Page 25 of All In

10

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Rylee drained a bottle of water as the SUV pulled in to the parking garage at the convention center where the tournament was taking place. Like an idiot, she'd let irritation with Memphis cloud her judgement and Carla had gotten her more than a little drunk on the strip yesterday.

Now she was facing a tournament with a hangover. Though thanks to Memphis, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. When she'd finally arrived home last night, a nurse with an IV of vitamins and fluids had been waiting for her along with a note from Memphis telling her not to argue.

"Miss Colton, I see a crowd at the entrance and there could be reporters among them. Stay close please and let us get you through it."

Rylee nodded as she tossed the empty bottle onto the seat beside her.

One member of the security team stepped out and opened her door while the other waited at the back of the vehicle. She knew for a fact there was another SUV of men behind them, but she wasn't sure if they would follow her in or not.

As they approached the entrance, three people who were clearly reporters emerged from the crowd.

"Miss Colton, is it true Memphis Foster paid to have the poker tournament moved so you could play in it while he took his Mistress back to Arizona?"

She rolled her eyes and did her best not to smack the mini recorder out of the reporter's hand.

"Miss Colton has no comment," one of the men beside her said as he pushed past the reporters and led her into the stream of tourists pouring into the building.

"How the fuck did they know which entrance I was going to use?"

"They likely have people at each of the main entrances ma'am," the nameless man on her right said.

Once they were fully inside the lobby of the convention center, she took a deep breath. She could do this. It was just like any other tournament. She'd done this dozens of times.

After checking in, she found a chair in a corner and put in her earbuds. Her mind was working overtime, but she managed to get through a round of deep breathing exercises before she opened her eyes again and looked around the room. There were a number of people missing from this tournament that she viewed as the heavy competition, so that should make it easy to get to the final table. As Rylee sat examining the other competitors roaming the room and socializing, someone dropped into the empty chair next to her.

"Hey, Colton. Rumor has it you're leaving the circuit to marry a rich guy."

She frowned at Jeff Harris, a player she'd faced at the final table a number of times over the years. "Where the hell did you hear that?"

Jeff shrugged. "Just telling you what the gossip is. Apparently, your mystery man paid to make sure this tournament happened so you could play in it before the wedding and it's going to be your last one."

Standing, she pulled out a pair of sunglasses and slipped them on.

"Don't believe the gossip, Jeff. There were rumors about you and me a couple years ago that weren't true, or don't you remember."

Jeff shrugged. "Maybe they weren't true, but I wish they were."

Rylee tried to keep her expression neutral as she grabbed her bag and backed away.

"Good luck today, Jeff. Maybe we'll meet at the end."

As she walked away from Jeff, her stomach felt as if it were tied in knots. She tried to blame it on the alcohol from the night before, but knew it was from nerves.

When it was time to take her place at the first table, she did her best to put Memphis, Andrew, and everything else out of her mind. All the mattered were the cards on the table in front of her. But it wasn't that easy. After fumbling three hands in a row, she knew the day wasn't going to go as planned.

After a break, she was able to get her head in the game and focus. By lunch, the tournament was down to five tables from the original fifteen that it started with.

Rylee pushed away from the table for her lunch break and was immediately flanked by two of the security team she knew had been lurking nearby.

"What would you like to do for lunch, Miss Colton?"

Rylee looked at her phone intent on checking the time. But there was a missed call from Memphis.

"Excuse me," she said to the men before stepping toward a back corner of the room as she lifted the phone to her ear.

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