The Gamble

by Alice Ward

  “I know,” Madison sighed.

  “I don’t know what to do.” I felt so defeated. “I don’t want to disappoint her. I think I stayed with Perry for so long because I just wanted to make her wish come true. I wanted her to see me get married and have children, but I don’t think she ever will.”

  “Don’t say that,” Madison said firmly. “She will, Dani. She’s not dying.”

  “But she’s sick. She remembers things less and less. Her mind is already drifting so far away. By the time I find someone new and settle down, she won’t even be her anymore.”

  “Dani…” She leaned her head against mine.

  We sat silently together for a few minutes. I knew Madison wanted to help me, but she didn’t know how. I wasn’t upset about Perry, not really. I was just upset about what it meant for my future. The one thing I never wanted to do was let my mom down.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Madison said softly. She pulled away from me.

  “Why? Where?”

  “I think you need a break. You’ve been sacrificing so much of yourself lately. For Perry. For your mom. You need to take a break and heal.”

  I didn’t even know how to start. “And how do I do that?”

  “Come with me to Vegas for the weekend.”

  “Madison, I—”

  She held up a hand. “I’m serious. You need this. It’s not far. If something happens with your mom, you can be at her house in a little over an hour.”

  I frowned. She wasn’t wrong. Plus, my mother’s neighbor would look in on her if I asked.

  “Okay.” I said it before it could turn into a no.

  A huge grin split Madison’s face. “Okay?”

  The smile was contagious. “Yeah.” I nodded once to emphasize the word. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  “Yes!” Madison exclaimed.

  I hurried into my bedroom and packed a bag. While I did so, I called my mom’s neighbor and told her I’d be out of town. She promised to look in on Mom each day. I thanked her and ran back out to the living room. Madison was waiting for me with the door wide open. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively as we headed out into the night.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Talen

  Brandon’s grand plan for the weekend was yet another adventure into Vegas. At first, I was skeptical. It was the same thing we’d done countless nights before, and I wanted something new, something different. I wanted to get in the car and drive miles away. I wanted to forget about my father and his mandates. I wanted to push my negative emotions aside and focus on making myself happy. I didn’t think another weekend in Vegas was the answer, but I was wrong.

  After a few hours inside the Palazzo, Brandon and I stumbled onto the Vegas Strip. We walked together, laughing and running into people randomly. Neither of us was blackout drunk yet, but we felt great. Nothing could tear us down. All thoughts of my father and his company had flown from my mind completely. The only thing I wanted to do was drink and party with my best friend. As we walked, Brandon yelled random things at strangers just to make me laugh. I laughed so hard that tears formed in my eyes.

  The alcohol worked through my system. My body was flushed, and my instincts were dulled. Everything around me was clear, and I knew exactly where I was, but my thoughts were hazy and confused. One second, I laughed with Brandon, and the next, I was hitting on an attractive woman walking by, and after that, I dwelled on thoughts about my father’s ridiculous ultimatums. Despite my determination to forget him, he kept creeping back into my psyche.

  “I’ve been thinking!” Brandon yelled while we continued down the strip.

  “What?”

  “About your dad,” he said, looking serious. He got close to my face so that I would hear him clearly over the noise of the crowd. “I think the reason he’s so hell-bent on controlling your life is because he can’t control his own.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, laughing. “My father controls the fucking world.”

  “No,” Brandon said, shaking his head. “That’s the thing, he doesn’t. He just wants you to think he does so that he can control you.”

  Brandon was drunk, but he made perfect sense. Maybe it was my own intoxication that fogged my senses, but I understood every word he said. He was totally right. My father was determined to wield his power over me because he actually felt powerless. It was a classic sign of insecurity, and I finally saw right through his façade. That night, on the strip with Brandon, I felt larger than life. Larger even than my father.

  “I’m not going to play his game,” I said firmly.

  “What?” Brandon yelled over the crowd surrounding us.

  “I’m not going to play his game!” I yelled back. “I’m done! I’m done with him and his fucked up rules!”

  “That’s right!” Brandon high-fived me. “You’re not getting married!”

  “Hell, no, I’m not getting married,” I said with a laugh. “Of course, I’m not getting married. That’s insane.”

  “Beyond insane!” Brandon agreed.

  “It’s my life,” I said with a newfound confidence. “I don’t have to sit back and let him control me. I’m a grown man. He’s nothing more than a power-hungry psycho!”

  “Yeah, screw him!” Brandon yelled.

  “Exactly,” I said with a nod. “He wants me to get married? Fuck. That.”

  Brandon laughed and pumped his fist in the air. I knew this had been his goal all along. When he suggested going out for the weekend, he just wanted me to find my own confidence again. He wanted me to shove my father’s orders back in his face. He wanted to remind me of the person I really was. I grinned and slapped him on the back. Right then, I’d never been more grateful for him. He wasn’t just my best friend, he was my brother, and I loved him. Without Brandon, I never would have stopped wallowing in my own misery. I would have stayed in my apartment all weekend, whining to myself about how unfair it all was.

  Just the thought made my stomach churn. My father had that effect on me. He made me feel weak, even though I was strong and confident in every other aspect of my life. I was Talen Fucking Gaston, and I knew exactly who I wanted to be. No one, not even my father, was going to take that away from me.

  I wouldn’t let him beat me down into submission. He could lay down whatever laws he wanted, but I wouldn’t listen. He would never be able to control me. No matter what he said or did, I would not cave. He could cut me off. He could ban me from the company. I didn’t care anymore. I was ready to strike out on my own for good.

  “You don’t need him,” Brandon said, shaking his head firmly.

  “Damn right. I don’t need him or his damn rules.”

  “Let’s go.” He grabbed my arm, pulling me to the side.

  I looked around. “Where?”

  “Here!” Brandon pulled me down a side street. I didn’t know where we were going, but I let Brandon take the lead. I was just drunk enough to trust him completely.

  He led me a bit farther before he stopped in front of a strip club. He turned to stare at it head-on with a mischievous grin on his face. When he looked at me, he raised his eyebrows and laughed. I rolled my eyes but let him pull me inside anyway. Brandon loved strip clubs. He always had. I never saw the point in them. Watching women dance naked was only a turn on if I got to touch them while they did it. Strip clubs were just one giant exploration into the land of blue balls, and I hated it.

  Still, I was up for anything tonight. I let Brandon pull me inside, and I even broke a twenty at the bar. Brandon and I got a few drinks before we found a table right up front. Three women were dancing on the main stage, wrapping themselves seductively around poles. I watched the one closest to me while she moved. Her black hair looked like a wig, but I didn’t care. It was short and sexy. She was already topless, and I watched her breasts bounce to the beat of a trashy rock song. I licked my lips and stood up slowly. Walking over to her, I slid a one-dollar bill in her G-string. She winked at me and shook her tits in my face. When she retre
ated, I went to sit back down.

  “God.” I adjusted my pants. “Strip clubs still suck.”

  Brandon looked at me like I was crazy. “What? This is amazing, man.”

  I lifted my empty hands. “We can’t touch them. What’s the point?”

  He winked. “You can touch them if you pay enough.”

  I rolled my eyes. Even half lit, I wasn’t into that. It was basically prostitution and not my thing. Brandon would take anything he could get, even if he had to pay for it, but not me. My standards weren’t always that high, but they were always too high to indulge in hookers. It just wasn’t me.

  Still, I sat back and enjoyed the show. Brandon and I threw money at the women while they entertained us. We watched while each woman made the rounds to the main stage. The music was lively and upbeat. In my drunken haze, I felt it in every single bone. My entire body vibrated with energy and excitement. Brandon had been right; this kind of night was exactly what I needed. After just a few hours away from my apartment, I already felt better about everything. I knew I could handle anything my father threw my way.

  “You were right,” I said to Brandon. “This is exactly what I needed, man. Thanks for bringing me out.”

  “It’s my job.” Brandon shrugged. “Besides, there is no problem that can’t be solved by a few drinks and hot women.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” I said, holding up my glass. Brandon clinked his own against it, and I took a long sip. I finished the glass and tapped it on the table. Brandon patted my back and pointed to a new stripper on the main stage.

  My gaze traveled over her body in appreciation. For the first time that night, I wondered if it ever bothered these women to be stared at. Horny men traipsed in and out of the club nonstop and spent entire nights just watching them. Lusting. Jacking off later to their memory. I couldn’t imagine stripping would be an enjoyable profession. I wondered if any of the strippers I watched on the stage wished I wouldn’t. If they looked at me while I gaped at their bare breasts and silently hated me for it.

  Just thinking about the possibility made me turn my head away. I looked at Brandon and then at the other patrons, my eyes traveling over each person in the club, never landing on one person for too long.

  Until her.

  Sitting alone on a barstool, I could barely see her face from my seat, but I could make out most of her profile. Her long auburn hair hung loosely over her shoulders in soft, natural waves. I was instantly captivated by the sight of her. From what I could see, her face was delicate. She looked young, but not naïve. There was something about the set of her shoulders that told me she’d been through a lot. She looked hardened but also exceedingly kind.

  I watched her for a few minutes, careful to look away when she glanced in my direction. I was certain she hadn’t seen me yet, but I wanted her to. As I watched, I became more intrigued by her. When she tucked her long hair behind her ears, I found myself wanting to do it for her. She leaned forward, smiling at the bartender, and my stomach did a flip. I could only see half of her face, but her smile was gorgeous. In that moment, I knew I had to talk to her. Whatever else happened that night, I couldn’t leave the club without discovering her name.

  “Hey,” I said to Brandon. “I’ll be right back.”

  Brandon waved me away without a word. He was too busy ogling the strippers to care about my whereabouts. I chuckled to myself and stood up slowly. I was drunk, too drunk, but I could still walk and think straight. I’d successfully picked up women when I was drunker than this, so I felt immensely confident as I walked her way. I stuffed my hands in my pockets as I approached. This was something I always did. It made me seem nonthreatening.

  I walked up behind her and thought about lightly touching her shoulder, but as I reached out my hand, someone shoved between us. My arm was knocked away, and I stumbled slightly. I cursed under my breath, but when I looked back at my prize, her back was still to me. She didn’t seem to have noticed anything going on behind her. I took a deep breath and decided it would be better to sit down beside her. Silently, I slid onto the barstool to her left and put my arms on the bar. She glanced in my direction but didn’t speak.

  I let the silence linger in the air between us for a few minutes. I ordered a drink and sipped on it slowly, not even looking in her direction. Her eyes were on me, though. I could feel them. I wanted her to become curious about me before I spoke. She was my goal for the evening, and I knew exactly how to succeed.

  Finally, I turned to face her. My eyes locked on hers, and I was taken aback by how green they were. I blinked and smiled, genuinely pleased.

  “Hi. I’m Talen.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dani

  Madison took me to the strip club where she worked. She often bounced between clubs, but this was her main place of employment. I didn’t approve of her job, but I knew better than to pass judgment. Madison’s life hadn’t been easy, and she did what she had to do to make ends meet. I admired her more than most people, and I knew she wouldn’t work as a stripper forever. As soon as she finished her degree, she would find a new job doing something more respectable. That night, I sat at the bar while she worked and avoided talking to anyone.

  The bartender kept my glass full, and I pounded back drinks faster than I had in years. I ordered round after round, letting the alcohol drown my emotions. I still felt angry over my breakup with Perry and heartbroken about my mother, but I refused to let myself think about those things.

  Instead, I made casual conversation with the bartender and spent the evening getting drunk. Every so often, I glanced around the club, taking in the scene. Men were littered around the stage, all staring wide-eyed at the strippers.

  My eyes fell on Madison, and I waved at her. She blew me a kiss and continued dancing around the pole. I smiled and turned back to the bartender. He handed me another drink, and I nodded my thanks. As I sipped, I tried not to think about how crazy my weekend had become. For years, I avoided going out. I hadn’t spent a night in the city in almost three years. Now, I was getting plastered in the middle of a strip club. I laughed at myself and downed yet another drink. My head got fuzzier by the second.

  I still couldn’t believe Perry. Part of me wondered about the other woman. Who was she? Where was she from? Was there ever really a business meeting out of town? Or was he just sneaking away to see her? How long had they been seeing each other? Why didn’t he just end things with me right after he met her? What made him stick around when he knew he didn’t want me anymore? These questions and more swirled around my already hazy mind. I shook my head and tried to force them away, but they kept coming at me with a vengeance.

  As the night progressed, I knew I would be sick the following morning. I thought about slowing down, but I was having fun. Just sitting alone at a bar made me feel happy again. I felt independent and strong, like I didn’t need Perry or anyone else. For the first time in a while, I began to feel good about myself. I remembered Madison’s praise over my latest painting, and I smiled into my glass. She really loved that painting, and I thought I knew why. I hadn’t let any preconceived notions interfere with my art. I just painted. And it worked.

  I was busy marveling over the memory of that painting when someone slid onto the barstool beside me. I glanced over to see a man about my age with thick black hair and the lightest blue eyes I’d ever seen. Frowning, I turned away from him. The bar was mostly empty. There were a ton of empty seats. Why did he have to sit down right beside me? I knew I should feel uncomfortable, but I didn’t. He was attractive, incredibly attractive. Still, tonight wasn’t about meeting guys. It was about me.

  When I looked at him again, he turned to face me. His eyes locked on mine, and I blinked. They were so blue that I immediately lost my train of thought. Moments before, I was ready to tell him to buzz off, but I suddenly forgot my plan.

  “Hi. I’m Talen.”

  I pulled myself back to reality. I shook my head slowly, laughing softly. Looking away from him, I took
a long sip of my drink. When I set it down, I turned back to face him.

  “I’m not interested,” I said firmly.

  He lifted a brow. “In what?”

  “You.” I waved a hand between us. “This. Whatever this is.”

  “This is a conversation,” he said, totally unfazed. “At least, I hoped it would be.”

  “Why?” I spun around so that my body faced him directly. We were sitting close, far too close for two strangers. “What’s your goal?”

  He laughed. “My goal? What do you mean?”

  “I’m a girl sitting alone at a bar,” I said slowly. “You’re a guy who just happened to come sit down beside me. I’m not an idiot.”

  He smiled, revealing a dimple that seemed to wink at my clit. “No. You certainly aren’t.”

  I opened my mouth, ready to argue when I realized what he just said. Quickly, my lips fell back together, and I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t know what to say. I was ready to challenge him until he left me alone, but his words took me by surprise.

  “I’m impressed,” he said, surprising me again.

  “By what?” I asked with a frown.

  “You.”

  In spite of myself, I was curious. “What do you mean?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “You challenged me. Most women don’t.”

  I picked up my drink and took a sip. “It’s not that hard.” I tried hard not to smile, but there it was, spreading across my stupid face.

  He laughed, and it was a deep, sexy sound. “No. It’s not, but so few actually try. Most women are just pleased that someone is talking to them.”

  “Not me,” I said under my breath. “Not tonight.”

  “Guy trouble?” I looked at him sharply, and he lifted his hands, palms out. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about it. I was just asking.”

  I took a longer drink this time and signaled the bartender for another. “Yeah. Guy trouble. Life trouble. Whatever.”

  “What happened?”

  I looked at him, trying to figure out his motives. If he was trying to sleep with me, he wasn’t going about it the right way. Asking me to talk about my relationship troubles wasn’t exactly the best way to get into my pants. I wondered if I should excuse myself, but something kept me cemented to my barstool.