“How may I assist, Mr. Hathaway?” the older gentleman asks in a discreet tone.
I hope Daniel’s going to say he’d like to exit the game and take me home before he ends up losing even the last two grand of the twenty-five thousand dollars he put up at the start of the night.
But that’s not what he does.
“Would it be possible to extend my credit a bit tonight?”
The older man inclines his silver head. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem, sir. How much would you require?”
Daniel considers for less than a second. “Fifty.”
Holy shit. It’s all I can do not to gape.
“Of course, sir.” Gibson’s expression doesn’t even flicker in reaction. “I’ll go see to it at once.”
As soon as the man has left us, I pull Daniel away from the table. Panic is drumming inside me, rising into a growing sense of dread. “Let’s go now. Please.”
“Go?” He looks at me as if I’m the crazy one. “Sweetheart, I’m in the middle of a game.”
I shake my head. “You’ve already played. You’ve already lost a lot of money. Now you’re talking about risking even more. Seventy-five thousand dollars, Daniel?”
“I can win it back. I just need the means to try.” Where my hushed voice sounds strangled, his low tones are measured and resolute. He cups my face, drops a reassuring kiss on the tense line of my mouth. “Everything’s under control. Trust me.”
Trust him.He doesn’t know how much he’s asking of me. How hard it is for me to surrender my trust to anyone, particularly a man.
But I do trust Daniel. In three months, he has never given me the slightest reason to doubt him. He’s never let me down, not even once.
Gibson returns with a tray containing five rows of chips. With a nod at Daniel, he sets the additional stacks down on the table for him.
“Come on, now. Give me another kiss for good luck.”
I comply half-heartedly, tilting my face up to meet his lips. “Good luck.”
He resumes his place at the table and the new game begins. I don’t have the stomach to watch anymore. My chest feels as if it’s got a swarm of bees buzzing inside it. My skin feels flushed and tight, crawling with prickles of anxiety.
I have to get out of this room.
What I really want to do is call an Uber and go straight home, but I can’t abandon Daniel. I never would, but especially not when the stakes are suddenly so high.
But if I don’t move my legs and get a little air, I just might pass out.
With the game underway, I approach Gibson where he stands near the bar. “Is there a restroom somewhere I could use?”
“Of course.” He walks me out of the salon and gestures down the hallway. “Third door on the left, miss.”
“Thank you.”
The door is locked when I get there. I decide to wait the several minutes it takes before the ornately carved panel swings open and a pair of model-thin, beautiful women about my age stumble out together. I recognize them from the salon, the much-younger companions of a couple of the middle-aged men playing cards with Daniel.
They giggle as they step past me in their body-hugging sheaths and designer shoes. I don’t miss the dismissive flick of their gazes as they take in my simple black A-line dress and kitten heels. I’d felt pretty when Daniel picked me up for dinner tonight. Now, I may as well be wearing jeans and a T-shirt.
“Excuse us,” one of the women says after a moment.
Her friend just giggles, brushing her fingertips under her nose and wiping away the traces of cocaine that dusted her nostrils when they emerged from the bathroom.
I step inside the powder room and lock the door behind me. Even this room is luxurious. Whorled-wood millwork and gleaming brass fixtures. Warm golden light softens the tension I see in my reflection in the large mirror.
I don’t know how long I linger there, letting the cold water run into the marble sink as I stare sightlessly into the glass and wonder what the hell I’m doing.
