“They gotta fix that rule, man.” Brent shakes his head, continuing their conversation about video replay. “There’s gonna be a bad call, and it’s going to impact the outcome of a game.”
“A whole playoff series, potentially,” Jeff says.
“True.”
“That’s happened in the past, though,” Andy says. “Calls got missed on the ice. Goalie gets steamrollered, it never gets called, goal stands even though it was clearly interference.”
“That’s true too.”
Now I see the manager dude is back talking to the guys again. This gives me a nasty feeling in my gut. This is the guy who told Lacey she had to go sit with them. I frown as I watch them talk. Is she in trouble?
Fuck, what kind of place is this? I mean, I get that there are working girls here in Vegas. Sex is everywhere. But Lacey doesn’t strike me as someone who’s into that. She was trying to hide how pissed off she was, but I could see it.
I straighten, my senses on alert as the manager appears to be apologizing profusely for something, placating the customers. I narrow my eyes and take another gulp of spirits, which burn their way down my chest.
“Right, Théo?”
I blink and turn to Jeff, my boss. Former boss. “What?”
He laughs. “Time to cut you off?”
I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good, sorry.”
“Should they do away with reviewing goaltender interference?” Jeff asks again.
“No. We have the technology, let’s use it.”
“But they’re not using it right,” Andy objects. “Nobody knew they were going to challenge every fucking call.”
“The problem is, goaltender interference isn’t black and white. The puck crosses the line or doesn’t—black and white. But whether the contact was incidental or intentional, that’s a lot harder to decide.” I rub my chin. “Hard to figure out someone’s intention on a video. And the rule is so subjective that two similar plays will have different results on different nights, hell, even in the same game. Even worse, some of this year’s calls were really hard to understand.” I’m usually cautious about airing my opinions on league governance in public, but I’m comfortable with these guys.
“No shit.”
We get into a discussion about possible changes to the rule, but then I’m distracted again when I see Lacey across the bar. She has a backpack slung over her shoulder, and as she walks down a hallway, the lighting glints on her face. Her face is wet. Is she fucking crying?
I shoot up out of my seat.
Then I pause. I have no idea what’s going on here, and it’s none of my business. It’s not like me to spontaneously jump into a situation without carefully considering all the consequences.
Fuck it.
I stride after her.
“What the…?” I hear the guys muttering behind me.
“Lacey.” I call to her as she reaches the elevator. The lobby area on this floor is empty, dimly lit, with music pumping through speakers, the hostess stand around the corner.
She starts and turns to me, those big eyes glossy but also flashing sparks. “What?”
I stop a couple of feet from her. “What’s going on? Why are you crying?”
She closes her eyes briefly then shakes her head. “This is not your business. Don’t worry.”
“There’s something weird going on.” I set my chin determinedly.
“Okay, fine. I just got fired.” She lifts both hands.
“Whaaat?” I stare at her. “Just like that?”
She hitches a shoulder and swipes a hand across one cheek. “Yeah. Just like that.”
“Was it because you wouldn’t sit with those guys?”
Her lips pucker up as she considers my question, then her gaze shifts past me, over my shoulder. I turn and see the aforementioned guys in their crappy suits, apparently also coming after Lacey. Oh no. Fuck no.
I slide my hand around her upper arm and gently pull her away from the elevator door. “You’re coming with me.”
She inhales a shaky breath, her eyes darting back and forth between me and the other dudes.
“She’s coming with us,” the taller guy says. “Right, Lacey?” His smile is menacing.
I feel Lacey shaking and I pull her closer. What the fuck is happening here? “Your choice,” I murmur in her ear.
Her trembling intensifies and she sinks her teeth into that plush bottom lip. Her eyes flicker back and forth. What the fuck? Is she actually considering whether to go with them? I squint at her.
“I’m with him,” she finally says, lifting her chin and speaking to Douche One and Douche Two.
I give them a slitty-eyed look and lead her away.
“This isn’t over, lovely Lacey,” Douche One calls as we walk away, his voice hard. “We know where to find you.”
That sounded like a threat.
I glance down to see Lacey’s beautiful face scrunched up. She inhales unevenly.
“You okay?”
She nods, her small chin coming up again.
I take her to our table and all heads snap around when I settle her on the couch next to me, nudging Jimmy to shift over. We’re both big guys, but Lacey’s little ass doesn’t take up much room. We’re pressed body to body, though.
“Lacey here just got fired,” I say cheerfully to everyone. “Before she got the big tip we were going to leave her. Right?” I meet some eyes, hoisting an eyebrow.
“Uh, yeah,” the guys all mumble.
“So I brought her back. I think she needs a drink, though. Who’s looking after us now?” I search the room.
“Probably Crystal,” Lacey murmurs beside me, her fingers twisted together, maybe to hide the fact that they’re shaking. She shifts on the couch.
“That her?” I gesture.
“Um, yeah.”
I wave a hand and catch Crystal’s attention. A stunning tall blonde in a short black dress that almost looks as good as Lacey’s, she starts toward us. Then she spots Lacey and her eyes pop open.
Lacey gives her former co-worker a weak smile. “Hey.”
“Lacey here would like a drink,” I say. I look down at Lacey. “What would you like?”
“Um.” She swallows. “This is awkward.”
One corner of my mouth lifts. “Who cares? You don’t work here anymore. You’re a paying customer.”
“I’ll have a Jack Daniel’s on the rocks. Please.”
I nod approvingly. I’d been ready to order her a tequila shot if she asked for some kind of fruity cocktail, because clearly she needs something strong.
“Okay, why did you get fired?”
Her bottom lip quivers.
Shit. I don’t want her to cry again. “Never mind.”
She waves a hand. “Those assholes told my boss that I changed the amount of the tip they left me on the credit card slip. They showed him how the numbers were changed to increase the tip, but I didn’t do it.”
“Assholes is right,” I snarl.
“Enrico believed them.”
“He’s an asshole too.”
She sighs. “He really isn’t. I don’t know why he was acting so weird tonight. Unless…” She pauses.
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“Why’d they do that? Just to get back at you? That’s beyond assholery.”
“It’s a long story.” She glances around at the other guys.
I get it. It’s none of our business. Call me crazy though, I’m concerned about her. And about the comment Douche One made as they left, which was definitely threatening. She’s in trouble of some kind.
I’m leaving tomorrow, so there’s nothing I can do about it, but at least I helped her out tonight.
>
Crystal arrives with Lacey’s drink, and I watch Lacey tip it to her lips and take a big swallow.
“Man.” She shakes her head, her lips gleaming with the spirits. “What a day. Cheers.” She holds up the glass, then takes another swig.
“Attagirl.”
Some of the guys disappear to go play a few rounds of blackjack, including Jimmy, so I shift away from Lacey to give her space. Not that I mind having her pressed up against me. But that’s sure as hell not what this is about. Now that we’re almost alone, Brent and Jeff sitting across from us arguing about whether players should be suspended for licking (it happened, no shit), I ask again, “Wanna tell me now what’s going on?”
She’s making short work of her drink, and it’s apparently loosening her tongue. “My brother owes them money.” She tosses down the last of the Jack.
I lift a hand and catch Crystal’s eye. I hold up my own empty glass and point at Lacey’s empty one as well. Crystal nods.
“I don’t know where Chris is,” Lacey continues. “He disappeared days ago. After cleaning out my bank account.” Bitterness laces her words.
“Jesus.”
She meets my eyes. “This isn’t the first time this has happened.” The curve of her lips is glum. “He’s a gambling addict.”
“Well, shit.”
“I know.” She heaves a huge sigh. “It’s been going on for years. Since before our mom died. As if we didn’t have enough financial problems because of that. She was sick for a couple of years, and I…well, we didn’t always have the money for the treatment she needed. I got into debt myself and Chris got this crazy idea that he could make enough money gambling to help pay for her medical care.”
My gut cramps up hearing all this.
“Sometimes it worked,” she admits, accepting the next drink from Crystal. I take mine as well. “And he felt like a hero, contributing. But then it wouldn’t work, and he’d lose money, and…he started going into debt too. Only not just with Visa and Mastercard.” She lets out a short laugh. “Who are bad enough to owe money to, believe me.”
One problem I’ve never had in my life is financial troubles. But I’m not an idiot. I know not everyone’s been as lucky that way as me. “Yeah.”
“I know he’s been dealing with some bad actors. They’ve showed up at the apartment looking for him. But none of them have ever threatened me before.”
“How did they threaten you?”
“Apparently my brother is trying to pimp me out.” She takes another gulp of booze, blinking rapidly, and I can see the pain in her shiny eyes.
I slap a hand down on the couch between us. “Fuck that!”
“Preferably not.” She gives a watery smile. “I mean, I’ve worked a lot of bizarre jobs to try to get ahead financially, but I’ve always hoped I wouldn’t have to resort to prostitution.”
“Hell no!”
She slumps against the back of the couch. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I get the feeling those dudes aren’t going to give up. Chris must owe them a whack of money. Oh my God.” She rubs her forehead. “I’ve bailed him out before, but now I have no money either.”
“Maybe it’s better not to bail him out,” I offer.
A puff of air escapes her lips. “Yeah. I know. It’s just…hard.” She turns big brown eyes on me. “He’s my brother.”
Given my strained relationship with my own brother and the fact that her asshole brother tried to pimp her out to some mobbed-up bookies he was stupid enough to do business with, I have a hard time mustering a lot of sympathy. But the look in her eyes—sad, forlorn, hopeless—tugs at something inside me.
Hold the fuck up. Is she after something? I can’t get suckered by a hard-luck story from a Vegas cocktail waitress I don’t even know. This could be a total con job.
I’m smart, but I’m not always the best judge of people, which I’ve learned the hard way.
Her smile seems sweet and sincere…she genuinely seemed terrified of those dudes. She can’t be pulling a con on me. Can she?
“You care about him.” I manage to sound empathetic rather than suspicious.
“Yeah.” Her lips droop and she drops her gaze to the amber liquid in her glass. “He’s the only family I have.”
“Christ. I wish my brother was the only family I had.”
She turns shocked eyes on me.
“In fact, I wish I didn’t have a brother.”
Her mouth drops open. “You don’t mean that!”
“Okay, maybe not all the time.” The truth is, I actually miss my brother like hell, even though I’m pissed at him. “But sometimes…yeah. My family’s, uh…well, basically we’re one tent short of a full-blown circus.” She has no idea who my family is, so I feel okay saying this. If anyone else criticizes my family though, they’ll wear their dick as a necklace.
She laughs. “Well, at least you have a family.” Then her expression shifts as if she too is realizing the extent of her brother’s betrayal. And I feel in my gut that she’s not making all this shit up. “On the other hand, maybe you’re right. Life without family would be a lot easier. If I only had myself to worry about…I’d be golden!” Her face clears and she tosses back more Jack Daniel’s.
“There you go.” I clink my glass against hers. “Seriously though, when you’re dealing with addiction, bailing them out isn’t really helping them. They need to hit rock bottom and figure things out themselves. The only one who can save him…is him.”
She scrunches up her face adorably, then huffs. “I know. I know. I went to a few Gam-Anon meetings. It’s just easier to say than to do when…well.”
“I get it.” Probably if my brother was on fire, and I had a glass of water…I’d drink it. No. I’d save him. Maybe. “Well, we have something in common. My brother fucked me over too.”
Her eyes round. She sips her drink. “Really? How?”
“He stole my girlfriend.”
“Oh no.”
I make it sound casual, like we were fourteen or something, but it was anything but casual. It basically ripped my guts out. I shrug. “She cheated on me with him, I caught them together, kicked her out, and they ended up together.”
She blinks, drawing my attention to long, thick eyelashes. “Oh wow. That really sucks. How could a brother do that?”
I give her a look.
“Oh. Yeah.” She drops her gaze again and sighs. “People really suck, don’t they?”
“Sometimes, yeah.” I study the curve of her cheek, the arc of her lips, the strands of hair around her face—I’m not sure of the color…blond? Light brown? Her skin is perfect, smooth and glowy, all the way down from her cheeks to the opening of her dress that reveals more curves…enticing and lush. My gaze wanders farther, to the hem of the dress riding up on smooth thighs. My groin tightens.
Ah hell.
Yeah, yeah, I’m attracted to her. But it’s my last night in town and even though the guys joked about it, I’m not out to get laid.
I wouldn’t do that to Lacey anyway, since she’s had a rough day. Rough…years, even, it sounds like.
“I should go, I guess.” She doesn’t move.
“What are you going to do? About those bookies your brother owes money to? About your brother?”
“I don’t know. But I always figure things out.” She smiles and it’s thin but genuine. “Really.”
“I believe you.” She shouldn’t have to figure shit like this out. It’s not fair. “Where are you going to go? It sounds like they know where you live.” I frown. “You can’t go home.”
Her eyes shadow and she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah. Shit. I guess I can go crash at my friend Karine’s place tonight. Although I’d hate to have those guys show up there. Karine and her husband just had
a baby.”
What’s she going to do, though? She can’t stay away from her home forever, trying to avoid those guys. Worry gnaws at my gut. “Well, have one more drink.”
“I shouldn’t. I have to take the bus to Karine’s place.”
“I’ll get you to Karine’s place.”
Her smile is sardonic. “I don’t even know you.”
“Hey.” I lay my hand on my chest. “I helped you out.”
“True. I’m sorry. You can understand why I’m a little…wary, though.” To my surprise, she reaches out to pat my arm, and when her hand lingers, my blood heats up. Our eyes meet. Heat pulses between us. She feels it too.
“Yeah,” I manage to grate out. “I get it.”
“Okay.” Her voice is husky. “One more drink.”
The guys come back from the blackjack tables then, and they’re whooping and throwing their arms around one another. Danny holds up a huge wad of cash. “I won!” he shouts.
Holy crap.
“Here’s your tip,” Danny declares, handing a bunch of bills to Lacey. They’re fucking hundred dollar bills.
She slowly takes the money, glancing at me, then the bills. I have no idea how much is in there, but I know it’s a good tip. “No.” She shakes her head. “I can’t take all this.”
“Sure, you can.” Danny grins. “I have lots more.” He waves the money.
“Shit, man.” Jeff grabs his arm to keep him from flaunting his cash. “You want someone to roll you on the way out of here?”
“Best way to avoid that is to spend this.” He waves over Crystal and orders bottles of Piper-Heidsieck.
Jesus. He’s even more hammered than I am now.
Lacey’s laughing at him, but still holding the money. I nudge her backpack, sitting on the floor next to the couch, toward her so she can put it away. “We were going to tip you,” I say in a low voice.
She nods and pulls a small purse out of the bag to tuck the money into, clearly still uncomfortable with this. “I appreciate it.”
I know it’s not anywhere near what she needs to get her brother out of trouble, but I hope she doesn’t even try to do that. She needs to use that money for herself. She needs to cut him loose and let him face the consequences of his actions. I also know from family experience that’s easy to say but not so easy to do.
Play to Win Page 3