Page 23 of The Pretender

“We came here to play poker, didn’t we?”

Maverick grins, knowing when to leave me alone. “Yes, we did. So don’t cry when you’re two grand lighter tonight.”

I’m not fucking losing. Not while I’m in this mood. I push all my chips to the middle. “I’m all in.”

* * *

“Sebastian!”

Fuck, I did it again.

I roll out of bed with a groan and fall to the floor. The wood floors are cool against my skin. I could sleep a few more hours before class starts, if the banging would stop.

“It’s Brick! Your new cameraman. You know, the one you hired yesterday.”

The name sounds vaguely familiar. And then it hits me.

Last night.

I pull my hands close to my face and focus. The permanent marker is still there. A grin, the size of something really huge—I’m hungover, don’t judge me—tugs across my face as I remember bits and pieces of last night.

Her keys.

My failure of a video.

Her stupid bird feeder that she just had to hang in the tree that I park next to.

Her ‘Save the World’ attitude.

Her stupid texts.

All of it came to an explosion that ended up with another drunken idea.

“Sebastian?”

I spring from the floor, ignoring the pounding in my head, and wrench open the door to find my shiny new cameraman. He’s sober and has two coffees clutched in his hand.

I tip my head. “Hurry. Get your camera.” I literally pull him through the door and slam it shut.

“Hurry. She gets up at 7:30,” I bark, snagging one of the coffees and chugging.

“Who?”

I find a shirt on the sofa and pull it on. “Vee. My neighbor. Are you rolling yet?”

He fumbles with his camera bag, and I rush to the window, prepared to pull out my phone, just in case.

“I’m rolling. I’m rolling,” Brick says, out of breath and really flustered for a guy who seems like he has his life together. “Do you want to livestream this?”

I shake my head. “No. I want to go back and edit it later.” I can feel the warmth of the coffee making its way down to my stomach and staving off the hangover. Why does messing with Valentina bring such joy to my miserable soul?

“Where do you want me to set up?”

My last cameraman didn’t need this much instruction.

I push up the window above the kitchen sink. “Here.” I tap the sink.

Brick’s eyes widen before he cocks a brow. “You want me to set up next to the sink?”

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