocktail dresses like this is a fancy fundraiser and not an MMA match. The pre-match meet-and-greets went off without a hitch, although Seven had been too anxious to get anywhere near the fighters.

I casually stretch out my arm along the back of Seven’s seat. Havoc glares at me when my hand brushes his shoulder, but I ignore him.

Caleb is on my other side, tapping on his phone. He’s more concerned with the logistics than with the actual matches.

“I’m betting on Haley Smokes for the first match,” Havoc says. “She’s been upping her game all season.”

“No betting,” Caleb says immediately. “Employees aren’t allowed to bet.”

“He isn’t really going to bet,” Seven says. He’s still subdued and has been ever since Trent found him far too close to the balcony railing, but he offers a smile anyway. “Right, Havoc?” He eyes him. “I mean, if you did, you wouldn’t be able to tell Caleb.”

“I just mean, casually,” Havoc replies with a roll of his eyes. “Between us. The only prize is the satisfaction of me being right.”

“You being wrong,” I interject with a grin. “Because Persephone Peterson is going to kick Haley’s ass. I talked to Persi earlier, and she’s out for blood.”

“Of course you two don’t even agree on a sports thing,” Seven remarks.

Before I can get concerned about that, though, he pokes me in the side.

“It’s fine. I’m only joking. You don’t have to agree on sports things,” Seven adds, looking between us.

I’m more relieved than I want to be. I know Seven doesn’t like us treating him like a delicate flower, but lately, I’ve been worried about causing another incident. Even him being here with us feels like an unnecessary risk with his family poking around, but Havoc had said that Seven had liked the last match.

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