Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5) (36 page)

The fourth week, I debated buying a dog for company. Except the landlady told me it was against the rental agreement I had signed. So I sobbed about that, along with everything else, while watching television or lying in bed or vacuuming the carpet. I wanted Sin.

The fifth week, the landlady dropped by with a very fake, concerned expression on her face and handed me a business card…then kindly reminded me I had neighbors beside, above, and below me. I tore up the card for the counselor and stuffed my head down on the pillow to cry, muffling the sound. I
needed
Sin.

During the sixth week, I came to the realization I wasn’t just depressed. I was becoming suicidal. Before I started debating Russian roulette too seriously, I pulled myself from the drudgery of my self-pity, tucked away the one person who meant everything to me but was wrecking my sanity from missing him so much, and sucked it up. My life sure as hell wasn’t getting any better.

But it was still a damn life.

The only plus during my single-handed downslide was that I had come to the decision that the One and I
were
attracted to each other. But nothing could ever develop from our attraction because the One lived at the Temple and was faithful to the Temple, while I lived in this world and was faithful to this world. Both of us lived completely separate lives. Our attraction was mostly
just
attraction.

I didn’t want him. I knew that now.

Because of the lifestyle I had decided, living with the consequences of existing outside the Temple, I now resided in 1993.

I entered the first seedy bar I could find and started making friends.

While I listened. And learned.

Finally, I was ready to return to my roots.

Chapter Thirty-One

My plans moved slower than I’d expected, and my cash funds were dwindling, so I obtained a job at the apparel store I had purchased my clothes from. Every criminal needed a respectable daytime job—though a touch of my power was needed to get it. I didn’t have the tax documents required in this day and age.

It took two weeks of searching until I finally heard the names coveted by a few loners, the rich and the powerful names of the gaming underworld in this area. After buying more respectable outfits with my staff discount—a couple of pairs of black trousers I actually liked and a few cleavage-revealing, yet respectable, silk tops—I frequented different bars, the more reputable kind, making different friends. After that, it still took me a damn month, having been there for close to three months by that point, before I was invited to an illegal poker game with the wealthy and influential of New York City, not too far from Choep.

My nice, loyal car made the trip safely. I now stood inside the back room of a swanky dance club, weird music—
oldies—
rocking behind the closed door. I gave my name to the Vampire bouncer with a clipboard in his hand. I waited patiently, confident about my invite as I brushed wrinkles out of my new trousers. I also straightened the red silk top I wore, its color the same as my hair—very flattering. The bouncer flipped his sheet, eyed the page, then slashed a mark on it with his pen. He nodded to the Shifter in a tux behind him.

“If you’ll come this way, ma’am.” The Shifter gestured politely for me to follow.

My gaze covertly flew across the room, taking in the scene except for anything beyond the Shifter’s broad shoulders blocking my view straight ahead. I stopped when he did, his attention scanning for an empty seat. The posh, intimately lit card room was full of both quiet and boisterous individuals. The gaming area was smoky, making it hard to see clearly to the other side, but I made do, peering past the waitresses dressed like prostitutes—because they were—and taking into account the smallest details of the place. I walked when he did, weaving our way through the tables. I hid my grin as many of the Mystical men—there were no Coms here—went quiet as I passed. This generation had a different attitude to women playing cards, which was one of the reasons it had taken me so long to earn the invite. But being damn near the only female cardplayer in the place would work in my favor.

I hoped to earn the owner’s notice and eventually his favor.

My goal here was not to win loads of cash, even though I definitely could. My goal was to earn the respect of the owner…before I unloaded
all
of his establishments of cash.

I had done it before. I sure as hell could do it in 1993.

The Shifter held out a chair for me, earning my gaze instantly. My smile was sweet as I nodded my thanks. I sat and pushed my chair up before peering to the other occupants of the eight-heavy table. I was damned proud I kept a completely neutral expression at what I was faced with. All of them were males, half staring at what cleavage I could muster with my smaller chest size, while the other half were calmly evaluating me.

None of that shocked me.

What did seize my thoughts was whom I saw.

Because, the half evaluating me…I knew them.

They were younger versions of themselves, in their early twenties.

I swallowed coolly, maybe a bit too largely, but I showed not one iota of recognition as I turned my attention away from Elder Nelson, Elder Kincaid, Elder Venclaire, and Elder Fergus.

Wait. No.

They were possibly the current Kings. Or even the Prodigies. The dates of their reign were not formulating in my mind. I was multi-tasking, wondering if I should leave now, or if I was supposed to be here as Elder Farrar had indicated, while also listening to the dealer tell me it was a twenty-five-dollar minimum bet with a maximum of five hundred. My contact had already told me this. I passed over two thousand dollars in cash from my small handheld purse with a steady hand and promptly received my chips.

I was going to stay. For the past month and a half I had worked toward this goal. It wasn’t as if I had to speak with
them
while I tried to catch the eye of the Mage owner, whom I recognized as I’d been given a decent description of him after my contact was drunk one night.

Keeping my eyes firmly off the ‘Elders’ as my first hand was dealt, I motioned to a waitress. I couldn’t help but stare at her breasts when she practically threw them in my face as she bent to ask quietly what I would like to drink. My lips curved in amusement when I saw condoms stuffed down her cleavage. I cleared my throat to keep from laughing, possibly from nerves with who was at my table. I glanced to her blue eyes, her neon yellow hair framing her pretty face in a cute bob. I lifted my brows slightly, asking, “What do you suggest?”

I was flirting in a casual way, trying to get as many connections as I could here. Befriending the staff was always a plus, my most recent predicament with the Manor staff a perfect example of why it paid to be nice.

She whispered, “An hour alone with me instead of all these fucking men.”

I chuckled quietly, throwing in my ante and keeping an eye on the table’s play before peering up into her eyes. I held her gaze a long moment to show her that she was appreciated, then I clarified in a casual tone, “I just sat down, but I would love a vodka straight up.”

Bingo. She smiled, a real one. “I’ll have that right out for you, Ms…?”

My lips curved. “Farrow. Sadie Farrow.”

She winked as she straightened. “I’m happy you’re here, Ms Farrow.”

“Thank you.” I tilted my head slightly. “And your name is?”

She paused for the barest moment then stated quickly, “Sarah.”

I smiled gently, because that was certainly her real name. “It’s nice to meet you, Sarah.” I let my gaze linger on her ass as she walked away because I knew she would…oh yes. She glanced back over her shoulder, nibbling at her lip nervously to see if I was checking her out. Her eyes gleamed as she hurried to look away. Even prostitutes want to be wanted.

With one connection made, I glanced at the room at large. I, along with the Mage next to me, lost the hand to Elder—whatever he was—Nelson. I scoped out the rest of the female staff. There were five others.

An hour later, one hundred dollars up and after three drinks consisting of vodka, water, then vodka, a pack of cigarettes, a coaster, and—oops—a lighter for my cigarettes, I had officially met all of the waitresses. Every single one of them had given me their real names too, their attention obvious. So much so, they were starting to hover. One was constantly walking by our table every few minutes.

The Mage next to me folded.

I raised before sipping at my vodka.

The Mage leaned back on his seat, turning his head in my direction and stating in a relaxed tone, “Ms Farrow, correct?”

My lips twitched as I sat my drink down and peered at him. Those were his first words of the evening, earning the covert gazes of everyone at the table. “Yes.” My head tilted toward him. “Mr Stellar, I presume?”

Golden eyes roamed my face sensibly, not flinching at the fact I had known he was the owner all along. “You would be correct.”

I hummed quietly, comfortable in this environment. I tapped my fingers on the table and returned his regard. “Now that I’m positive you’ve scoped out the new name on your list using your best capability, am I trustworthy for your establishment?”

His head cocked, and he stated bluntly, “You have no background, Ms Farrow.”

My lips curved. “I’ve often found backgrounds to be tiresome.”

Easy words. “Where are you from?”

“I’ve lived all over the world. Most recently, I’ve found residency in Choep, New York, which I’m sure you already know.”

“You’ve had experience in gambling.”

It wasn’t a question, but I shrugged. “I grew up around it. A real asshole foster parent I had ran gambling hells like yours.”

“What made you choose my establishment in which to amuse yourself?”

“I live close to here. Plus, yours was the most coveted name I heard.”

“Thus you prefer the glamorous games…”

My smile wasn’t fake. “Not always. I prefer to go where the biggest spenders are.”

“Ms Farrow, the woman brought up in illegal gambling halls, has lived around the world and enjoys the largest bankrolls,” he sipped from his drink, “you know the way things work around here.” He gestured at the table. “Tell me who’s who at this table, because anyone with true skill knows what’s been happening here for the past hour.”

My brows lifted. “You want me to explain your business practices in front of your clients?”

He nodded once. “It’ll be good for them.” He paused, then he tilted his head at Elder Fergus. “Except for the quiet one. He seems to know the score already in the few times he’s been here.”

I chuckled quietly, having seen that myself—and much more—but I asked seriously, “Are you sure about this?”

He sipped his drink. “I always am.”

“Don’t blame me if this backfires.” I nodded to Elder Nelson first. “You’re letting him win big tonight so he’ll come back next time, since he seemed put out at the beginning.” A nod to Elder Venclaire. “You’ve been filling his glasses higher with whiskey than Coca-Cola, getting him nice and drunk. He’s betting more freely with the alcohol.” A nod to Elder Kincaid. “Every time he glances at his watch, your people back off, letting him win the hand so he’ll stay longer.” A nod in Elder Fergus’s direction. “You’re leaving him the hell alone—right now—since he’s not drinking tonight and he’s playing his cards correctly. You’ll make a run for him later when he’s more relaxed.”

A glance to the fire Elemental next to him. “He’s a filler, one of your staff. He judges the way the plays should be made.” I paused. “He really needs to work on his hand signals to you guys. They’re too obvious.” I nodded to him. “You’re here scoping me out, where normally another filler would sit.” A head tilt to the Shifter on the other side of me. “He’s also a filler and helping the plays by your lead man, the fire Elemental, happen correctly.” My lips curved. “And he sniffed me every time I spoke to make sure I told the truth.”

I had to hand it to the Elders, every single one of them handled that very well. Not because they heard they were getting played, but because I listed clearly what they already knew. Every single one of them was playing the player. The owner of the establishment was getting swindled right under his own nose by the younger motley crew, but of course I wasn’t about to mention that.

“Damn,” Elder Venclaire mumbled and lifted his drink. He stared at it cross-eyed, acting the tipsy client. “I thought they tasted stronger.”

With that same self-assured tone I knew in 2035, Elder Fergus drawled, “And yet, you kept ordering them.”

Mr Stellar glanced from me to them. Back to me. “Do you know who they are?”

A simple answer, as I was unable to lie. “Yes.”

“I thought so,” he hummed, flicking a finger at my face. “Although, you hid it well.” He tilted his head at them again. “So…who are they?”

I eyed his features, then I realized what he was asking. “They’re powerful men whom you aren’t afraid to show that you’ve been cheating them.”

“And what do you suppose we do with less influential customers, who enter our establishment with poor intentions?”

My brows bounced. “What any decent owner such as yourself would do.” A shrug. “You’d hurt them when they weren’t looking.”

An unbidden chuckle erupted deep in his throat, his eyes crinkling. “I wasn’t expecting that much honesty, Ms Farrow.” He rubbed at his chest while he continued laughing, his gaze running over my lips. “My question was supposed to frighten you, as it does most people.”

My lips curved. “I’m not most people, Mr Stellar.” I wasn’t sure how many times I was going to say that in my lifetime. It should be obvious after a minute with me.

He shook his head, wiping at his eyes. “Christ, that foster parent you spoke of must have been a true bastard.”

“Pretty much the worst you could ever imagine.” I played with one of my chips on the table, but I kept eye contact with the man. “I really don’t wish to talk about him any further.”

He inhaled heavily, catching his breath. He rubbed at his chest, eyeing me in a professional, and if I wasn’t mistaken, sexually interested way as he lifted his drink once more. Lowering the glass, he rolled a finger, meaning the game could continue from its small hiatus. He leaned closer, placing an arm on the edge of the table, and tilted his head to give us privacy from the rest of the table. “Are you only interested in women, Ms Farrow?”