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Authors: Kay Keppler

Betting on Hope (46 page)

BOOK: Betting on Hope
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“We’re
not
square,” she said, but with less energy, her heart thundering in her chest. “I don’t know anything! About you, or what happened, or
anything.

“You’re unsure, I understand that,” Tanner said. “And I upset your world view. But you can count on me. I’ll never let you down. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Ask me anything you want. We have all the time in the world. We can go slow.”

He raised her hand, his fingers still interlaced with hers, and kissed her palm. The gesture, so gentle, so tentative, made Hope’s heart lurch and her breath catch in her throat.

“Well, okay,” she said, “but we don’t have to go
that
slow.”

 

Special Agent Roy Frelly of the FBI was standing near the elevators that led to the suites, doing his job, when Tanner Wingate and that blonde stepped out of the elevator. They looked as happy as pigs at a corn roast. Wingate’s arm was around the blonde’s shoulders, and they were gazing at each other with goofy smiles on their faces as they headed for the exit.

Special Agent Frelly was a little disappointed that in the last week before his well-earned retirement, he’d been unable to command the SWAT troops to bring down the Russian mobsters. Still, they’d made a routine arrest, which should earn him a bonus or at least a citation, and that alone could command very high fees in private security work if he chose to pursue that post-retirement option.

He turned in satisfaction to the new guy he was showing around, another troublemaker, who would replace Wingate as a security advisor when they cut Wingate loose. The new guy was staring after the couple with a look of yearning on his face.

“She’s just as beautiful as her mother was at that age,” Derek McNaughton said.

 

“You each get a phone call,” the FBI clerk said to the five alleged Russian mobsters. The Russians, Jack Sievers, and Baby all gathered in the federal detention center for the Russians’ processing.

“I want to call my wife,” Johnny Red said.

“I want to call my lawyer,” Yakov said.

“I want to call my broker,” Markov said.

“You have a
broker?
” Johnny Red asked.

“I wand do gall by docdor,” Igor said through his broken teeth.

“I want to call Esperanza,” Alexei said.

Four sets of eyes swiveled to look at him.

“The maid.” Alexei blushed. “Remember? The one who helped us with Big Julie. We have a date tonight. I’ll have to cancel.”

“I might be able to get you out of here in time,” Jack said.

 

“Angela—” Jack said. “Can you work late tonight?” He stuffed a sheaf of papers into his briefcase and glanced up at the distracting blonde vision who sat next to him on the plastic chairs in the FBI building. Every time he looked at her, he felt dizzy.

“Call me Baby,” Baby said. “Everybody does.”

“Baby.” Jack tested the name. “How about if I just call you that in private?”

Baby tilted her head at him, speculating. “In private?”

Jack nodded. “Over dinner? To discuss the case.”

Baby smiled fondly at the lawyer next to her. Tanner was right. Jack Sievers did need to have more fun.

“A girl has to eat,” she agreed. “Do we have to discuss the case?”

 

Big Julie asked for a second brandy manhattan from the flight attendant, and when she brought it, he tasted it with deep satisfaction. Everything was gonna turn out all right. The only bad thing was that he’d had to cut Baby loose. He’d miss her, but Marilyn put her foot down, and with her father’s health still good, well—. If Big Julie knew anything, it was when to fold a hand that couldn’t win.

On the upside, the Russians had been arrested, so that was the first thing. He and Marilyn were flying first class back to New Jersey where, Big Julie was confident, his lawyers could straighten everything out. They were already working on it. His people were talking to their people, and of course, he’d have to pay off some people. But the lawyers said that if he just paid the back taxes and the fines—and maybe some rather large
gratuities
—he could stay out of the slammer. So that was the second thing.

But that led to the third thing.

Ten grand here, ten grand there, it added up. Big Julie wasn’t
broke
, but he wanted to stop paying lawyers and cops and snitches and start putting some money in the crawl space in the ceiling again, where it belonged.

“This is gonna tie up our cash for a while,” he told Marilyn, who sat on the window side.

“I know,” Marilyn said. She turned from the window and smiled at him serenely.

“That means we’re gonna hafta tighten the belt,” Big Julie said. “I’m sorry, honey, but—”

“It’s all right,” Marilyn said, patting his knee. “I’ll give up the gym membership. I know other—
better
—ways to exercise.”

 

The next day Hope and Faith threw a lunch party at the ranch. Kenji cooked, with help from Faith, Suzanne, who’d taken the day off from the Bluebell Café, and a one-handed Amber. Hope showed Tanner, Jack, and Baby around the ranch while the others fixed lunch, and by the time the uncles drove up in a shiny rental minivan, everyone was hungry.

They sat outdoors on picnic tables stretched end to end across the shaded patio. Marty focused on smothering his chili with cheese, chopped onions, and sour cream before he turned to Suzanne.

“Now that you own the ranch free and clear,” he asked, “what are you planning to do?”

“Do?” Suzanne asked, puzzled. She spread some butter on her cornbread muffin and took a satisfied bite.

“You could retire,” he said. “For example.”

“Enjoy the fruits of your labors,” Weary Blastell said, helping himself to salad.

“Play a little poker,” Pete Wysniewski said, tasting his beer.

“Go out line dancing,” Isaiah Rush said.

“Bing, bing, bing!” Sharp Eddie said.

“Enjoy the leisured pursuits to which you are entitled and which you have long necessarily denied yourself,” Jim Thickpenny said.

“I couldn’t retire,” she said, shaking her head. “We still need income. I still have expenses.”

“You could make plans,” Jack said.

“What kind of plans?” Suzanne asked.

Jack shrugged. “Big Julie’s buyer wanted to put a destination resort on your property. If they could do it, you could do it. If you wanted to.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“Oh, I don’t see how we could,” Suzanne said.

“It would take capital investment,” Hope said thoughtfully.

“Could we have an organic restaurant?” Faith asked Kenji.

“It would be fun!” Amber said.

“We know some investors,” Marty said.

Hope turned to him doubtfully.


Legitimate
investors,” Marty said, without heat.

“On that note, I have something for Suzanne,” Jack said. He opened his briefcase and took out a large, fat, cream-colored envelope with an embossed return address.

“A copy of the deed,” Jack said. “For your files.”

A letter from a law firm,
Hope thought.
A good one.

“Oh, thank you,” Suzanne said. “Everybody. Really. I never thought—everybody did so much. We can never repay you.”

“You call us when you’re in trouble,” Marty said. “That’s what family is for.”

“You always got our markers,” Sharp Eddie agreed.

Shortly after that, the party broke up. Kenji drove back to work. The uncles left in their minivan to go to the airport, promising to come back to Vegas for next month’s big Hold ’em tournament. Amber, Faith, and Suzanne went inside to research desert resorts with organic restaurants on the Internet.

“I brought you a present from LA,” Tanner said to Hope when everyone had disappeared. “In all the excitement yesterday, I forgot to give it to you.”

“A present?” Hope asked. “What is it?”

Tanner sat down on the porch swing and, reaching for her hand, tugged her down with him. He took a long, narrow box from his pocket and handed it to her.

Hope opened it. A chunky silver charm bracelet lay on a bed of white cotton.

“Oh,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful.” She took it out to look at it more closely.

“It’s personalized,” Tanner said. “For when you play cards.”

Hope dropped her hands in her lap and turned to him, resolution in her eyes.

“I can’t play cards anymore,” she said. “I realized—”

“What?” Tanner asked, confused. “Why not?”

“I was turning into Derek,” Hope said. “And I won’t be like him.”

Tanner stared at her in astonishment.

“How are you like Derek?” he asked. “You’re not like Derek. What do you want to do right this minute?”

“Right now?” Hope asked, her turn to feel confused. “Sit here. Talk to you. Watch the sun go down. Maybe go for a ride. What do you mean?”

“Do you want to go to a casino and play cards?”

“Well, not right now. But—”

“So you’re not addicted to playing cards, like Derek. Do you feel like abandoning your family?”

Hope rolled her eyes. “Well, no, but—”

“Stealing Amber’s share of the cookbook advance?”

Hope looked shocked. “Of course not!”

“Okay. You’re not like Derek, and you won’t turn into Derek if you enjoy playing cards, Hope. You could be professional, if you want to. You’re good enough. You’re better than I am probably, although it kills me to say so. Playing cards well doesn’t turn you into Derek. Lots of card players are honest, upright, fun-loving people.” He pointed his finger to his chest.

Hope laughed. “Well, I’m not sure—”

“I am,” Tanner interrupted. “Trust me. You can have fun in a card room and not be a jerk or an addict. And—
when
you decide to play cards again—the bracelet might help keep you focused on the game.”

Hope looked into his eyes, warm with love and confidence. She felt something in her heart soften and melt. When she looked in his eyes, she felt his confidence reflected back in her. Felt her old fears dissipate.

“I won’t let you down,” Tanner said softly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’d never let you turn into Derek. I mean, eeeew.”

Hope laughed, a deep, full-throated laugh, letting her head drop back on his shoulder.

Tanner put his arm around her and pulled her tight.

“So, look at your bracelet. For when you play cards, or even when we go out on a date.”

Hope turned and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“Thank you for a beautiful bracelet,” she said. Then she held it up to look at it more closely.

“What—that’s a pumpkin!” She fingered the small charm. “Tanner! What if someone figures out—” She looked at him, laughing but pleased and a little embarrassed, too. “But it’s
fantastic.
So much detail.”

“I thought it was you.” Tanner grinned at her.

“Who ever thought I’d be a pumpkin?” Hope asked, as she examined the next charm. “What’s this one? It looks like a potato.”

“It
is
a potato. I couldn’t get a bowl of potato salad. Of course you don’t need fake potato salad, because you have me. This is just a reminder.”

Hope felt herself turn pink, but she shook her head in mock resignation. “You are very bad,” she said.

“What? I make
great
potato salad,” Tanner said.

“It’s not polite to brag about your potato salad,” Hope said primly, but she was laughing again. “And this is a vase. Don’t tell me. A Ming vase.”

Tanner grinned. “They didn’t have a Park Ranger, either,” he said. “Crummy jewelry stores.”

“And this last one is—a pair of handcuffs?” Hope blushed even pinker.

Tanner leaned over and kissed her.

“So that when I’m bad you can punish me,” he said.

“You seem to be bad most of the time,” she said, trying to keep her voice stern, but that was hard when someone had their arms around you and was nibbling your ear in a most distracting way.

Tanner leaned back and stroked her face, his hand so gentle on her cheek that she shivered, his eyes so alive with love and heat and pride that she thought she’d fall into them just to steady herself.

“If anyone can reform me, I bet you can,” he said. “But it’s a big project. What are the odds?”

“Not good.” She shook her head in mock resignation. “It would take a long time. Maybe a lifetime. And we’d have to get started right away.”

“A lifetime,” Tanner said, pretending to think about it. He nodded. “Well, I’ll take that risk. I’ll go all in. If you will.”

Hope smiled. “You bet I will.”

 

 

 

 

BOOK: Betting on Hope
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