Page 2 of Gamble with Me
As a thirty-year-old woman, I couldn't understand why I allowed it to go so far. I should've left him when he stole the money for the first time. But I believed in second chances, and he acted like a perfect husband for months. I let him fool me, and now I was paying the price for my own naivety and stupidity.
"You have to put it to an end, Val," Alice said gently, taking my hand and squeezing it supportively. "Think about Zara."
"I know," I breathed, the image of my sweet, smiling baby girl appearing in front of my eyes.
Before I could say more, one of the casino managers burst through the door, disheveled and angry.
"C'mon, girls!" he whined, making Alice giggle. Mr. Travis Wright was temperamental, enthusiastic, and highly reliable, but he hated it when someone was late. "Don't tell me you feel bad, Valeria. Marion just called saying she won't make it here today."
I watched as he placed his hand on his lips, with his green eyes glued to my face. In his dark suit with a white button-up shirt and black bow tie, he looked extremely professional. He’d returned to New York after working in Las Vegas, and because of his experience in the most renowned poker rooms there, the owner made him a manager straightaway. At only twenty-six years old, he was superior to much older employees, yet he gained respect from everyone. He was terrific at his job.
"I'm okay, Travis," I reassured him, standing up. He insisted we call him by his first name, and even when it felt slightly odd initially, we all got used to it after a few months.
"Perfect. We need to cover Marion's position for tonight," he announced, glancing at me. "Take care of the tournament, Valeria. I'll send Linda to oversee the blackjack tables."
"Is it a good idea?" I asked in a raised voice, and he lifted his eyebrows in confusion. "I've never done it before."
"Valeria," he sighed, coming closer to me. He put his hands on my shoulders in a fatherly way, making me slightly uncomfortable by his overly friendly approach. "You have worked here for years. You are an excellent manager who knows how to handle things. You'll be great."
"But—" I whispered, staring wide-eyed into his handsome, tired face. I noticed freckles on his nose and a small wrinkle between his eyebrows.
"No buts, Valeria," he cut me off, shaking his head. "You are in charge of the poker tournament."
"Fine," I exhaled, realizing it may not be as bad as it looked at first sight. I surely wasn't in the right mind to work with tipsy millionaires who came here to throw their wealth around.
"Perfect." He clapped his hands enthusiastically and waved at me to follow him. I glanced at Alice, who winked at me and left in the other direction. She worked at the roulette table tonight.
With my heart beating somewhere in my throat, I listened to all the instructions, and when Travis left, I prepared everything I thought I would need during the game. Overseeing the tournament in our casino wasn't such a big deal, but one could never be sure. I expected around fifty players to come competing for the fifteen thousand guaranteed money, yet there was still a chance more would show up.
During the evening, everything went smoothly. Players were polite, and a few who knew me for years congratulated me on the new position. I didn't have the energy to explain that it was only temporary, and they seemed to take my smile as a thank you.
Around eleven o'clock, when the registration for the tournament was almost closed, I noticed a man coming to my table. The casino's bright lights and golden decor often blinded me, so I didn't see his face. Only when he stood just a couple of feet away from me could I take him in.
He was dressed in a simple red shirt and blue jeans with white sneakers, yet he looked like he didn't belong there. Many people around me wore casual clothes, but they looked like bad advertisements compared to him. The shirt hugged his muscled chest and shoulderstightly, leaving nothing to the imagination. His right arm was tattooed to the last inch, and only his fingers stayed untouched. A huge golden watch on his wrist screamed luxury, and a few expensive bracelets only confirmed he probably was in the wrong place. The big game was in the VIP lounge.
"Good evening," he said, flashing me a million-dollar smile. I involuntarily sighed. He surely had this effect on every woman. His face was exquisite with his perfectly chiseled jaw, covered in day-long stubble, high cheekbones, and big hazel eyes framed by long eyelashes. A darker shade of his skin made the piercings in his ears shine, and the silver chain around his neck was just icing on the delicious cake. He was total eye candy and every woman's fantasy.
"Hello." I smiled, doing my best to act professional, but he made it really tough. "How can I help you?"
I was still sure he had made a wrong turn and should be in a lounge when he handed me a small golden card indicating paid buy-in into the tournament.
"I need a place to sit," he replied, still giving me that irresistible grin that made my insides flutter.
"Table three, position seven," I stated without breathing, avoiding eye contact with him. He didn't say more and plopped on the chair right next to my table. I didn't realize the place was only two feet from me.
Nervously, I gathered all the golden cards, feeling like I was being watched, but when I looked around, no one paid attention to me. The handsome stranger looked bored. He made tricks with chips, with his palm supporting his head, and watched TV in the opposite corner. I felt weirdly disappointed that I didn't make as great a first impression as he did. But I instantly almost slapped myself. I was a married woman with a child who had to solve her own problems first. Drooling over a good-looking man wasn't high on my list right now.
The music announced the end of the last level and a forty-minute break, and players scattered between the slot machines and live game tables. I stayed behind my counter, counting entries, when someone approached me, throwing shadows on my notes.
"Do you have time for a chat, Miss Redhead?"
I raised my head from the screen, staring at the tall figure towering over me. I leaned into my seat, narrowing my eyes at him. He was one massive, uniquely attractive man. Over six feet of pure muscles, in combination with a charming smile and innocent look, made him irresistible. However, I wasn't some thirteen-year-old schoolgirl.
"It's Mrs., and my name is Valeria," I corrected him, watching his smile widen.
"I'll take that as yes then, Valeria," he said, moving the chair to my table, turning it around and straddling it. He rested his arms on the backrest, his vast biceps flexing with every move.
"What can I do for you, Mr…" I lifted an eyebrow at him, and he took the hint.
