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Gabriella
Ispend another night tossing and turning, my dreams filled with images of Carter and Dominic. Needless to say, I don’t wake up at five in the morning to go to the gym. Even worse, I’m seven minutes late to my breakfast meeting with Anna.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologize to her as I slide into my seat.
“No worries,” she says easily. “How’s it going, Gabby? Francisco still being an ass?”
A waiter glides over and places a menu in front of me, saving me from having to answer her question. “What’s good here?” I ask Anna instead.
“Get the Eggs Benedict,” she replies. “They’re fantastic.”
I order the eggs and a pot of tea. The waiter disappears, and I turn to my co-worker. The last time I saw Anna was at the company holiday party. “You’re leaving Karpis? How come?”
“You haven’t heard? I thought the gossip would have spread by now. Leo Norris made a pass at me, and I reported it to HR.”
My mouth falls open. “And they fired you?” I ask, outraged. Leo Norris is a high-profile client, and God knows we PR reps are expendable, but this sucks.
“No, I quit.” She shrugs. “You know how it is, Gabby. Norris is more important than me. Karpis & Associates won’t fire me outright, not in the era of MeToo, but they’ll sideline me. I knew my career with them was over the moment I went to HR.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Don’t look so glum.” She flashes me a smile. “It’s not the end of the world. Nicky offered me a job, and I was tempted, but it would have involved too much travel. She tours constantly. I’m going back to Miami. My family owns a chain of delis. I’m heading up their marketing department.” She shakes her head wryly. “Twenty-seven stores, and they barely have a website. No Twitter. No Instagram. I’m going to drag them, kicking and screaming, into the twenty-first century.”
“That sounds awesome. I’m a little envious.”
Our food arrives. Anna waits for the waiter to head out of earshot, and then she gives me a piercing look. “Don’t tell me you don’t want out, because I know you do. You’re long overdue for a promotion, but Francisco only hands those to his favorites.”
Oh, what’s the point in pretending? I know Anna well enough to know that she won’t betray my confidence. “I want out,” I admit. “I was saving up to start my own firm. I thought I’d be able to leave in six months, but life threw me a curveball.” That’s one way of putting it. “It’s going to be longer now.”
Anna leans forward, ignoring her Eggs Benedict. “How long does Paul have you up here?”
“A couple of weeks, he said. Until he can find your replacement.”
“Get him to keep you here for the duration of Nicky’s run,” she replies. “Nicky isn’t thrilled with Karpis & Associates. It’s a large agency, and she feels lost in the shuffle. If you do a good job while you’re here, she’d hire you. How many clients do you need to break even?”
“It depends on the size of the account, but I could do it with as little as six.” The possibilities start running through my mind. If I already have one client, then maybe I won’t need as much money in reserve before I launch. It’s risky, sure, but then, so is losing almost a hundred grand in a high-stakes poker game, and somehow, I seemed to have managed to do that.
Stay five weeks. Spend all day in Dominic’s casino, knowing that the two men that haunt my dreams are one elevator ride away.
It’ll get you closer to your goal.
“I’ll talk to Paul.”
After breakfast,I head back up to my room. My laptop has turned itself off—software updates, gah!—and while I wait for it to restart, I keep my promise to Carter and text Sammy. I need to get in on a game in Atlantic City, I type. Can you help?
Sammy doesn’t text me back, not right away. It’s almost three when he calls me. “I don’t like texting,” he says. “You left town, dollface. You aren’t planning on running on me, are you?”
I bite back my snarky retort. As sharks go, Sammy isn’t the worst one in the ocean. He’ll still beat you up if you don’t pay, but he won’t mess with you if you don’t mess with him. But it’s probably still a good idea not to antagonize the guy.
“Would I be texting you if I were running?” So much for not antagonizing the guy. “I’m in Atlantic City on work. Don’t worry, you’ll get your money.” I take a deep breath and try for a conciliatory tone. “I’ve got to play somewhere, Sammy.”
Sammy has no reason not to help me. He’s a businessman, and he wants to get paid. Still, my nerves prickle as I wait for him to answer.
“I don’t like it,” he says finally. “Gabriella, the guy who runs the underground games in Atlantic City is bad news. Give Mitchell a pass. Play at the casinos, okay? The Hellenic, the Grand River, they both have good reputations. I’ll even give you another week to pay your debt.”
Aww. Sammy’s watching out for me. That’s almost sweet.
“I can’t play at the Grand River.”
