Page 83 of High Roller

When we reach Lili’s door, I punch in the first digit of the code, but Grace smacks me. “We can be polite and knock.”

“You’re lucky you’re holding the food, butterfly. See what happens if you hit me again.”

The threat is playful, and Grace blushes prettily and squirms away from me. She’s right, though, so I reach up and knock on the door.

Lili calls for us to come in.

She seems surprised that both of us are there.

“We brought food, and I thought we could have dinner together,” Grace offers.

“I suppose that’s about as close to fun as I’m going to get in here. Come in.”

We settle in the sitting area of the suite and spread the food out on the coffee table. It’s quiet as we assemble sandwiches, but Lili finally breaks the silence.

“Any updates on when I’ll be moving?”

I nod. “We’re hoping to move you sooner rather than later and are assessing the safest ways to move you. How would you react to riding out underneath a pile of dirty linens?”

Grace looks like she wants to smack me again, but refrains. I reach over and squeeze her thigh as Lili stares at me, trying to decide how serious I am.

“Sounds like something out of a spy movie. It would be a good story to tell my grandkids someday.”

“Lili, our linens are usually covered in… various bodily fluids,” Grace says with a disgusted look on her face.

Lili laughs. “I would hope I would at least be offered something clean to wrap up in.”

“Why are we even having this conversation?” I snap as I finish a bite of sandwich. “We haven’t decided if that’s the right way to move you. Owen has an entirely different idea.”

“You wanted to get a rise out of me by asking what I thought about it. And you didn’t get the reaction you wanted, so now you’re annoyed and bored with the conversation.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Think you know me that well, do you?”

Lili shrugs. “My husband does the same thing.”

She’s baiting me. Exactly as I baited her. I have to clench my fists to keep from responding. The very idea of being compared to that monster makes my blood boil. Grace senses it because she reaches over and squeezes shoulder.

“Victor, did you know Grace writes erotica?”

Grace’s mouth drops open. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

I drape an arm around her shoulder. “Grace has been writing for as long as I’ve known her.”

“Look at us sitting here trying to get a reaction out of each other. I apologize. Thank you for the food. Forgive me for blurting that out, Grace.”

“He already knew. It’s fine,” Grace says. “I was just surprised.”

“Now if you tell me she let you read something she wrote, that will get a reaction from me. Even for as long as I’ve known her, she won’t let me.” I say winking at Grace.

“Oh Grace, share it with him. It would be a good bonding activity for this new phase in your relationship.”

Grace buries her face in her hands. “Can we stop talking about me, please?” She jumps up after a beat of silence and looks around the room. “Let’s play a game. We’ve got some fun ones here.”

I’ve never understood why we have a game collection here, but it never fails on a Saturday night when people are done playing in the dungeon, a group will wind up at the tables around the bar playing games and laughing. I usually avoid it like the plague.

But Grace looks excited about the prospect, and I’ve found I enjoy making her smile, so I nod. “Fine. Go get something, butterfly.”

She grins and heads for the door. “Be right back.”

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