Gamble - Part One

by Aubrey St. Clair

  I skip his messages for now and scroll through Evelyn's. She wasn't happy that I wasn't coming home either, but she totally understood and sounded a bit jealous. She made sure to note numerous times that she expected a complete blow by blow when I got home, and the fact that he's tweeting about me and I'm skipping my flight for him means that she's not going to accept any excuse from me that there is nothing to tell. I just shake my head and smile, imagining the things I could tell her when I got home.

  It surprises me that Harrison didn't call Evelyn to ask if she'd heard from me, so I jump back over his messages to see if he mentions doing that. If he did, I can stop feeling guilty about not telling him. Despite how he treated me and the fact that I'm sort of happy to hear that he seems to be genuinely worried about my safety, I do feel bad that I completely forgot to let him know that I wouldn't be there today.

  I don't see anything in any of his texts to indicate that he thought of talking to Evelyn, so I switch over to the voicemails he left. He does sound worried, making me feel even more guilty, until I get to the last one where he mentions his intention to call my parents as soon as he lands to find out if they had heard from me. Of course he wouldn't call them before he got on the plane. Too cheap to pay the long distance charges on his cell phone. So maybe he wasn't quite as concerned as I thought.

  Still, if he does call my parents they are liable to do something crazy like contact the US embassy or something, so I decide to call him back to at least let him know I'm still alive. Besides, with him already on the plane I at least won't have to actually talk to him directly. I certainly want to avoid the real reason I'm staying. That's still not a conversation with him that I'm ready to have.

  It takes me a minute to mentally compose what I'm going to say. I need something that sounds clear and final, but without giving away too much. I don't really want to lie to him, he'll find out about Chase eventually, but I don't really want to tell him about us just yet either. I have the advantage in being able to leave it as a message and not have to worry about him peppering me with questions. I'm not a great liar.

  I dial his cell, trying to keep the rough monologue in my head and hoping I won't sound like a fumbling idiot trying to dance around the most important part of the story.

  It only rings once.

  "Hello? Lila? Where the hell are you?" comes Harry's unrecorded voice.

  Shit.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I'm silent, caught by surprise at having Harrison actually answer the phone when I was completely expecting his voicemail. The clock on the desk across from me says ten thirty seven. Why the hell isn't he already on his way back to Toronto?

  "Lila? Are you there? I hope you're on your way to the airport. The flight was delayed but they're expecting to board in a few minutes. Where the hell are you?"

  "I'm not coming," I finally find my voice. The speech I'd prepared has fled my mind completely so I have to wing it.

  "What do you mean you aren't coming? Where are you, Lila? Where have you been? I have your bag here with me."

  "I'm... I'm just staying in Vegas for a little while. I need some time."

  "Lila, what the hell. You haven't spoken to me at all, you have to let me explain about-"

  "Stop," I say. Surprisingly, he does. "It's over Harrison. It really is. It's not about the other night, although that was certainly the last straw, but it's been coming for a long time. I think we both knew it. There's nothing left for us. It just wasn't working."

  "Lila, I-"

  "Stop," I repeat. "Please, just stop. Take my bag and drop it off with Evelyn. I'll let you know when I get back to Toronto. I just wanted to call and let you now that I was okay." So that you wouldn't freak my parents out.

  "Lila, can we just talk about this? I can change my flight as well."

  "No!" The last thing I want to do is have Harrison still in Vegas trying to meet up with me. I don't want to be responsible for him anymore, and I'm not ready to have the conversation about Chase. He'll say it's too soon. It probably is too soon, but I don't care. It feels right. Chase makes me feel right. "It's over Harry. Please stop texting me. I have to go." I hang up before he gets a chance to say another word. This time I turn my phone completely off. I need a break from my old life for a few days. From Harry, from Evelyn, from everyone. I'm here with Chase, and Chase is the only person I'm interested in spending time with.

  With that thought, I head back into the other room and slip back into bed with him, snuggling up to his warm naked body with my own. This is exactly where I want to be.

  * * *

  It took me three days to even turn my phone back on again. I wasn't exactly avoiding Harry, Evelyn, or anyone else, I simply forgot about it. Chase and I have been busy almost nonstop since then, and whenever we do have a free moment we usually spend it in his hotel without clothes. Not because Harry took my bag back with him to Toronto, either. Chase took me on a little mini shopping spree and bought me enough new outfits to last a week. But the way we've been avoiding wearing any in the hotel room means they'll actually last much longer.

  The only time I've spoken to anyone at all was when I called home from the room phone to let my parents know I was staying a few extra days in Vegas. I let them know that Harry and I had broken up, and used that as an excuse by saying I needed some time away from everyone.

  But today I'm just standing around waiting for Chase to finish up doing a photo shoot for some poker magazine, so I have some time to kill. I can't avoid it forever.

  Reaching into my purse I look for my phone, which is side by side with Chase's at the bottom of my purse. He asked me to hold it and his wallet, as the photographer didn't like the bulge it was creating in his pocket. I pull mine out and switch it back on. As I expected, there are a number of messages from both Evelyn and Harrison. I flip through Harry's quickly. Mostly they're just a mixture of him apologizing and telling me he wants to talk. From the timestamps on them, though, they've been getting less frequent as the days tick by. He hasn't sent any at all today. Maybe he's finally getting the hint that it's over.

  Evelyn's are surprisingly not asking about my relationship with Chase. Well, not only asking about it. She says she has some news about her job and to call her when I have a chance. Evelyn works as a personal assistant at some company. It's always sounded like a glorified secretary to me, but at least she has a job. It pays surprisingly well, too, which has helped me in the past when I've had trouble coming up with my half of the rent on time, which is often. She probably got a bonus or promotion or something. Evelyn has always worked hard, so she deserves it. I feel bad for not talking to her at all these last few days. It's time to rejoin the rest of the world. I need to call her back.

  I glance up to see if they're still taking pictures of Chase, but the photographer is on the other side of the big room fiddling with his camera. Chase is still leaning against the poker table they were using as a prop, but now there are a couple of young women talking to him, one of whom has her hand on his arm as they all laugh. I drop my phone back in my purse and approach them before things get too friendly.

  "Hi," I say, shooting a cold look at the girls who seem oblivious to anything other than Chase. "You all done or just on a break?"

  "Hey beautiful," Chase says, flashing his smile at me and giving me his full attention immediately. "I think we're almost done here. I was just getting a touch up on my hair and makeup."

  "A touch up, eh?" My eyes flit down to the girl's hand that is still on his arm. He pulls it back and she removes it. "They're also fans," he says, his smile a bit more embarrassed now. Both of the girls turn to me now that they see how much attention I'm getting from Chase. "Girls, this is my girlfriend, Lila. Lila, this is Ariel and Sam."

  I attempt to give them a tight, cold smile but I fail, my smile much broader than I mean it to be. Chase called me his girlfriend for the first time. Does he really think of me that way? The girls smile back and then turn away, obviously their touch ups were complete and th
ey were just flirting with Chase. It happens so often now I'm almost immune to it. Almost.

  "Just another few minutes, then we can go for that swim," he says. He touches my arm tenderly, letting it fall down to my hand which he squeezes. Chase has agreed to take me back to his house for a swim, since I don't really like the pool at the hotel. It's very busy, and it seems like every few minutes someone is coming up to talk to Chase. And when they do, some of the women flirt even harder than these two just did. It's a lot worse when they're wearing a bikini and I'm standing right there. I lean forward and give him a kiss, meaning for it to be quick but he pulls me a bit closer, letting it linger.

  "I don't want to mess up your makeup," I say, pulling back. There are a lot of people standing around and I'm not sure I want all the eyes on us. But my excuse is partially true as well. No reason to give those girls a reason to come back. The photographer approaches so I resume my place at the back of the room to watch.

  The pictures continue for a few more minutes before I hear the notification sound of a text message coming from my purse. I fish around and pull out my phone, remembering I had meant to call Evelyn back and hoping it was her. My phone is blank, no new messages. I'm confused for a second and then I remember Chase's phone is in my purse as well. I pull it out and click the display to see the last message.

  11:31 AM Denise: So do you think you can ditch Lila at some point tomorrow so we can get together?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I stare at the phone in my hand as a million different thoughts roll through my head. Denise is a bitch, so it could mean anything. It doesn't mean that Chase is on board with what she's asking. And yet, the way it's written, it almost sounds as if they were having a conversation about it. Like it was something they had been discussing and she was just waiting for a final answer. Of course, it could be written that way on the off chance that I pick the message up, or see his phone, just to piss me off and cause a fight. That definitely seems like something Denise was capable of, but I doubt it. She would have no reason to think I would have seen that particular message. Although maybe there were others all worded similarly. I know it's an invasion of privacy, but I have to know more. If they are having a conversation about me, if he's still having any kind of physical relationship with her, I deserve to know.

  I click to turn his phone on but I'm prompted for a password. The only message unblocked is the current one.

  Damn.

  Taking a deep breath to steady my pounding heart, I force away the negative thoughts. I don't know anything. I shouldn't have looked at the message in the first place. I have to trust that Chase will tell me if Denise is up to any funny business. Then again, I've only known Chase for less than a week and who knows how long she's known him. Can I really trust him at all? He's a poker player. He makes his money bluffing, which is really just another word for lying. He makes money by keeping his emotions in check and his thoughts to himself. Can you ever really know someone like that? I suddenly miss Evelyn. My best friend always had my back, and I feel shitty again for ignoring her all week.

  "You ready?" Chase's voice startles me and I jump. "Shit, sorry. You okay?"

  "Yeah," I nod and then work up a smile. "Just thinking about a friend back home." Technically true.

  Chase nods, putting his hand on me so that he can rub empathetic circles on my back. It makes me feel instantly better. Harrison would have probably made some joke about me missing my friends but Chase can instantly tell that I just need a bit of reassurance and compassion. I must be misreading the whole thing with Denise. He'll tell me about it in his own time if it's anything.

  We leave the photo shoot and hop into his waiting limo on our way to his house. He's sitting across from me on the bench seats as usual.

  "Sorry about those girls." He shoots his half smile at me as he reaches forward to squeeze my knee. "Sometimes fans can get a little personal. They feel like they know you so well after seeing you on TV that they forget you don't know them at all."

  I shrug. I'm over it. I'm more disturbed by the message from Denise than a couple of fan girls. I reach into my purse and pull out his wallet and phone, handing them back to him. I watch as he turns the phone on and flips through it briefly, presumably checking his messages.

  "My bike is ready."

  "What?" I'm not sure what he's talking about.

  He looks up at me. "My motorcycle. It's been in the shop all week. You ever been on one?"

  I shake my head.

  "Really? Never? Well then that's what we'll do tomorrow."

  "I don't know," I protest. "Motorcycles seem pretty dangerous."

  "Oh, Lila. You gotta live a little, babe! There's nothing like riding really fast in the desert, the wind wiping against your body and the scenery going by you in a blur. It gets your heart pumping, the blood in your veins will feel alive."

  "I thought that's what sex is for," I smile and wink.

  Chase laughs. "I'm not going to argue with that. But if I can't keep you naked and sequestered in my room 24 hours a day, then there are other ways to feel exhilarated."

  "I guess."

  "You'll love it, I promise. You have to live a little, Lila. You don't always have to be so safe!"

  "I'm not. I do!" I protest, but he has me pegged. I've always lived too safely, afraid to take chances. In fairness, I think it's probably easier to live a little closer to the edge when you're rich than when you're struggling to make rent each month. It's not like I have friends with motorcycles or the money to go diving with sharks in Australia or anything.

  "We'll see," he says. "Tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow," I agree. I'm not exactly looking forward to it, but at least if he's making plans with me for tomorrow then he isn't planning on ditching me for Denise. I'm feeling better about that situation already.

  We arrive at the house and he lets us in after telling his driver to go for lunch but to bring us something on his way back. We'll have a later lunch so that we can get in the pool right away.

  I haven't been out in his backyard yet, and it's gorgeous. I note how well manicured the lawn is, considering he's never here to take care of it.

  "I have a service for that." Of course.

  The fence around the property is high enough that he doesn't have to worry about any of his neighbors watching us, giving us the privacy that we lack whenever we go to the pool at the hotel. Or whenever we leave the house at all, really. I've never understood the complaint about celebrities being bothered by people until I started seeing Chase, and he isn't even known outside the poker or gambling world. I can't imagine what it would be like for a movie star.

  I follow him to the side of the yard where there is a little small hut with a couple of doors used as a changing area. He goes into one side after motioning me to go into the other. Once inside I pull my bathing suit out of the bag I brought and strip off my clothes. As I'm about to put it on, a naughty thought creeps into my head. Instead, I drop it onto the floor and wait until I hear Chase exit the other room. I step out completely naked and watch as his jaw drops, and he lowers his shades to let his eyes roam over his body. He's wearing a shorts style swimsuit himself but lets out a low whistle as he sees me.

  "I think you forgot something," he smiles.

  "Well, you said I don't know how to live dangerously..."

  Chase laughs. "This is your idea of living on the edge, then?"

  I put my hands over my breasts and pretend to turn back to the changing room. "If you don't like it, I can go put my suit on."

  "Definitely not!" He grabs my arm and pulls me to him. "I have no complaints about what you're... not wearing."

  "You're over dressed for this party, though." I hook my fingers into the waistband of his trunks and yank them down to his feet.

  "Hey," he exclaims as I straighten up and kiss him quickly on the lips.

  "Shut up," I reply. I put my hands on his chest and push him backwards. The surprised look on his face as he hits the water is priceless.


  His head breaks the surface and he glares at me in mock anger. "So that's how it's going to be, is it?"

  I laugh and nod right before jumping in next to him. When I come up he kisses me on the lips and puts his arms around me.

  "So you're not mad?" I ask right before kissing him again.

  "Of course not." He kisses me back. "I like seeing your version of living dangerously. But tomorrow, you're going to see mine." I open my mouth to ask for details but he catches my lips and tongue with his own, and all sense of speech deserts me. Whatever retaliation he comes up with tomorrow will surely be worth this.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  "Just give me a few minutes to settle up and we'll get out of here," Chase says, squeezing my hand and then leaving me in the motorcycle showroom as he follows the owner into the office to pay for his bike repairs. He still hasn't told me where he's taking me later, and I have to admit to feeling a bit nervous. Yesterday's skinny dipping session really was one of the most risky things I've ever done, and I was actually relieved that he didn't try to have sex with me in the pool. I was embarrassed enough. But after our swim we barely made it into the kitchen before Chase took me right there on the floor. Clearly the idea of doing risky things was a turn on for him. Honestly, I was pretty hot as well. The only annoying part was how quickly we had to get going again.

  Chase had another quick meeting back at the hotel with his agent, forcing us to eat our lunch in the car on the way back. He led a very active and busy life, and I wasn't quite used to it yet. Harry and I were more likely to sit around in our pajama pants and watch TV than to be constantly on the go. I don't miss doing that as much as we did, but I wouldn't mind if Chase would stop for at least one day and spend some time at his place just chilling.