What the Gambler Risks

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What the Gambler Risks Page 12

by Kristina Knight


  “You don’t want me here?”

  Sabrina shook her head and held her hands up, waving them back and forth before her body. “Not at all, I meant what I said. You’re welcome here as long as you need to stay. I was thinking about a mental health break,” she said, using her mother’s favorite calling-off-work phrase. “You’ve been through a lot over the past few months. Lorenzo and the apartment lease,” she said, hating that she was pandering.

  Technically, Melinda brought her problems on herself, but she’d been a single mother living on a waitress salary for all of Sabrina’s twenty-eight years. That had to take a toll on a woman.

  “I have the last leg of the book tour coming up next week, so I’ll be gone anyway. You know how you hated it when you tagged along on that first tour. All the packing and unpacking, the weird hours. Why don’t you take some time. Get a facial, a mani-pedi. Have a massage. Lay on a beach.” She opened the internet window on the computer, and the Hawaiian resort displayed in brilliant color. “Put Mexico and work and your apartment out of your mind. Really start fresh.”

  Melinda’s jaw dropped, but then she shook her head from side to side. “I can’t afford something like this. And you said it yourself—I need to get a job. Find my own place.”

  Sabrina blinked. Melinda never talked like this, not seriously. She’d never, not in all of Sabrina’s life, willingly gone looking for a job.

  “What? A woman has to learn to take care of herself, isn’t that what your books say?”

  “Yeah. Of course. I just … you usually don’t say any of this stuff.”

  Melinda shrugged. “While you were winning at gambling, I was having nice conversation with a nice man who didn’t care that I can still wear a size five evening gown at … my age.”

  “Mom.” Sabrina felt tears well up in her eyes. Maybe her mother really was turning a corner in her life. “Did you read my book?”

  “Only to chapter five, but I’m planning to read the rest. After I find a new job,” Melinda added.

  Sabrina shook her head. “Las Vegas is always going to have waitress jobs, and there are new apartment complexes going up all the time. And I just had a windfall of cash land in my lap. Let me do this for you.”

  “You’ve done enough for me.” Melinda shot a look in Sabrina’s direction, but she couldn’t read it. She saw a bit of loneliness there but thought there was regret mixed in, too. “Would you come with me?”

  “I have the book tour. But when you come back, we’ll take a few days and vacation right here.”

  Melinda scrolled down the page, checking all the pictures. “I’m sorry I was so … demanding when I called you at the airport that day. And for all the things I’ve said or done since. And before. I thought Lorenzo was different. I thought, maybe … ” She trailed off.

  Sabrina put her arm around her mother’s shoulders, feeling them tremble a bit.

  “I know you think my books are silly, but there is one message I’ve learned that I try to put in all of them. When you stop looking for the things you think you need, the things you want start showing up.”

  Melinda chuckled. “I think you have that backwards, sweetheart.”

  “No, I don’t. We all need money for bills and food to eat, and we all need to be loved. But while we’re busy looking for all those needs, we sometimes forget to look for the things we want. I set your flight for tomorrow, and I think you should pack a few clothes and a notebook, and you shouldn’t distract yourself with bills or apartment searches or anything else. Everything is on me.” Sabrina grinned. “Actually, it’s all on the poker game last night. Found money, it’s supposed to be used to celebrate, right?”

  Melinda nodded. “Why a notebook?”

  “Because while you’re actively not thinking about all the things you need, you should consider the things you want.”

  “I’m not a list-maker like you.”

  “No, but would you try?” Sabrina asked. “Try not to worry. Try to experience something new. Try to think about what you want out of life instead of what you need to survive it.”

  Melinda leaned her head on Sabrina’s shoulder. “How did you get to be so smart?”

  Sabrina didn’t have an answer for that. She would like to say that she was raised by a strong woman, but the truth was it had taken a few college courses in psychology to identify the differences between needs and wants.

  “Do you want to have dinner on your last night in town?”

  “No, you go have dinner with your gambler. You could use a little fun in your life, too, you know.” Melinda rose. “Do you mind if I take one of your pretty notebooks? If I’m going to become a list-maker, I want the lists to be pretty, and I won’t have time to visit a bookstore.”

  “I’ll go get one for you.” Sabrina printed off the itinerary and tickets for her mother, and then went to find a notebook for her. She chose one with a cover that looked like ocean waves were crashing on it.

  She felt as if she were making the same changes her mother was. For so long, Melinda had been so focused on finding a man to take her away from her life that she hadn’t been able to see anything except what she was missing. Maybe this trip would help her find herself. The way Sabrina had found herself on a plane somewhere between Atlantic City and Las Vegas, and in a couple of different casinos, with a man she would never have envisioned for herself.

  She was falling for a gambler—correction: a card player. Not the choice she would have made if she’d had the choice. She would have chosen someone serious, with a real job, who had a life plan. Leaning against the window, she looked over the xeriscaped condo lawn. Cactus and rock filled most of the space, but wild sand verbena popped up in a few places, adding whimsical bits of color and texture.

  Tourists came to Las Vegas thinking it was filled with cacti and rocks and nothing else. She’d thought Jase was just gambling, but he was more. Just like her little desert garden was more. If she’d had the choice, she would have chosen someone safe and boring and not whimsical in the least.

  For the first time in her life, Sabrina was glad she hadn’t made the smart choice.

  • • •

  Jase was nervous. He didn’t get nervous. Not when he was playing poker, and not when he was in a meeting with his brothers. Since Sabrina left for her house, though, he’d been nervous.

  Actually, since he’d admitted he had strong feelings for her—he had the uneasy suspicion that it was love—he’d felt jumpy and off.

  The three of them were in Gage’s top-floor office, looking out over Fremont from the sitting area to the side of his desk.

  Gage shuffled through the papers Jase sat on the cherry coffee table between them. He’d noted the charitable options, identified the major players, and arranged for transportation to and from Holliday Spas, Callie’s renovated dude ranch outside the city. In two weeks, the tournament would be underway.

  “I appreciate you reaching out to the players. This is going to make the grand opening a must-see event.”

  “Anything for Cal,” Jase said, and he meant it. Callie had been their sweet next-door neighbor during their childhood, and she’d grown into a kind and capable woman.

  “She wants to know why you haven’t answered her texts since you’ve been back.”

  He’d ignored all six of the texts asking him to come to dinner at the ranch and inviting him to the lake for a picnic. “I’ve been busy getting her poker tournament scheduled.”

  “You’ve also been busy with a certain woman who thinks you might be old Mr. Binion.”

  “She’s a friend, and she didn’t think I was Binion. You two nuisances startled her.”

  Connor and Gage exchanged a look. “I don’t think we’re a danger to Sabrina Smith, best-selling author.”

  “I figured you’d recognize her,” Jase said to Connor.

  His brother raised one shoulder. “I make it my business to know the buzz in publishing, be that in the book world or newspapers. She’s on her way to being quite the big deal
in the self-help arena.”

  “I can’t believe you’re finally dating a woman—actually dating one and not just having dinner with her and never calling her again—and she’s a relationship expert,” Gage added.

  “Yeah, well, she’s interesting to talk to.”

  “She makes for a good story, too,” Connor said and held up a copy of a newspaper. Jase snatched the paper from him, noting it was the outfit challenging Connor’s hold on the Las Vegas market.

  Self-Help Author Gambles on Local Poker Player.

  That uncomfortable feeling hit his belly. His gaze traveled the page, and he saw a grainy photo of him almost kissing Sabrina in the poker lounge the night before. Despite the cell-phone quality of the picture, there was no doubt who he was or who she was. The photographer had caught them gazing into one another’s eyes just before they shared that excited kiss after learning they were one of the top teams.

  “Damn,” he said and shook his head. “We entered a partner-play tournament last night. It was just a celebratory kiss, nothing major.”

  The major had happened this morning, while they were in bed, talking. His brothers didn’t need to know about that, though. Jase continued reading.

  Local self-help and relationship author Sabrina Smith may not be the prim and proper icon she has sold to thousands of readers around the country. The author, whose new book hit store shelves this month, has been spotted around Las Vegas with local gambler and playboy Jase Reeves—one of the three brothers whose financial holdings include the Rocking R Ranch, Reeves Brothers Entertainment, and ReevesPub. Reeves is best known as a gambler. He has traveled the world for the past few years playing poker. His company, Reeves Gaming, also designs casino games.

  There was more. Stats about Sabrina’s book sales, a note that she was also a Las Vegas local, and information about her upcoming tour. The reporter went into part of Jase’s dating history, ending with the insulting: A simple search of the internet will provide the names of the hundreds of women Jase Reeves has “dated” in the past. This reporter certainly hopes Sabrina Smith knows the trouble she’s getting into.

  The number wasn’t in the hundreds, not that the reporter would care.

  He clenched his jaw. “Am I going to see a similar expose in Vegas Nightly tonight?”

  “It was an option,” Connor said. “Several citizen journalists have offered more pictures of the two of you last night.”

  “Great. You know, Gage was right. You are an ass where your newspaper is concerned.”

  “I said the pictures were offered, not that I bought them. Jeez, after Gage nearly blew a gasket over the Bachelor of the Month, you really think I’d do something similar to you?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

  Connor bunched his eyebrows. “You know, I liked you better when you were acting like Grumpy Cat over video chat instead of in person.”

  “I liked you better before you turned our lives into tabloid fodder.” Jase pressed his lips together, knowing the words weren't fair. “I didn't mean that.”

  “In Con’s defense, we were tabloid fodder long before he bought the newspapers,” Gage said, “and we made sure we stayed tabloid fodder by striking out on our own instead of living on the ranch full-time.”

  “Still aiming for that hero shot, I see,” Jase said, annoyed and quoting from one of their favorite movies, The Truman Show. Gage had a tendency to play devil’s advocate, never taking a side unless the side benefitted him. Jase blew out a breath. Gage was backing Connor because Jase was being an idiot. “Sorry. This isn't on either of you. I should have been paying more attention to the people around us at the casino last night.”

  “I’m not running that particular photo,” Connor said, “although there will be a piece about the tournament, and you will be part of the feature. It’s one of the largest tournament pots so far this year, and a lot of local players took part. You could have told us you were playing.”

  “I wasn’t planning to. It just kind of happened.”

  “Because Sabrina needed a partner?”

  “Something like that.” He tossed the newspaper on the coffee table. He still couldn’t put his finger on exactly why he’d kept playing poker with her that night in Atlantic City, and it bothered him. Yes, he’d been attracted, but usually that wasn’t enough to make him stick around when a woman pretended she wasn’t interested. Jase didn’t like playing that particular game. So why had he stuck around?

  Why sit with her on the plane, and why keep finding every excuse in the book to continue seeing her morning, noon, and night?

  It had to be more than like, but the other L word … That word was dangerous. Despite their talk just a couple of hours ago, he wasn’t ready to start tossing that word around, not even in theory.

  “You like her?” It was Connor, sitting forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “It’s about damn time you allowed yourself to like someone.”

  Jase shook his head. “Sorry I jumped on you,” he said, sending the apology in the general direction of both his brothers. Jase drew in a breath, trying to put the tabloid out of his mind. Sabrina wasn’t going to like it, but she would deal. Just as he would deal with these new and uncomfortable feelings she was making him feel. “Cue the sun,” he muttered, quoting another favorite line from the film. He had overreacted, and this was the best way to let Gage and Connor know he was sorry.

  “We’re okay?”

  “Of course we’re okay. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d publish your own version of that junk piece just because it’s in one of Clayton’s rags,” he said, referring to Connor’s competitor.

  “We try to only publish first-run junk. No second-tier gossip at Vegas Nightly,” Connor said, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

  Jase started to apologize but stopped himself. He was just digging this thing deeper. Gage and Connor would get over his mood. He needed to figure out what this thing with Sabrina was all about, and he had to figure out how, if the feelings were real between them, to make sure his past didn’t harm her future. Or her present. “I’ll see you Sunday for brunch,” he said, gathering his things.

  Jase didn’t stop at his office on the main floor, just tossed everything on the passenger seat of his truck and started for his condo.

  Things were okay with his brothers, but things might not be okay with Sabrina. Because the newspaper reporter wasn’t wrong about him. He’d been the playboy type for most of his adult life, and that kind of man wasn’t good enough for a woman like Sabrina.

  Her fans wouldn’t like it, and that was a problem. Her publisher wouldn’t like it, and that was a bigger problem.

  The biggest problem, though, was that she deserved better than him. When she realized that, she was going to walk away.

  And he was going to be alone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Being alone had never bothered Sabrina. As a child, she’d spent hours alone in the dressing areas of whatever casino her mother had been working, spent countless Friday nights home alone as a teenager because she didn’t care about high school sports and didn’t like most of the games the girls her age played with boys. The push-pull of “he likes me; he doesn’t like me” was too much like the constant state of emotional turmoil with which her mother dealt.

  Before playing that first hand of cards with Jase in Atlantic City, she’d prized herself on her ability to be alone for days at a time and not feel lonely. That was two weeks and zero alone time ago, and she wasn’t sure how it would feel to check into a hotel without him tomorrow.

  It was Sunday morning, and she left for the last leg of her book tour in the morning. She and Jase hadn’t had any more deep discussions about their future. She’d hidden that piece about the two of them in the Clayton paper from him and avoided any restaurants where they might be spotted because she A) didn’t want another story like that floating around and B) didn’t want Jase to use it to drive a wedge between them.

  Now, she sat with him on the wide porch at the Rockin
g R. The early February sun warmed the desert surrounding them. His brothers and their girlfriends lounged on the porch swing and another set of chairs. She didn’t want to leave this.

  Didn’t want to leave him.

  The thought scared her.

  She didn’t know these people all that well; if things went badly between her and Jase, it should easy to forget about the entertaining banter between Jase and his brothers, or the gentle way all three of them treated Callie and Miranda, and even her. It all felt familiar somehow. Probably from all those made-for-TV family dramas she’d watched as a kid. Their deep love for one another shone from the friendly jibes to the more serious talk about Jase’s game release, Gage and Callie’s grand opening, and Miranda’s launch of a new eco-tourism publication for Connor’s company.

  Rollie, the ranch foreman and their father’s best friend, stood and stretched. From what Sabrina had gathered, he was the steadiest person the brothers had ever known, and for that alone, Sabrina thought she might just love him. “Great lunch, as always, Callie,” he said in his deep voice. With his pressed jeans and clean chambray shirt, the older man looked as if he belonged in one of those old spaghetti westerns she caught on Saturday-morning television as a kid. He offered a wave as he stepped off the porch and started toward his small cabin behind the big barn.

  It had been a couple of days since the gossip sites began talking about her relationship with Jase, and not even three weeks since she’d met him, but already she felt as if she couldn’t breathe when he wasn’t around. This wasn’t the person she’d promised herself she would be when she fell in love. She was supposed to be smarter than that; she was supposed to fall in love but not lose herself in the process.

  Tomorrow she left Las Vegas for the last leg of her tour, and along with the usual meet-and-greets and readings, she knew there would be questions about him. She didn’t want to talk about Jase. Not because she was ashamed of him, but because he was hers, not part of the package her publisher labeled “Sabrina Smith, Self-Help Guru” or the package that jerk of an ex labeled “the Vegas Virgin.”

 

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