All In

by Nell Stark

  She had replayed their conversation a dozen times in her head, but it never ended well no matter what she tried to change. The beginning had been the greatest mistake of all. She should never have told Vesper the truth. I love you. Perhaps in some parallel universe, her gambit ended well, but in this reality, it had utterly failed. Vesper had made it clear from the beginning that she had no room in her life for anything other than a casual relationship, and she’d stuck to her guns. Nova could only blame her own wishful thinking. She should have bluffed for all she was worth.

  Slowly, the ache in her chest expanded until her breaths grew shallow. When she finally moved, it was to stumble into the kitchen for a drink of water, but she found the champagne bottle instead. She carried it back to the window and sipped at it slowly, irony tickling her throat with every carbonated swallow. She had won her bracelet and her sponsorship but lost something infinitely more valuable.

  No. That was a kind of wishful thinking, too. Vesper had never been hers to lose.

  By the time the bottle was empty, she knew what she had to do. She retrieved her phone from her shorts pocket and fired off a text to Jeremy. Still up? If so, I need a favor.

  While waiting for his reply, she slowly put her clothes back on, unable to stop herself from flashing back to how eagerly Vesper had removed them. With a shiver, she pulled her brand-new hoodie back over her head and tucked her bracelet into a side pocket of her shorts. Royal Flush had treated her like royalty today, but the victory felt hollow with Vesper on the other side of a locked door.

  At casino. Just dropped clients. Wut do u need?

  Nova typed back quickly. Can u pick me up from V’s? Going to airport. A long pause ensued. She could practically feel his confusion from halfway across the city, but she wasn’t going to say anything more until she could look him in the eye.

  Omw, he finally replied.

  Her bag was mostly packed, and after a quick stop in the bathroom, she had everything she needed. One hand was on the doorknob before she reconsidered, dropped her duffel, and hurried back to the refrigerator. Vesper kept a magnetized notepad there, and she tore off one sheet before replacing it. Its empty lines stared up at her, mocking her efforts to make verbal sense of the maelstrom in her brain. Should she apologize? Beg? Berate?

  No. She couldn’t go back; she could only move forward. The thought galvanized her into action. There was only one thing left to say.

  I meant it, she scrawled in an unsteady hand. Beneath the words, she signed her initials—AJN. Much as she might dislike them, they were what she had to give. With one of Vesper’s spare magnets, she tacked up the note near the refrigerator handle, where she was sure to see it. And then, forcing herself not to look back, she stepped out into the hallway.

  Nova emerged from the building as Jeremy’s car pulled up at the curb. When he stepped out to help her with the trunk, she waved him off. She slid into the passenger seat, but when he made to put the car in drive, she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

  “There’s something I need to ask you.”

  “Okay.” He sounded uncertain, and why wouldn’t he? Vesper was the one to whom he owed his loyalty, not her.

  “I have to go back to San Francisco right away and won’t be able to play in the main event. I’m hoping you’ll take my spot.”

  “Me?” He blinked at her, clearly shocked.

  “Why not? You know how to play poker, don’t you?”

  “Sure, but—”

  “So, play. If you make it to the fourth day, you’ll be in the money. Fifteen thousand dollars, and it only gets better from there.”

  Jeremy drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Why me?”

  “You work hard, and you’re damn good at what you do. Vesper’s not the only person who can see that. Why not find out if you can catch a break? Plenty of amateurs have made the final table in years past. If you do, the sponsors will flock to you. If you don’t, well, nothing risked, nothing lost.”

  Nova watched as he thought it over. She may have made a ruin out of her relationship—or lack thereof—with Vesper, but at least she could try to leave on some kind of high note. Generosity was never a mistake.

  The brief drive to the airport passed in silence until Jeremy pulled off the highway. Finally, the weight of things unsaid compelled her to speak. Vesper wasn’t the only person she would miss. “When you next see TJ and his family, would you mind telling them that I’m sorry I didn’t get to say good-bye in person?”

  “No problem.”

  “Thanks.” They passed by first one sign announcing the airport, and then another. Each time, Nova’s chest constricted painfully. However much she disliked Vegas, she had never planned on leaving it like this.

  Jeremy pulled up to the curb and popped the trunk but made no move to get out of the car. Instead, his eyes locked onto hers. “Any message for Vesper?”

  Tell her I love her, Nova wanted to say. Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I meant it.

  Instead, she shook her head and opened the door. “Take care, okay? Thanks for everything. And good luck.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Vesper intercepted TJ as he made his way toward the exit. When he saw her, he smiled tiredly. “Really thought I had him,” he said.

  “That river card was unlucky. I’m sorry.” Vesper patted him on the shoulder, glad he wasn’t more upset. “You came close to lasting through the day. That’s something to be proud of.”

  “Is Jeremy still in the mix?”

  “Yes.” The monosyllable came out more sharply than she had intended. She didn’t want to think of anything that would remind her of Nova, and his success throughout the main event so far did exactly that. Swiftly, she changed the topic. “Can I help you with any plans for the evening, now that you’re free?”

  “We’re just going to relax in the suite, I think. Amelia wants to do a horror film marathon. But thanks.” He cocked his head. “Want to join us?”

  A night sacked out in front of the television was exactly what she needed, but not as a third wheel. “I have another obligation,” she said, which was the truth, anyway. “But that sounds fun.”

  “Theo!” Amelia burst onto the scene, hurrying toward them with a distraught expression. “I’m so sorry I missed it.” When she slid one arm around his waist, Vesper felt her eyebrows twitch. Clearly, something definitive had happened over the past few days. And since when had she started calling him Theo?

  “Well, I’m not,” he was saying. His hand stroked in gentle circles between her shoulder blades. “It was embarrassing. V can fill you in if you want all the gory details.”

  “Vesper! Hi. I didn’t see you.” Amelia blushed. “I mean…”

  Seeing them so together, and so obviously happy, made Vesper feel hollow. She smiled in what she hoped was an encouraging fashion. “You’re fine. Enjoy the scary movies. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

  As she turned away, she glanced at her watch. It was nearly time to meet Priscilla for an early meal before her flight left later in the evening. She had busted out yesterday and decided not to stay for the remainder of the event, citing a measure of homesickness: “You can take the girl out of Texas, but you can’t take Texas out of the girl.”

  Vesper didn’t agree on that particular point, but she wasn’t about to argue. Priscilla had lost almost ten million dollars over the course of her first solo stay in Vegas, and Vesper wanted to keep her as happy as possible. When she arrived at Barri, Priscilla was already seated in a private corner booth, sipping an appletini and looking out over the Strip. The orange rays of the setting sun filtered through the window to set her diamond earrings ablaze with color.

  “There you are. What’s the news from downstairs?”

  “Kris Winston has the lead. TJ was just eliminated, but Jeremy is still in the running.” As she slid into the opposite booth, a waiter materialized at her elbow.

  “Something to drink, Ms. Blake?”

  Vesper was about to
ask for seltzer water when Priscilla barged in. “She’ll have what I’m having.”

  “Thank you,” Vesper said, trying out a laugh.

  “Don’t thank me. You’re buying.”

  That was true enough, though Priscilla’s losses more than compensated for the casino’s expense where she was concerned. “Are you all set for your flight this evening? Your driver will meet you in the lobby at seven.”

  Priscilla waved one spangled hand in the air. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m a big girl. And getting bigger after weeks of this food.”

  Their waiter returned to drop off Vesper’s drink and take their orders, but as soon as he was gone, Priscilla leaned forward conspiratorially. “Tell me something, Vesper. What’s your greatest goal?”

  The question might have been abrupt, but the answer jumped readily to her lips. “To be the best host in Las Vegas.” She only wondered whether she would have the opportunity. Once the Hamiltons left, Steve would shut Valhalla’s door in her face. Whether she would find another home elsewhere on the Strip was anyone’s guess.

  “And then?”

  She could have made something up, but Priscilla would recognize bullshit when she heard it. “I hadn’t thought that far in advance.”

  “Always think ahead. That’s my unsolicited advice.” She clinked her glass with Vesper’s. “What do you love so much about being a host?”

  Vesper had never needed to put it in words before. She felt like she was at an interview that she hadn’t prepared for. “I like having so many tools at my disposal to bring in new clients,” she said. “And I enjoy straddling the line between company and client. It’s a tightrope sometimes, but one I like to walk.”

  “You crave the thrill,” Priscilla confirmed.

  Vesper was taken aback. She wasn’t the adrenaline junkie. That was Nova. Her heart thumped painfully.

  “But in the end,” Priscilla continued, “what do you have to show for all your hard work? Your clients come and go. Their money disappears into the bottomless pit of the casino, and your relationships with them fall apart like a house of cards if that money dries up. What have you built?” She shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Vesper couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The skin on her neck prickled in anger and she felt her cheeks grow hot. How dare Priscilla judge her life’s work so harshly, after Vesper had spent the past few weeks making her every wish come true? Heat pounded through her head and she clamped her lips together, forcing herself not to speak.

  “I see I’ve made you angry. Good.” Priscilla looked bemused, which made her headache even worse. “You’re much more interesting when you’re emotional. The life’s gone right out of you since Nova left. You’re a walking shell of a human being.”

  Adrenaline poured into her blood, making her tremble, making her feel alive. How dare Priscilla bring Nova into this! “Excuse me?” she said icily, glad her voice remained steady.

  “You heard exactly what I said, and I’m glad to hear I’ve hit a nerve. I was starting to think you’re a robot under those perfect suits and elegant dresses.” Priscilla took another sip of her drink as Vesper continued to fume. “Now keep listening, because I’m about to offer you a job.”

  “You’re…pardon?” Vesper had never been more confused in her life.

  “A real job, in which you go out and build something instead of spending your time pandering to people.” Priscilla cocked her head. “Are you going to hear me out, or throw that drink in my face?”

  “I’m listening.” Vesper kept her voice cool, though some of her anger had already given way to curiosity.

  Priscilla drained her martini, signaled the waiter for another, and leaned back in her chair. “I would think you’d be more grateful, seeing as you’ll be unemployed as soon as I walk out the door.”

  Vesper clenched her jaw to keep it from dropping. How had Priscilla learned about her dismissal? Should she deny or admit it?

  “Oh, don’t look so shocked. That sleazeball James came sniffing around yesterday and he happened to accidentally mention that you were being forced out. He even told me why.” She chuckled. “That sure did backfire on him, the fool.” She pinned Vesper with a sharp gaze. “I respect you for standing up for yourself. And I told him I’d rather spend my money elsewhere than let him near one red cent.”

  Vesper’s brain was doing somersaults, but she managed to focus on the mental image of James’s face long enough for a strangled laugh. “What exactly are you saying?”

  “What I’m saying is that I respect you and don’t respect him.” Priscilla leaned forward. “Vesper, my husband had a diverse range of interests. With the money he got from oil, he bought whatever he wanted—car dealerships, golf courses, restaurants, a luxury hotel chain. My son is going to take charge of most of it; the rest he wants to sell.

  “Now, I don’t know a damn thing about golf or cars, but I know plenty about luxury, and our hotels aren’t getting it right. They’re languishing. The old boys my husband put in charge don’t have the right priorities. The chain needs a fresh hand at the wheel, or it’ll go belly-up.”

  “You’ll be taking the helm, then?” Vesper asked, dizzied by the turn in the conversation.

  “Oh, no.” Priscilla laughed. “I’m much too old to play entrepreneur. I was thinking of someone younger. Someone innovative and ambitious, who understands hospitality on both sides of the coin. Are you catching my drift?”

  Vesper was, but she couldn’t believe it. “You want me to…to take charge? Of a hotel chain?”

  Priscilla laughed again, but not unkindly. “Not all at once. You’ll need to prove yourself first. You can start by taking on one of the crown jewels and turning it around—making it more relevant to today’s younger, affluent customers. It can be a prototype. Beyond that, we’ll see.”

  A low buzz filled Vesper’s ears. This was beyond belief. “Crown jewels?” she asked weakly.

  “There are five: Tokyo, London, New York, Los Angeles, and Paris. You can have your pick.” Priscilla was smiling above the rim of her glass. “London might be a good place to start. Ever been?”

  “I’ve never even seen the ocean,” Vesper said weakly. She drank deeply from her martini. “I’m honored that you’re asking, Priscilla. I really am. But why me?”

  “Because you can see the big picture without getting bogged down in the details. Because you’re willing to sacrifice the traditional approach to get results. You were savvy enough to hunt me down, weren’t you? When everyone else was trying to get their claws into my son.”

  Even as Vesper listened to Priscilla’s praise, the part of her that would always be a poor kid from Houston remained skeptical. She didn’t belong at this table, in this conversation. She didn’t belong anywhere near it. “I don’t have a background in hotel management. I don’t even have an MBA.”

  “You think I give a rat’s ass about credentials?” Priscilla let out an unladylike snort. “There are hundreds of bright, entitled kids graduating every year from hotel management school. What I need is someone with taste. With vision. Someone with the right soul to breathe life back into what used to be a grand old brand name.”

  She leaned forward, eyes bright as the gems in her ears. “I think you’re that person, Vesper Blake. What do you think?”

  *

  Nova sipped at her thirty-year-old scotch and tried to seem interested in the conversation around her. It had begun as a discussion about federal gambling laws, and whether there might be a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel for online poker players. One of the politicians in the room had mentioned that both Nevada and New Jersey were making bids to legalize online gambling, but that tantalizing piece of information had been eclipsed by a bitchfest about taxes. Unlike most of the people in this room, Nova was a staunch Democrat and couldn’t sympathize. At all. Struggling to maintain a poker face, she slipped her free hand into her pocket and closed her fingers around her conch shell. Yesterday, in a dark moment, she had almost thrown it back into the sea
.

  The only other woman in their group—a brunette in a dress darker than her hair, with a plunging neckline—had been flirting with the men around her all night, but now she turned to smile at Nova. She worked for the hedge fund that had cosponsored this event, and as she congratulated Nova on being the first woman to win the Championship, she made sure their elbows brushed. Nova chatted politely with her for a few minutes but was careful to keep her distance. Once, she would have been interested in what the woman was offering, but not now. Not since Vesper.

  After twenty-four hours had passed with no word from her, Nova had reached out by text. A day later, she had called. The sound of Vesper’s voice in her automated greeting had made her heart twist like a fish on a hook. Now, almost a week after she had left an apologetic message, she still hadn’t heard anything back. Frustration was slowly giving way to despair, though she was trying to fight it. Was it so easy for Vesper to turn her back on what they had shared? Had it truly not meant anything to her?

  Despite her silence, Nova couldn’t believe that. Two things she knew for sure: that she had hurt Vesper badly, and that Vesper was very good at protecting herself. She had to be—that was how she had survived all these years. Nova wanted to believe that once Vesper’s anger cooled and she gained some perspective, she would reach out. But if she was being honest with herself, the other possibility was just as likely. Love was risk. Even if Vesper did feel the same, her self-protective instincts might overrule her emotions.

  Nova excused herself and meandered back toward the hors d’oeuvres table. She waved at a few people she knew but didn’t stop to chat. This was her second appearance for Royal Flush since the World Series, and while the food was always good, the company left much to be desired. These “charity” tournaments were really just an excuse for corporate bigwigs to get together and schmooze. Sure, some NPO always made out like a bandit with the proceeds, but the whole thing felt hollow to her. Rich white men, checking a box.