Lucky Streak (5 page)

Amber cringed. When she glanced around the table, she realized she'd spaced out on more than just one hand.

During a break, Marshall stormed over and grabbed her arm. “Get your shit together or this is over. And if I go down, you don't get your hundred and fifty grand to pay your husband back, either,” he ground out under his breath.

“I'll be fine.” She jerked her arm away, her stomach cramping.

“You'd better be or your father won't.” He tossed out that little reminder before rejoining the table.

The game restarted and Amber kept her attention where it was supposed to be. Soon, Marshall was raking in chips. He didn't take every hand or else King Bobby and the rest of the table would know something was up. She didn't overdo her signals to Marshall until the men grew drunker and louder and the stakes rose higher.

Grateful they'd passed the halfway mark and knowing she was due for a performance, she strode to Marshall. “Baby, you're winning!” she cooed. “Don't forget that gorgeous diamond necklace I saw in Aladdin's. Just think how that piece will look around my little neck.” She wrapped her arms around him, letting her cleavage nearly spill from her
slinky dress to display exactly where the necklace belonged. And to distract the other men from their hands.

“It ain't over yet, little lady. King Bobby's just warming up.” The heavy man rubbed his hands together and tipped his hat backward off his ruddy face.

“Come on, King Bobby, give a lady a break.” Amber deliberately pouted at him.

Marshall cleared his throat. “Move over, baby. Let the men play.”

Sulking, she stepped back.

“Hey, you look familiar.” Howard, one of the men at the table, said, staring at Amber. “I recognize you from Beverly Hills.”

For a split second Amber froze. She and Marshall had one hard-and-fast rule. If something seemed off, they cut their losses and ran. The money wasn't worth their lives if they crossed the wrong people. Nothing that extreme had happened. Yet.

Catching herself, Amber gave her best bimbo giggle and said, “Isn't that funny? He thinks I'm from Beverly Hills. I must look like a
star!
” Amber said in her ditziest voice.

Marshall rolled his eyes. “I'm laughing, baby.”

“Because I don't look like a movie star?” she asked, insulted.

He shook his head. “Because you've never been
outside Vegas.” Marshall turned to the dealer. “Are we going to play?”

Howard didn't appear satisfied, but the antes began and he refocused on his cards.

She let out a huge sigh of relief. When she saw a chance for Howard to win, Amber let Marshall's opportunity pass in order to keep Howard's mind on his cards and not where he'd met her once before. She didn't need her real world colliding with her fake one. Not tonight, when the stakes determined both hers and Marshall's future.

Over the next half hour, Marshall's pot grew larger, King Bobby grew nastier, and Howard kept passing her covert glances that made her uneasy.

A quick tally in her head told her Marshall had won what he needed and she was halfway to paying back Mike. They were almost there.

“Bobby, honey, were you able to get us into the Country Club for dinner?” Emmy Lou asked. The exclusive restaurant in the Wynn hotel was world famous.

“Damn, woman, can't you see I'm busy? Call the concierge and find out if she made us a reservation if you want to. But let King Bobby be.” He tossed her his cell phone.

“That's it!” Howard rose from his seat.

“Don't tell me this yahoo won again,” King Bobby muttered. “It's enough that guy's messing with the King's mojo tonight.” He gestured to Marshall.

A skittering of dread rushed through Amber and the hair on her arms stood on end.

“No, I just remembered where I saw her before.” Howard pointed to Amber. “I may not remember the name, but I never forget a face. You were the concierge at some hotel in Beverly Hills.”

Amber breathed in deep and forced a silly giggle. “Me, a concierge?” She turned to Marshall. “Baby, he thinks I'm smart enough to be a concierge.”

“Lord, a man can't concentrate tonight what with these women gaggling like geese and this guy worried about where he met some two-bit whore before,” Chuck, another man from somewhere in the Midwest, said angrily.

“He's got a point. I fold,” Marshall said, tossing down his cards.

Amber didn't need to count again to know they didn't have all the money they needed. At least, not enough for her to return to Mike with a semiclean conscience, an explanation and a plea for forgiveness.

“That's it for me.” Marshall rose.

“But honey, the necklace—”

“Maybe another time.” He gathered his chips, cashed in, ignoring her tapping foot behind him and King Bobby's loud complaints that Marshall wasn't giving him a chance to win his cash back.

Once he was finished, Marshall grabbed her arm hard enough to leave a bruise and guided her out the door while saying his goodbyes all at the same time.

It wasn't easy, but Amber held in her angry explosion until they were safely in the car and out of earshot of anyone from the game.

“How the hell could you walk before we won what we needed?” she yelled at him.

He started the car. “In case that genius brain of yours missed it, I won what I needed.” He dug into her large purse, pulled out the wad of big bills he'd stuffed in there and counted out the bundles. “Here.” He slapped seventy-five thousand dollars onto her lap.

“That isn't enough.”

“Too bad. You were fingered and we had an agreement. Cut and run at the first sign of trouble.”

Amber was so furious she could barely think straight. “That idiot Howard wouldn't know what to do with the information anyway. It didn't matter. There was no danger. You just wanted to play chicken with
my cut!
”

He turned toward her. “Chicken?” He shook his head. “I'm just being damn smart.
I'm
out of hot water. But what are you going to do? Go back to your husband with half his money and explain why you ran out on him?” He laughed at her predicament. “Or are you going to hide out here in Vegas? I don't much care. But I wasn't about to make your life any easier. Not after you screwed me by walking out of mine. And after all I've done for you.” He shook his head and put the car in Drive.

She clamped her mouth shut tight. He'd left her twisting in the wind on purpose. Giving her the option to return to Mike with half the money or run away from him for good, assuming he didn't track her down and press charges. The man was a cop, after all.

She squeezed her temples with her hands. Neither option held much appeal.

 

A
MBER KNOCKED
on Mike's hotel-room door, her stomach churning with cold fear. Facing him again wouldn't be easy, but even if he turned her away, she owed him an explanation. That and another seventy-five thousand dollars, she thought, wondering how in the hell she'd raise that kind of money while paying for her father's care.

Maybe Mike took MasterCard.

Or maybe he'd understand and let her pay him back over time. She seemed like a different woman than the one who was spinning fantasies of a new life with Mike just this very morning.

Five minutes later, someone from housekeeping arrived with a cart to clean the room, and informed her the guest had checked out. Amber returned to the elevator, disappointed but not completely defeated.

She had his full name and knew he was a cop who lived in Boston. She stepped through the lobby, engrossed in devising a plan to find him, when she caught sight of a ten-gallon hat and the big man wearing it.

King Bobby Boyd stood at the concierge desk talking to Amber's friend Caroline. Beside him stood Emmy Lou. Their game had been in a room in another hotel. None of the high-stakes players knew where anyone else was staying. For all she knew, King Bobby could be staying at the Bellagio, too. It suited his larger-than-life taste. He hadn't been pleased at the outcome of the night and Amber didn't want to have a conversation with him now, not with seventy-five thousand dollars hanging from the large handbag on her shoulder.

Not wanting to be seen, Amber ducked behind a pole, and when a large group of people passed by, she strode out among them, hoping to get lost in the crowd.

“Amber, honey!”

Amber recognized Emmy Lou's distinctive Texas drawl and her stomach rolled in a panic. Gut instinct told her to run, so she did, ducking past all the people in the cab line, slipping a twenty into the valet's hand and grabbing the first open taxi, ahead of the line of people waiting.

“Just drive,” she told the man, not sure where she wanted to go yet. Her heart pounding, she needed to calm down and think.

First she had to find out why King Bobby had been at the hotel. Had he been asking about her? She pulled out her cell phone and searched her contacts for the direct line to Caroline at the concierge desk
in the Bellagio. Although it had been a while since she'd had to utilize them, Amber had friends like Caroline all around the country, especially in L.A. and here in her hometown. In her former job, she had to be connected to anyone who could find anything at all hours of the day or night. She'd prided herself on the ability to hunt down the most obscure item any guest desired. If she couldn't find it, she had a network of other concierges who might. All she'd had to do was send out an SOS and she'd have hundreds of people helping her out. The person who found the item was owed a favor. Amber had thrived on those challenges.

She missed her old job and her old life. A life she'd worked hard for, one she'd been proud of instead of the one she lived now.

Caroline answered quickly. “Caroline du Zutter, Bellagio concierge, how may I assist you?”

“Caroline, it's Amber Rose. I know its been a while but—”

“Your ears must have been ringing! I've had the most interesting day involving you.”

Amber leaned forward in the cab. “Keep driving,” she said to the taxi driver. “I'll let you know where to go soon. Sorry, go on,” she said to Caroline.

“Two people came by looking for you today. The first was a gorgeous hunk of a man who asked if you were registered at the hotel.”

“Mike,” Amber said aloud.

“Detective Michael Corwin of the Boston P.D. to be exact.”

Amber swallowed hard, memories of the man still strong in her mind. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. He didn't ask me. He asked Nikki, who was just finishing her shift from last night. She's new. She said she didn't know you. He left his card and said if she heard anything to contact him. Then she asked me when I came on duty. I played dumb.”

“I owe you, Caroline.”

“Hey, until I spoke to you and knew what he wanted, I wasn't giving you away. But I have to tell you, Nikki pointed him out as he was leaving. That is one gorgeous guy. Any chance you want to share information on him?”

Amber forced a laugh. “Not yet. Who else was asking about me?”

“A big loud Texan. He was booking dinner reservations when his wife started calling your name. I turned and didn't see you, but she was upset you didn't stick around. That's when the Texan asked her what she expected, considering he'd been fleeced. I didn't know what he meant and I don't much care. The man's so full of hot air, you can't believe anything that comes out of his mouth, little lady,” Caroline said in a poor imitation of King Bobby.

This time Amber laughed for real. “Good call. A friend of mine pissed him off. Nothing to worry
about.” She crossed her fingers to cover her lie. “So nobody gave anything away, that's a relief.”

“Well…” Caroline's voice rose in pitch. “The man started ranting about how he was
connected,
that if he didn't get answers, he'd call in favors and we'd all be in trouble. I didn't believe him. He blows too much smoke.”

Amber's stomach cramped because King Bobby
did
strike her as dangerous. If he had any kind of underworld connections, she'd be in big trouble if he blamed her for his losses last night. “Then what happened?” Amber asked.

“Remember Danny Heath?” Caroline said the man's name with disdain.

“The bellboy from hell.” Amber recalled him too well from the old days, when Danny had worked at the Crown Cladler.

“One and the same,” Caroline said. “He heard the Texan talking and insinuated he knew something about you. Before I could blink, the big guy slipped Danny a fifty and Danny told him you used to be a concierge in Beverly Hills. I sent him off on an errand before he could give anything more away.”

“You're a lifesaver. You have my cell number, right? Can you keep me posted if anyone else comes looking for me?”

“ASAP,” the other woman promised.