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Couldn’t agree more, buddy.
“Interesting story,” Edgar said, then stuffed his hand in his pants’ pocket and pulled out a brass key. “Just so you know, I’ll be watching you carefully.”
MMA Edgar. Also smart.
Lucky for me, nothing untoward was planned at this game, other than monitoring another lap dog. My job was simple. Sit down, play decent hands, wait for Mel to finish up, then call it and leave. So easy peasy that it was obvious why Theo allowed it to happen. This was the safest thing I’d been up to since the routine of getting up and making it to my morning high school classes every day.
“This key allows you to re-access this room,” Edgar said. “Show it to security upstairs whenever you have to exit to have a smoke, or other … ladylike things.”
Ah, men. Always assuming women will constantly need the bathroom.
“Thank you,” I said, palming the key and dropping it in my purse. It was small entertainment to think theclankof it against the phone could’ve hurt Theo’s ears.
“Good luck.”
Edgar trotted up the stairs, and I waited to see which direction he turned when he reached the top. Right, which meant that was where the security monitors lay.
I pushed the door open and wandered into an environment that had become my home.
There was no focal point in this room. No shiny fixtures, carved Renaissance-style wood, diamond chandeliers, nothing. I was in a secret add-on, a room unknown to any guests passing through the main entranceway and onto marble tiles rippling with precious stone. The duke’s son—Henry—had a man-cave that, with any other guy living with his parents, would have contained video game consoles and special gaming chairs, computers and a flatscreen as the centerscape. Here, there was thin carpeting as to mute distracting footsteps, a single medium-sized flatscreen showing a recording of the French Open, and one circular table, stapled over with the most expensive purple felt money could buy.
Wasn’t purple the color of the Royals? Ballsy.
As the men quieted their conversation and chips stoppedclickingagainst each other, I murmured to the man seated just at the door with an open lockbox, trading cash for chips. He ran the cash through an electronic money-counter. Itswhirrrrrechoed through the silence, but at its end, he nodded with satisfaction and passed over a plastic tray containing four rows of chips in green, blue, purple, and red respectively.
Five people were seated at the round table. I took the second-to-last available chair on the right, sitting down with a vague smile. A few flickers of interest, but otherwise, the men stayed with their chips. Henry sat across from me and lifted his fingers in hello, an acknowledgment of my presence. The others were in form-fitting designer suits, tailored with Englishman’s precision. All blazers fit them perfectly—a sign of true wealth.
And as usual, all men.
My clutch lay unobtrusively on my lap, the clasp open, and I hoped Theo could hear. I pictured him in his car, sheltered by the night, the only light coming from the reflective screen of his phone as he listened carefully, earbuds in, and tapped his index finger anxiously against the case. It was one of his very minor tells—just a few taps before he caught himself and schooled both his body and his mind. I wanted to be beside him, palming his cheek and smoothing out the lines.
“We’re all here,” Henry said. He’d unbuttoned his collar, and if he had a tie, it was discarded. In his House, I supposed he could dress however he wanted.
“Nope, we’re missing one,” a man seated two from my left responded.
A quick scan of faces, and I noted Mel had not yet arrived. Was he going to come at all? Our planning assumed he’d be here, that Trace was eager for more cash so he could leave this country and his crime behind.
“If he ain’t coming, we ain’t waiting,” Henry said. “I’m ready to play.”
“As am I,” I said.
The players jolted at my voice, sounding so light but playing so hard on the vowels the way their accents didn’t. It was crucial to speak up, both so Theo could locate my voice and to utilize my best weapon. I chose icy-cool, unperturbed, graceful, and sweet-toned. It was enough to get even the savviest players to look up at the sultriness, glance over, and study—if only for a second. It was in that single second of appreciating the sexiness of a woman that they gave up their tells.
“Who are you, again?” asked the first man who’d spoken. He remained crisp in his navy suit, mid-fifties, with more salt than pepper hair. His eyes were keen.
“I apologize for not introducing myself. I’m Vivienne. A pleasure.”
“Mm.”
“A sheik’s princess, is that right?” Henry added. “You have a spare yacht you can loan us?” He laughed at his own joke.
“I believe my prince has three.” I smiled.
“What’s he doing allowing you out, looking so beautiful without him?”
This came from the man on my right. I thought of Theo. “He knows that if he doesn’t loosen the leash a little, I’ll bite him.”
The man guffawed, then patted my arm in a fatherly way. “I like ‘er. Let’s play.”
