Betting on Hope (31 page)

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Authors: Kay Keppler

BOOK: Betting on Hope
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Long-term, card players were not for her. But for right now—she wanted to lean a little.

“That was nice, what you did,” she said. “Thank you.”

He rested his cheek against her hair and she felt herself melt.

“Don’t thank me until Jack gets that truck back by dinner time.”

“Whatever he can do is great. Have him send us the bill.”

“He said he’d settle for carrots.”

Hope smiled into Tanner’s shoulder. “No, he didn’t. I really am grateful, Tanner.”

Tanner rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Grateful enough to go for a swim at my place?”

 Hope leaned away from him and looked into his eyes. He smiled, a slow and wicked smile, a smile of promise. His eyes held heat, too, and mischief. But his jaw was determined. Hope felt a shiver run down her spine. He was flirting, but he had Intentions. She knew it.

Would she be willing to go swimming? The idea was attractive, but she feared the waters might be too deep.

Faith closed the phone and turned back to them. She looked happier.

“Jack said he’d try, but no promises,” she said. “He said he’d call me. It sounds like he knows what he’s doing.”

Tanner nodded. “He does. He will.”

Faith nodded. “Okay. I’m heading upstairs to see Amber. I know you guys need to get back to the casino. I’ll be fine. Thanks, you guys.” She gave them each a hug, taking care not to jar her injured arm.

“Watch your hairdo when you get up there,” Tanner warned her as she released him. “Trust me, it’s at risk.” He left to retrieve the car from the parking garage while Hope walked Faith to the elevator.

“Mom will get here as soon as she can,” she told Faith. “She was coming to see Amber anyway, and now she can help you with the vegetable delivery, too.”

As soon as the elevator doors closed behind her sister, Hope headed for the emergency room’s side exit, where Tanner would be waiting with the car. She was shocked as she walked down the hallway to see Big Julie Saladino lying on a gurney.

Was everybody she knew in the hospital today?

“Mr. Saladino! Is that you?”

Big Julie opened his eyes, cut and swollen with purple bruises. His shoulders were bare underneath the thin blanket that covered him, and Hope thought he probably wasn’t wearing anything at all underneath it. Why was he naked?

“What happened?” she asked.

“Fell,” he said through a cut lip. “Who’re you? Oh, wait. You’re the broad wants to play cards on Saturday. You’re lookin’ better than when we met.” He gave Hope a slow appraisal that made her blush.

“Um, yes, thank you. Baby’s been taking me shopping. I do want to play on Saturday if the game’s still on. How badly are you hurt?”

“Game’s on. This is nothin’. You should have seen me the time after—well, never mind. This ain’t nothin’, that’s all.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Can I get you anything?”

“Nah. Thanks, though. They’re gonna take me for an MRI pretty soon. It’s backed up. How do you figure that? Don’t we pay taxes? That’s what I want to know.”

“I’ll call Baby for you, how about that? Take care of yourself. I’ll see you Saturday,” Hope said, taking out her phone. She gave him a little wave as she pushed her way out of the side door.

“Baby?” she asked when she connected. “Did you know that Big Julie is in the hospital? I just ran into him at Las Vegas General.”

Baby gasped. “Really? And he didn’t call me?”

Hope paused, thinking about the naked gangster lying on the gurney. “I don’t think he has his phone with him. He’s all cut and bruised. He said he’d been in a fall.”

“Is he hurt bad?”

Hope saw Tanner drive out of the parking garage and head her way.

“He
looks
bad, but he says it’s nothing. I didn’t talk to a doctor.”

“I gotta get right over there! Thanks, Hope. I owe you!” Baby hung up, and Hope ran to meet Tanner waiting in the car.

 

A nurse came over to check on Big Julie while he waited for the MRI. They really had to find him something to wear. Having this man lying naked in the hallway, even if he was covered by a blanket, was not appropriate.

The patient seemed to be asleep, so the nurse decided not to wake him. Sleep could be the best healer, and she’d called his wife. She said she was coming over right away. Lots of times family members could perk up a patient when they needed it most.

 

Entering the hospital, Marilyn saw a young, vampy-looking blond running towards her. With a shock, she realized that the tramp was the same one she’d followed in the casino a few days before.

Big Julie’s slut
. She was
here
. Marilyn felt her teeth grind together. She’d thought after that fight—well, she’d thought wrong. The slut was still here. The nerve of Big Julie. When she thought about everything she’d done for him, and this was the thanks she got. Well, she’d show him, and that cheap bottle blond, too.

Hurrying now, she went up to the receptionist and asked for Big Julie’s room.

“415C,” the receptionist said.

Turning, Marilyn saw that her rival had heard this, too. Snarling, she stormed for the elevator, the tramp in hot pursuit.

 

Baby realized in shock that the woman asking for Big Julie’s room must be Marilyn. After all this time, she finally was meeting the wife, if you wanted to call this “meeting.” Marilyn was just about what Baby expected—way older than herself, overweight, her hair dyed a flat reddish brown. Baby couldn’t see what Big Julie still saw in Marilyn, but obviously the big dope was afraid of her or lazy or something, because here she was and she sure wasn’t looking like she was going upstairs to ask Big Julie for a divorce.

But Baby knew what Big Julie wanted. Big Julie wanted to divorce Marilyn to be with her. And if Marilyn thought she could just kick her out of the hospital when Big Julie needed her the most, Baby would just have to show Marilyn how wrong she was.

They rode the elevator in silence to the fourth floor. When the doors opened, Baby sped down the hallway toward Big Julie’s room. Marilyn was surprisingly fit for a woman of her size and age, and Baby could hear her pounding footsteps behind her as they rushed down the corridor. And then there was the room, and Baby burst in, Marilyn right behind her.

Big Julie, bloody and broken, but unbowed, lay supine on a white hospital bed. A nurse leaned over him, gently adjusting a pillow.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” Marilyn said from behind her.

Big Julie looked toward the doorway. “I was wondering how long it would be before youse found me,” he said.

“How are you feeling?” Baby asked, rushing in and leaning over Big Julie from the other side of the bed.

“Just fine,” Big Julie said, glancing warily at Marilyn.

“Back off, girls,” Marilyn said, coming in and dropping her handbag on one of the visitors’ chairs. “You too, honey,” she said to the nurse.

The nurse rolled her eyes and marked Big Julie’s chart.

“Enjoy your visitors,” she said with the barest hint of sarcasm. She went out, closing the door behind her.

Baby picked up Big Julie’s hand and stroked it. She’d show Marilyn.

“Julie, I been so
worried,
” she said. “You gotta let me take care of you.” She kept her eyes riveted to Big Julie’s face. She’d show him how much she cared. And that Marilyn, too.

“Won’t happen,” Marilyn said, sitting down on the chair.

“Big Julie, tell her.” Baby said. “About us.”

Big Julie closed his eyes.

Marilyn laughed. “You mean, how he told you he’d divorce me to marry you?”

Don’t lose it
, Baby thought.
Big Julie wants you
.

“Honey, he won’t do that,” Marilyn said, smiling knowingly. “He’ll never divorce me. He can’t afford to.”

“Money! Is that all you can think about?” Baby asked, her voice rising.

“It isn’t about money. It’s about who he is. You think he’s the boss of Jersey, don’t you? Well, he isn’t. My father is the boss. Big Julie is the second boss.”

Big Julie groaned. “Marilyn—” he began.

“You rest now,” Marilyn said to him. “Let the girls talk. Your tootsie here should know how things stand.”

“I got a name!” Baby said. “Use it!”

“Baby, sugar—” Big Julie said.

“Quaint,” Marilyn said. “So, like I was saying, Baby-Sugar, my husband is the second boss. If he doesn’t screw up, he’ll be boss one day. What do you think his chances of promotion are if he divorces the boss’s daughter?”

“He don’t care about promotion!” Baby said firmly. “He cares about me!”

“He cares about promotion,” Marilyn said. “But even if he didn’t, let’s say he divorces the boss’s daughter, knowing the boss’s secrets. How long do you think it would be before the boss decides Big Julie’s a threat to the organization?”

Baby paled. “Julie! Is that true? You would be in
danger? You?

Big Julie shrugged.

“I know it’s hard to take in,” Marilyn said, almost kindly. “Why don’t you think it over somewhere else?”

“I don’t believe you!” Baby said, her heart sinking. “You’d say anything to make me go away! Well, I’m not leaving.” She sat down on the other visitors’ chair.

“Don’t you worry none,” she said to Big Julie. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Big Julie groaned.

The door opened and a doctor walked in.

“Well, isn’t this nice!” he said, smiling at the group. “Your wife and daughter are here to visit.”

“Oh, shut up,” Marilyn and Baby said together.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 23

 

Hope sat at the poker table, perfectly still. Her new hat and sunglasses covered her eyes and most of her face. She’d been playing for an hour, and already she was in deep. The minimum bet was eight hundred dollars. She had one hundred ten thousand dollars of chips in front of her, but she’d started the game with the hundred thousand, so she was ten thousand ahead. She needed to make twenty thousand more today before she faced Big Julie’s game tonight.

She could do it, if her luck and her nerve held. And good cards wouldn’t hurt, either.

Only one player was still in the game. They were in a faceoff, waiting for the other to fold first. It was noon Saturday. If she were Gary Cooper, it would be high noon, and she would be the lawman facing the gunslinger out in the dusty street, each waiting for the other to shoot first.

Tanner had picked the table, and he’d made a good choice. The other players had lost their chips quickly and dropped out. The last player was a soft guy with a moustache. Moustache Man was good, but not as good as he thought he was. He had about two hundred thousand in chips, but he’d had most of those when Hope joined the game.

Hope felt the familiar hum in her head and the tingle in her fingers as her nerves tightened. She was hyperaware of Moustache Man’s every movement, his every tick and tell. After an hour playing with him, she
knew
this guy. Knew what moves he’d make, how he’d bet, when he’d fold. And if she stayed steady and had a little luck, she could win everything right now.

They both had a good chip stack. They both had depth and could play for a while. But Hope felt the killer instinct. She could take Moustache Man. She was sure of it.

Her hole cards weren’t much, but Hope was in the big blind and Moustache Man called. Hope watched the dealer burn one card, then turn the three cards for the flop. No help there for her: Ace of clubs, four of clubs, ten of hearts.

Hope felt her breath come and go out of her lungs, nice and easy. She kept her face relaxed. She didn’t move a muscle, didn’t move her head, her hands, her feet. To her left she felt the tension scream from Moustache Man. She sensed him twitching without even looking at him.

Moustache Man checked. Hope checked.

The dealer burned a card and turned over the fourth card. The nine of diamonds. Moustache Man leaned in and bet twenty thousand dollars.

So Moustache Man was holding
something
good. What? Two pair? A pair of nines and what else?

Hope thought, letting chips flow through her fingers. She thought about what the uncles and Tanner had talked about all week. She could call, or she could raise. Be aggressive. Play hard. Play to win.

She raised forty thousand dollars.

Moustache Man’s eyes flashed across the table at Hope. He called. So he was prepared to go that far. He thought his cards were good enough to beat whatever she had. Well, time would tell.

The river card was a jack.

Hope watched while Moustache Man jammed his thumbs into his waistband.

Yes
, Hope thought, focusing on Moustache Man.
There it was. The low-confidence tell.

Moustache Man checked.

Yes
.

Hope bet everything she had left, pushing all her chips into the center of the table. She heard a gasp from the spectators. She felt the adrenaline rush, a sweet, hot flood of confidence.

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