Reckless Gamble: a billionaire high stakes suspense romance (City Sinners Book 4)

by Kenna Shaw Reed

  “Fuck,” I wheezed. Damn it, so distracted by studying GG, Jason stole my chips on what should have been an easy hand. Jason, of course, thought he’d played smart and hard. GG probably didn’t even bat an eyelid behind those stupid dark glasses.

  Says the guy also wearing shades.

  Time to change tact, I started going hard against other players but folding when GG entered the fray. Respecting my stack, I needed to figure out who she reminded me of—or where we’d met before—then I could take her on, again.

  “That’s a night!” Carlos conceded, handing me my meager reward before leaving the table. Hiding his pride behind a graceful bow. “The reputation of mankind rests on your shoulders, my man.”

  “A responsibility completely undeserved.”

  I took a moment to consolidate my short stack, mentally counting how many blinds my chips could survive before GG took me out.

  Despite being time for everyone to bug out and get a life, none of the eliminated players had left the penthouse suite. A wall of men lined the far wall, half of them waiting me to take the bitch out while the others willed me to become another notch on her belt.

  Nerves tried to take hold, but as the cards were dealt, I controlled my breathing and remembered back to all the other games where I’d defied the odds, and had come back from a much smaller stack.

  I hadn’t come here to lose.

  Ignore the woman and play the game.

  One last deep, cleansing breath and I mentally slapped my face several times. Play the game, win the money and figure out who the hell GG was after the game.

  The dealer looked to GG, who seemed to examine me longer than her cards. Then looking up, studying our audience, before me again and then her cards. What the hell? It was a call. Yes, the first call of our second, final-two showdown, but still it was one call.

  With time to burn, I glanced down. Yep, the two Aces were still waiting for their moment in the sun.

  In slow motion, GG looked up again, lay her cards face down and with fingertips on each arm of her glasses, tipped them up. The first time I saw her eyes across the table. Gorgeous violet orbs. Almost as dark as her iris.

  “Pass.”

  I almost fucking passed out.

  The woman from the restaurant.

  Mason’s behavioral witchcraft consultant.

  “Do I know you?” I chanced in the seconds before her glasses resumed their rightful place, hiding her lying, thieving eyes.

  “Isn’t the question, do you want to?”

  “All in.”

  Two Pair

  GG

  It had to happen eventually, but why tonight?

  Why did he have to turn up tonight and mess with my head, my heart and my hormones?

  Why did I give him a hint?

  Damn!

  Damn!

  And double damn!

  Poker face to the ready, I’d held my smile longer than my last little stack of chips lasted. Holding one back, I twirled it through my fingers before flicking it to the victor.

  Damn him.

  “Congratulations.” I needed to work on my sincerity, but at least I said the word without gritted teeth.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had to work so hard to even up the books,” Scott deadpanned. Was that a not-so-subtle wise crack about my consultancy work? If so, who was he to judge? If it wasn’t for stupid assholes, I’d be unemployed.

  “I look forward to the next time we meet.”

  “No more surprises in store for me?”

  I couldn’t help it. Chin dipped, my eyes looked up through heavy mascara, “I think you’ve seen everything I’ve got.”

  Our audience oohed and aahed, encouraging us to find a bed, or sell tickets so they could watch. Scott didn’t care, they hadn’t even rated a silent acknowledgement.

  “Not everything, but I’m willing to take some of this extra cash to buy you breakfast.”

  Not my first offer. I even had a book full of planned retorts. Everything from, only a man who takes me to bed can buy me breakfast, to a timeless, isn’t breakfast the cheapest meal of the day.

  None seemed appropriate for the moment, so I tried honesty on for size. Maybe, one day it would fit.

  “It’s already two am. I need to get some sleep before I start a new job.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “Nothing you should be worried about.” My secret tried to stab my heart with a thousand little stiletto pricks. He could out me, here and now. He could make a scene; rumors would grow and someone would know someone in Melbourne. Within hours at worst, days at best, my ex-husband would hear the news and borrow enough money to get on a plane.

  The chill invading my veins was knowing my ex-husband could be the least of my problems. He, I could deal with. His enemies? If they claimed me as his security, I’d never be able to run fast enough to hide.

  “Then let me buy you a coffee downstairs, there’s so much about your new job that I’d like to know.”

  The world started spinning again. Naturally. Somewhere an angel had extra time to protect someone more deserving.

  “Fine.”

  Shrugging off my relief, I left Scott at the table to collect my jacket and bag from the other room. By the time I returned, the rest of the players had enveloped him into a masculine version of the group hug. Fist pumping and back slapping their new hero.

  Nothing I’d never seen before. Men were so predictably gullible. The natural order of the world had been restored with my defeat. What they didn’t realize was Scott’s victory made them all more reckless and vulnerable the next time I played. Having seen me beaten once, they would crave to be the next.

  Whatever.

  “What does that do to your plans?” Jarryd asked quietly as he walked me to the door.

  “It’s a bit of a set-back.”

  “But it’s good for my business—it shows you can be beaten and there’s a few players in town who think they are better than Scott. Thanks to tonight, I’ll fill as many tables as I want.”

  “Why do they think they’re better than Scott?”

  Yes, he’d won the cash tonight, and I hadn’t seen many weaknesses. He played a solid game. Didn’t bet from emotion or frustration. Refused to be goaded into betting more than his hand deserved. But if others thought they could beat him, then I’d have to reset my strategy for next time.

  “He went through a rough patch, but I’d say that’s over now.”

  “Anything I should know about?”

  Jarryd blocked my path to the door. Taking a moment to size me up as he would a prize fighter before stepping into the ring. Not like a woman, or even with his usual flirty grin. He took his time before replying. Each word purposefully selected and carefully enunciated, “Do me a favor and if you’re only going to play with him, don’t. Scott’s a good guy and deserves better than a brunette with boobs playing with him like her puppet.”

  “I don’t do that.”

  “You haven’t with the others, which is why you’re still welcome at my table. I don’t mind you having your stage persona, but I don’t allow personal shit at my table.”

  Before I could respond and defend not only my reputation but my character, Scott intervened. Standing between us, easily but ready to pick sides, “All good?”

  “Fine.” I squeezed Jarryd’s arm. “We were just making sure that losing to you tonight didn’t put me off coming to Jarryd’s next game.”

  Letting me pass, Jarryd leaned towards Scott, whispering so I could barely hear, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Larissa can organize coffee in the room I used as an office. You don’t need to do this.”

  “It’s all good. GG has been avoiding a certain conversation, and tonight’s the night I’m calling her on her bullshit.”

  “As long as you don’t do anything stupid.”

  Scott scoffed and raised his voice until the entire room could hear without even trying, “Next time I do something stupid, it won’t be over a bloody woma
n. It’ll probably be buying an overpowered motorcycle or climbing up a rock face without ropes.”

  “Sounds exciting, ready to tell me more?” My turn to play to the audience as I linked arms and took another step towards the open door.

  “Why the fuck not.”

  He didn’t look at me or attempt small conversation.

  Not in the elevator which took eternity to plummet the thirty-six floors. Not in his rush to direct me to the twenty-four-hour café on the ground floor. Not even when the waitress took her time taking our separate orders.

  No gentle inquiry to what I wanted. Although he did mutter something about taking three cubes of sugar in my coffee.

  Automatically, I claimed the far chair at the back table. Full visibility of the hotel foyer, café entrance and the wait staff making our breakfast. No one paid me unusual or uncomfortable attention.

  Breathe.

  An impossible ask when I was about to be outed to a man who owed me no favors—all because I couldn’t keep my brain engaged when he looked at me.

  “So, do I call you GG or Carlynn?”

  Scott moved the grilled mushrooms around his plate as if they were personally offensive. Stabbing one only to layer it with a carefully crafted slice of sausage, hash brown and fried egg. I preferred to eat each of my elements separately. Perhaps dipping an edge into the runny yolk.

  Little differences.

  “Depends in which context. As a card player, I’d prefer to keep to GG.”

  “What does it stand for?”

  Not the second question I’d expected. For the last three months, I’d avoided answering, but with Scott? Why the hell not. The truth could only set me free, build a level of trust or comradery between us.

  “When I first started playing, I kept hearing GG and thought the guys were mocking me. Then when I found out it stood for good game, I started using it as my nickname and it became a persona—the whole black look and heavy makeup.”

  “A stage name for a stage presence.”

  “I guess, all of you have expensive shoes and tailored suits. I can’t compete with your wallets, so I walk in making an entrance.”

  “You do at that.” Could that have been his first genuine smile flung my way? If his smiles were going to be my kryptonite, I’d prefer he go back to blank or angry stares. My knees and brain couldn’t cope with warmth.

  “Is this going to be a problem for you—I mean with my contract at Softli.”

  “Who is Carlynn Rush?” Scott ignored my question for one I’d expected.

  “I changed my name after my marriage exploded.”

  “That sounds a little dramatic.”

  “It felt so at the time, but I can’t stress how important it is to keep my two names and lives separate.”

  “Tell me why?”

  I glanced again at the foyer entrance and doorway. Norman had promised to give me a heads up if rumors surfaced. My uncle’s latest cryptic messages gave me hope, but I knew everything could change in an instant.

  “I’m sorry.” I only hoped Scott wouldn’t be as forensic about my past as he was about cards and numbers. Shaking my head, I couldn’t even look at him until receiving his reassurance. “Please believe me, I wish it wasn’t a big deal. But can I still rely on your discretion?”

  Scott could name his price and I wouldn’t baulk. I’d throw games or take out a loan. Okay, I wouldn’t give him a pass on the Softli contract. I needed someone like Mason in my corner to build a reputation in Sydney.

  Anything else, he could name it. I’d make it happen. Or die trying.

  “How do you like your eggs?”

  Changing the subject threw me for a loop. No man had messed with my mind like Scott Alexander.

  “I prefer the egg whites. I can almost feel the protein giving me energy.”

  “You had whole eggs for breakfast.”

  “I didn’t want to be difficult.”

  “The woman who asks for three ice cubes and three slices of lime—make that three thin slices of lime in her drink, doesn’t want to be difficult?” He snorted. The gorgeous bastard laughed so hard he snorted.

  I was fighting for my life and he almost split his sides laughing at my expense. No one in Sydney knew I’d changed my surname to hide from my ex. No one even suspected GG was only a recent nickname. In googling names, I found out Carlynn meant good. Adopting Rush as my surname meant my card playing nickname was Good Game while my new real name meant Good Rush.

  My personal joke on the world—but I’d only live long enough to enjoy it if Scott kept my secret.

  “Did you really invite me to breakfast to talk about cubes of ice?”

  “You make it incredibly difficult for me to concentrate on the cards.” His hands clasped together on the table, fingers tapping together, and smoky eyes matched his lower tone. “What’s the rest of your story.”

  “Incredibly boring, you’ve seen everything of interest.” Panic and hormones collided. I tried to maintain the same composure that made me thousands at the table. Except, my life was on the line. Except this man in front of me had the insane way of making me want to forget staying safe and walk out on the ledge with him.

  Except, the longer he tapped those manicured fingers, the more I wanted to place each one to my tongue. What would it feel like to suck his fingers clean, here? My back was to the wall, his back was to the staff. No one would hear his moans and if my foot raised up a little, I could massage—

  No.

  I needed sleep. I needed my head read.

  I needed him to allow me to keep my lives separate.

  “Can I count on your discretion?”

  “What’s in it for me?” Scott asked, leaning back in his chair, confident without the arrogance he held before wiping out an opponent. I hated when men or anyone thought they held all the cards—in life or at the table. Still, too much relied on Scott being agreeable.

  “How about because it’s the right thing to do. I didn’t have to come back to the game or raise my glasses. I trusted you.”

  Shit, I’d just handed him my life and he didn’t give a damn. Perhaps, I deserved whatever happened. Too stupid to live.

  “What does it mean for your work at Softli.”

  Again, a subject change, except this one should have been expected. I motioned to the waitress for more coffee. There was no way I’d be getting any sleep tonight. By stocking up on caffeine now, I could leave the office by mid-afternoon and crash.

  “Do we have to talk about that now?” My reputation as a consultant was only as good as my last client. It had taken three months to land my first Sydney based client and if I didn’t deliver for Mason, then I might as well kiss my career away. Even leaving town wouldn’t help without recent references.

  “We’re going to have to talk about it at some point,” Scott pressed. “Unless you think that your poker face is all you need in life.”

  Scott

  “Got a minute?”

  Mason Winters breezed into my office looking like a rockstar. Light grey suit over black designer shirt. He had the whole chill CEO vibe down pat. Only I knew he could be a hard-nosed bastard when the loves of his life were under threat. His family, or Softli.

  “Not really, but come on in.” If the piles of papers on my desk didn’t give away that I didn’t have time to give a fuck, then nothing would. By the time I’d finished speaking, Mason was already in front of me. Ignoring the million-dollar view from my floor to ceiling windows, his knuckles white from gripping the chair.

  Beware the angry dude pretending to be anything but.

  “Apparently my meeting with Carlynn Rush has been postponed, again.” Mason delivered each word slowly instead of his usual barking staccato.

  “What can I say, we need to get all the paperwork together before she comes in, otherwise we’re paying her to sit around while we get organized.”

  “It’s been three weeks.”

  “And I’ve been flat out getting the papers ready for your board meet
ing.” The board meeting Darius and I had joined forces to postpone until we were ready. Darius had approached one of the independent directors and convinced them he needed an extra couple of weeks to present a business case on a new cyber security platform. I’d worked with the auditors to agree a delay so we could time releasing the financial statements with a new sales campaign.

  Everyone knew my history with Darius.

  No one would ever suspect we could work together. Our little paper sat at the back of the agenda. By the time the board got to the agenda item, it would sale through without objections, and Carlynn Rush’s days at Softli would be over before she put one beautiful foot in my office.

  “You mean those papers that you and Darius have decided to table about changing the sales-force incentives.” Damn, Mason had read them.

  “You’ve been wanting finance and technology to work better together, now we are.”

  Shit, shit, double shit.

  “All it took was a common enemy?”

  Mason would have to work harder to trap me into admitting either my reluctance to work with Carlynn or our history outside Softli.

  “Let’s call it a common purpose. We want Softli to deliver cutting edge technology for a profit. Right now, our sales-force aren’t being incentivized to do either.”

  “And Carlynn?”

  “Will be extremely valuable to validate our own assumptions and come up with a strategic approach to addressing them.” Except, if my team did their job, by the time she got her security pass, we wouldn’t—

  “Either, her contract starts before the board meeting,” Mason’s easy tone came with a Joker’s smile. “Or I’ll invite her to present to the board as the way of introducing the wonderful papers you and Darius seem so keen on having us consider.”

  Fuck. How long had Mason worked on this little speech? Allowing the meeting to be rescheduled and agreeing the agenda. Too bad. I had too much at stake to give up without at least a pivot.

  “That’s your decision,” I offered an air of surrender. “But if you wanted her involvement in Softli to be covert, then introducing her at the meeting will send the rumors flying.”