Page 101 of Dating Goals
For five excruciating hours, I watched from the bar as he nearly lost everything during the first few hands, then clawed his way back with a series of lucky draws. I thought he was finishedwhen the Texan called his bluff. Griffin just sat there like a deer in headlights until the dealer started tapping the table.
Around 2 AM, when Griffin’s chip stack had dwindled to a pathetic little mound compared to Malcolm Chase’s towering fortress, the dealer finally announced the game would resume tomorrow at dusk.
“He’s down to what, fifteen percent of his original chips?” I scrunch my nose. “I don’t understand why his sponsor couldn’t find someone who actually knows how to play poker.”
Wilde’s mouth twitches in what might almost be a smile. “Don’t underestimate him just yet. They’re feeding him moves.”
“What do you mean…feeding him moves? He’s terrible.”
“Not necessarily. I’ve seen this strategy before. Malcolm Chase is feeling a little too overconfident right now. But when they resume the game tomorrow, I think you’ll see a whole different side of Griffin McGregor.”
“So you think someone is helping him cheat.”
His expression darkens. “Which is precisely why we need information on the woman who calls herself Elodie. What did you learn when you spoke to her?”
I snort. “Other than she’s beautiful, dangerous, and has her claws in Griffin? Nothing much. She shut down the conversation before I could get anything useful.”
“You kept her attention long enough for us to clone her phone. That’s all we needed.”
I blink. “Wait, you did what? When?”
“That’s classified.”
Of course it is.
Wilde taps his fingers on the table. “We need to know who they’re working for.”
“I thought you said they were spotted with the Swiss Secret Service earlier tonight.”
Wilde just scowls into his sparkling water.
“And what exactly does that woman want with Griffin anyway? I’ve seen the man trying to fight off two guys in my bar. Trust me, he’s no Chuck Norris.”
I take a sip of my water, hoping it might help me process the absurdity of this situation. I think about Griffin, his golden retriever enthusiasm, his ridiculous inspirational quotes. The man is basically a walking sunbeam. The idea of him involved in something sinister is ridiculous.
“I need you to get into her room,” Wilde says. “Find her devices, communications, anything that might give us some intel.”
I blink. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”
Wilde gives me a pointed look that makes my cheeks burn. “Through Mr. McGregor’s adjoining suite, of course.”
“No,” I say flatly. “Absolutely not.”
“You have his trust.”
“I am not seducing Griffin to get into Elodie’s room!” The couple at the next table glances over, and I lower my voice to a hiss. “That’s…that’s completely unethical!”
“I never said anything about seducing him.” Wilde hums as he studies my reaction. “Though your mind went there rather quickly, didn’t it? Interesting.”
“I…well…I only meant…” I stutter. “Just find someone else. Scratch that. Don’t find someone else. There will be nobody going into Griffin’s hotel room tonight or ever.”
“Miss Gisler, people’s lives depend on this. Including his.”
A chill runs through me. “You’re serious.”
“Deadly.” His eyes lock with mine. “I wouldn’t ask if there were another way.”
He reaches into his coat pocket and slides something across the table. “I’ve taken the liberty of booking you the suite across from his.”
