The Nymph's Curse: The Collection (53 page)

Kodie was living on a dream. There was no way he could make enough money while they were in Vegas … the man had been on a losing streak. Kodie couldn’t play the game with a straight face when there was a large sum of money at stake. He’d always been too easy to get riled up — it was one of the reasons he’d lost at the World Poker Tournament, and why he’d have to act only as Chance’s corner man at the upcoming Champions of Poker Tournament in Vegas. There were too many emotions for Kodie to stay calm and in the game. There were too many blank stares and silent prayers for the river to flip and rain down the card the player so desperately wanted to see.

“How about this?” Chance paused as he thought for a second. “You let me stay one more night and then if I win in Vegas, we split the pot? You can consider it a commission for being my assistant.”

“Assistant, my ass,” Kodie said, his voice carrying an edge of relief. “I’m the one who taught you how to play the game.”

Chance’s laughter filled the room. “So you’ll take the deal?”

The desk thumped against the wall as Kodie pushed to standing. “If we’re gonna stay here another night, I’m gonna need to get ready for tonight’s game — man’s gotta get his beauty sleep in order to play well. You know what I always say,
if your mind’s a mess so is your game
.”

“I think you’re well past the point of benefiting from a little beauty sleep.”

“Ha, ha, ha — real funny, jackass. You wanna meet up before the game, talk about a little strategy?”

Chance flicked the paper against his other hand. “Nah, I think I’ll have to catch you later. I need to make some phone calls. But hey … if it’s strategy you’re looking for, here it is — don’t lose.” He gave Kodie a wide grin, fully aware he was pushing his friend’s buttons.

“You better hope you’re not going to be playing against me tonight. I’ll take you down.”

“I’m sure you would, but I don’t know if I’m going to get into tonight’s game,” Chance hesitated as he searched for a credible excuse. “I don’t want to use up all my luck — not with the tournament coming up. Want to save up a little bit of it for the big day.”

“That’s good. You can kick Three-Eyed Nate’s ass and split the pot with me. I’ll pay him back and it’ll be handled.” Kodie walked to the door and clicked open the lock.

“You know time’s running out. He’s going to be gunning for you.” Chance hated to think of what Three-Eyed Nate would do to Kodie if his friend didn’t get the money he needed to pay back the loan shark. “What happens if I lose, Kodie? What are you going to do?”

“Come on now, man. You’re the best poker player in the world. You got it in the bag,” Kodie said, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes as he turned and pulled the door open.

Chance cringed.

“And don’t worry, once I pay him back, I won’t be taking calling in any more favors. Not if I can help it.”

“I’d rather you ask for favors instead of Carey.”

“I guess even you can’t have all the luck.” Kodie smirked. “Have fun dealing with her bullshit. If you need me, I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, man.”

The door closed behind Kodie as Chance retrieved his phone out of his rucksack. Before he left for Vegas, he needed to know more about the situation with Carey — and see if she was merely up to her old bag of tricks. He dropped down on to the bed and stared at the numbers to reach Harper. After a moment, he punched the numbers on the paper into his phone. The phone rang.

“Hello?” Harper answered.

He cleared his throat, unsure of exactly what he should say. “Hi. How’s it going? Your chin okay?”

There was a long silence. “Who is this?” she finally answered.

“Sorry,” he said with an awkward laugh. “This is Chance. Chance Landon? We met yesterday. At the casino.”

The pause from the other end of the line made a thin film of sweat rise in his hand.

“Yes, Chance. I know who you are,” she said, her voice growing higher in pitch. “I’m surprised you called.”

He was shocked. Didn’t most men she gave her number to call? Or did she not give out her number very often? He hoped for the latter.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you a little more about Carey. I tried to get a hold of her this evening, but she didn’t answer her phone.”

Harper sucked in a breath. “I’m working on some things right now, why don’t you meet me at my sister’s house?”

He grabbed a pen and wrote down the address she gave him on the hotel’s stationary.

“And hey,” she continued. “You aren’t some serial killer or something, are you? I can trust you, right?”

He snickered. “If I were a serial killer I think it would be a little too late to ask the question — I already have your address.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of confidence you just instilled in me.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m not that kind of man. You have nothing to worry about from me.” He caught himself. “I mean as long as you don’t gamble.”

“Nope. Not a gambler.”

It was too bad. He would have liked for her to take a gamble on him.

Specks of dust splashed up into the thin sunbeam streaming through the curtains of the long neglected spare bedroom. The specks danced in lonely circles as Harper sat the collapsed cardboard moving boxes she carried onto the floor.

The roar of a truck echoed through the still room as it pulled into the driveway. She stood up and peered out of the window, careful to stay behind the drapes so Chance couldn’t see her watching. Hopefully he wasn’t anticipating getting any wealth of knowledge from her about Carey. For all she knew the woman could have been a princess or a fraud — the man had to know more about her than she did.

He looked strikingly handsome in his western style denim jacket, and the fur collar accented his well-loved white cowboy hat. The hat was so low she couldn’t see his eyes or the medium length brown locks that lay underneath.

Chance stopped on the path that led up to the front door and rearranged his jacket as if he was shaking away his nerves. The simple action brought a smile to Harper’s face. Maybe he hadn’t come here only with the intention of learning more about Carey. Maybe it was possible he had come here to learn about Harper as well. It was a silly, immature hope that he would be interested in her, and Harper tried to tamper the thought as she made her way downstairs.

When she was halfway down the creaking steps, there was a knock at the door, but she didn’t speed up.

She stopped behind the door and took in a long breath. He’d only come with questions, nothing more.

There was another rap of his knuckles against the door. “Harper? You home?”

She slid back the lock and opened the front door. “Hi, Chance. Sorry to keep you waiting, I was just upstairs trying to get started on boxing up the house.”

“No problem. You need help?”

“No, but thanks. This’s my sister’s house. I’m just getting things in order to sell. Why don’t you come in?”

There was a moment of awkward silence as he walked in and stood by the door. “Um, thanks.”

Some of her nerves melted away. If he was here to sweep her off her feet, he was making a poor showing. She had been silly to read her own daft hopes into the meaning of his visit.

“So what would you like to know?” She was so uncomfortable around him, her toes curled. “I mean about Carey. I promise I told you everything she told me.”

“I’m sure.” He glanced around the room like he was lost in the small 1950s two-story house. “Where’s your sister? Is she coming back tonight to help you get things ready for the sale?”

The pain of his words was immediate. People had to keep pulling at the stitches she had put on her heart and reopening the painful wound of her sister’s untimely demise. Maybe she needed to wear a sign that read
Yes, my sister is dead.
Maybe people would leave her alone and she could sequester the pain away.

“My sister, Jenna, died a few weeks ago in Montana. I just came down for the services and to get all of her affairs in order before I get back to work.”

His tight, nervous expression went slack. “Oh my God, Harper. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” she lied. “It’s all going to be taken care of soon. Then I can get back to Seattle.”

“Seattle, huh?”

“The Emerald City.”

“I thought that was in
The Wizard of Oz
.”

She couldn’t control the laugh that slipped from her tired body. “Yes, like Oz. There’s no place like home.” She clicked her heels.

He gave a quick nervous laugh as he pulled off his cowboy hat, revealing his disheveled locks. He dropped his arm and curled the brim in his fingertips. Watching him stand there at full nervous attention, she couldn’t help the feeling that she was making him endure some kind of mental torture — even a human man had to feel the emotional weight of this mournful place.

“Hey, why don’t we get out of here?” She offered. “I need a break. I’ve been working all day.”

His fingers relaxed on the brim of his hat. “That would be great. What are you hungry for?”

She was hungry for a lot of things; she was hungry for escape, hungry for a task that would take her mind off Jenna’s death, and more than anything she was hungry to get back home and back to work — but he didn’t need to know anything about how much she hurt. “Is there a nice French restaurant close? I could really use a baguette and maybe a little basil salmon terrine.” Her mouth watered as she thought of her favorite dish. “In Seattle I get it every Tuesday.”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. “Hold on, let me just call the butler and the chauffeur.” Laughing at his ill-witted joke, he stuffed the phone back into his pocket and glanced up at her for validation of his humor.

It wasn’t hard to hold back her smile.

“Come on now, I was just kidding. Can’t you take a week off?” he asked with a slight tone of remorse. “I don’t think we have many choices. I only saw a fast food joint and a buffet place a few miles back. I don’t think they have anything that fancy around here — they’re not quite up to Seattle standards.”

She tried to control the anger as it clambered up from the depths of her soul. If he didn’t like her for who and what she was, than he had no business spending any more time with her. “Look. I may be a little stuck in my ways, but I find comfort in things I can control. If you can’t appreciate that, then why don’t you just ask me what you came here for and be on your way?”

He stepped back at the attack. “I was only kidding. Don’t be upset with me. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Guilt filled her. He had only been playing. He hadn’t meant anything — she’d been too harsh. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Chance.”

She ran her hands over her face and down her hair. “I know you didn’t mean anything. I’m just exhausted.”

He dropped his hat on the table by the door, next to Jenna’s keys. “Here, why don’t you sit down and take a break. Maybe we can go out later?”

Chance grabbed her hand, and his fingers curled around hers as if he had touched her a thousand times before. He led her to the couch and made her sit down. She thought to resist, but her tired body didn’t want to fight his kindness. Moving to the recliner, he grabbed a crocheted blanket and laid it across her lap. “Here. Just take a break. I’ll make us some dinner and we can talk.”

She gave him a weak smile. “I’m afraid there isn’t much in the house.”

“I’m a bachelor.” Chance smiled brightly. “If there’s a bottle of ketchup and some cheese I can make something for us to eat.”

He wasn’t here to antagonize her, only to be a friend — in fact, her only friend.

“Thanks, Chance.”

He dipped his head like he was dipping his cowboy hat in acknowledgment. “We all have tough days. And losing a loved one is about the toughest days of them all.”

Chance turned and walked into the kitchen. The sounds of cupboards opening and shutting and a few muttered obscenities filtered out into the living room.

A little flutter rose up from her belly and her body clenched — the sensation came as a shock. It had been a long time since she had felt anything like this — this desire. She brushed the feelings off. It was only her nymphish desires playing tricks on her.

“Harper?” he called out, but his voice was off, drawing her concern.

“What?”

“I think you should come in here.”

Throwing off the blanket, she got up and strode toward the kitchen. “Is she out of ketchup? I’m telling you maybe it’s better if we go out.” Turning the corner, Chance came into view. In his hand was a box of popcorn shrimp. “Oh, it’s not salmon terrine, but at least shrimp are in the same realm,” she said, passing him a weak smile. “I think she keeps her … I mean I think she
kept
her cookie sheets down — ”

“We won’t need a cookie sheet.” Chance tipped the opened box and a white bag slid out and into his hand. “Do you know what this is?”

The bag was taped shut. “I’m guessing it isn’t shrimp?”

Chance held out his hand so she could more closely inspect the square. “Far from it. From what I know about drugs, which ain’t much, I think it’s heroin.”

Harper sucked in a breath. She knew Jenna had gotten involved with some less than seemly characters of late, but she hadn’t known exactly how far her sister had fallen.

Chance pushed the square back into the blue box. “Did you know?”

“That my sister had a real taste for popcorn shrimp?” She tried in vain to make light of the situation, but from the look on Chance’s face there was no easy way out. “No,” she answered. “I didn’t know. We had a bit of a falling out a few years ago and I hadn’t seen her since. I’ve just been hearing things about her, and up to this point I was hoping that most of them had been distorted by hearsay. I guess people weren’t too far off.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think they were.”

She took the box and lifted out the square. “And you’re wrong, this isn’t heroin. I don’t know what it is, but heroin is normally brown or black if it’s high quality.”

“Oh, really? Do you know about drugs?”

“It happens to be my job. I’m a pharmacologist. I work with drugs for a living. I know how to make them, test them, and sell them to the public. The only thing I don’t do is use them.”