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Authors: Kristin Hardy

Certified Male (12 page)

BOOK: Certified Male
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Two cards still remained in the hand, though, and anything could happen. The dealer flipped over the turn card to reveal another jack. It gave Del three of a kind, but the kid's three kings still outranked Del's hand.

It all came down to the river card.

The dealer laid the card facedown on the green baize. He paused a moment, with innate theatricality. Gwen wanted to scream with the tension. The kid scrubbed his hands through his hair. Del sat, as relaxed as though he were back in his room watching television.

The dealer put his hand on the river card and flipped it over.

And the ace of spades lay on the baize.

Gwen whooped and clapped before she even realized she was doing it. Del had taken the hand with a full house. He'd nearly doubled his chip count in a single hand.

Victory.

He looked up and winked at her.

“Looks like your boy knows how to play Hold 'em,” Roxy observed.

“That he does,” Gwen said, “that he does.”

12

P
LOTTING TO PLY
J
ERRY WITH
drinks and get him drunk enough to tell her something was a good idea in theory but not nearly so entertaining in practice. So far she'd been regaled with a replay of every hand of his round, though the details had been glossed over somewhat in Jerry's favor. He dragged out the description of his final winning hand that bumped him to the next round until she wanted to scream.

“An' then the flop gives me my other ace. I know these other two guys at the table and they're acting like they've got something good but the guy on the end is blinking too much and the guy next to me is beginning to sweat. I figure they're bluffing, so I go all in. Balls to the walls, you know? I figure I'll either win big or I head on up to 5111 and call it a night.”

A little leap of excitement went through her. At least she had his room number now. It was a start, anyway. “What would you have done if you hadn't gotten the full house on the flop?” she asked him. “You just coughed up ten thousand to enter the tournament. That's a lot of money.”

He snorted. “Chump change. I could go out tomorrow and come back with fifteen, twenty grand, easy.”

“Really,” she said, with a pretty good idea of just how.

“Oh, I'm set, all right. This time next week I'm gonna
be rollin' in dough. Yo bartender!” He thumped the bar. “'Nother round here. My ladyfren's fallen behin'.”

The bartender gave him a glance. “I think you might have had enough, friend.”

Jerry straightened up. “I think I know when I've had enough,” he said, clearly taking pains to speak distinctly.

The bartender gave a long look at Jerry and a longer one at Gwen. “Buddy, everybody's got a job.”

“An' yours is to pour drinks.”

“It's also to take care of you. That includes not letting you get drunk and rolled by some pretty lady.” He paused. “No offense,” he added with a look at Gwen.

“None taken, I'm sure,” she said coolly.

“I wanna drink,” Jerry said obstinately.

“You go out of here and hurt yourself or somebody else, the law says it's my responsibility,” the bartender told him. “You look like you've got a pretty good buzz as it is. Why don't you ride it?”

Jerry fumbled in his pocket and slapped his card key down on the bar. “I'm staying at the hotel, pal, so I ain't gonna get in any car. Now bring me a drink.”

The bartender flicked a look at the security camera at the end of the bar, then back at Jerry impassively.

Jerry gave him back a stubborn stare. “Dammit, everybody thinks they know what's good for me.” He stood unsteadily and leaned toward Gwen. “Gotta go…you know. Be right back, okay. Make him give us a drink.” And he weaved off to the bathrooms.

Gwen sat at the bar, staring at the blue-and-gold plastic wafer of Jerry's passkey out of the corner of her eye. It practically vibrated, sitting there out in plain sight. And yet there was no way to just pick it up, not with the bartender watching her.

“Your friend's had a little too much tonight. I'd hate to
see something bad happen to him.” The bartender leaned his hands on the inside of the bar and stood staring down at the key.

Gwen swallowed and pulled her shoulder bag up into her lap. “I know.” She pulled out her lipstick and a small mirror and proceeded to outline her mouth.

“The safety of our patrons is our first concern.” He lifted her glass and replaced the bar napkin underneath it.

Gwen finished and gave him a brilliant smile, capping her tube of lip color and sliding it back into her purse. And stealthily removing her own passkey.

“You enjoying yourself at the casino?” the bartender persisted.

“Very much.” She slung her bag back over the chair back, keeping the key in her other hand and safely out of sight.
Go away,
she telegraphed to the bartender, but he was obviously in no hurry to leave and just as obviously hanging around to keep an eye on Jerry's key.

The seconds slid by and she sipped her martini. The bathrooms might have been out in the lobby, but it wouldn't take forever for Jerry to get there and back. Fighting the urge to lick her lips, Gwen palmed her passkey and rested the elbow of the other arm on the bar. And prayed. On the television monitors overhead, Paul LoDuca hit a homer over the wall in Dodger Stadium.

“Yo, service,” called a guy sitting with some friends down the bar.

“Just a minute.” The bartender looked at the passkey and then at Gwen, who blinked at him innocently. She casually folded her arms on the bar, resting the hand with her card key closest to Jerry's.

“Hey, buddy, can we get a coupla beers down here already?” The guy slapped the polished surface of the bar.

With obvious reluctance the bartender stepped a few
feet away to the taps and began drawing the beers. Any minute, she thought, any minute she'd get her chance. She took a quick glance at the security camera, which was panning away from her. Her pulse thudded in her temples.

The bartender gave Gwen a long stare before he turned to walk down the bar and deliver them.

As soon as his back was turned, she used her fingertips to slip her room key over Jerry's and slide his into her hand.

Score!
Heart pounding, eye on the bartender, she dropped her hands back into her lap and put the key into her purse.

“Hey, babe.”

Her vertical leap would have qualified her for the Olympic high jump.

“Edgy, huh?” Jerry made a clumsy attempt at pinching her butt, but she shifted out of his way.

Gwen gave a faltering laugh. “You were quick.”

“Not quick at everythin'.” He leered at her.

Gwen took a big swallow of her martini.

The bartender reappeared. “You get your key all right, sir?”

“Right here.” Jerry held it up and squinted at him. “Do I get another drink?”

“Not here, sir. Perhaps up in your room.”

“Depends if I get company,” he said archly.

Gwen shook her head. “You might have made it to round two, I'm still waiting for my heat. I've got to finish this and call it a night.” She tipped up the last of her martini and rose. “Congratulations on moving up.” She gave him a light thump on the shoulder and walked out.

 

S
HE WALKED INTO THE ELEVATOR
, a bubble of excitement swelling in her solar plexus. By the time she hit Del's floor, it was practically floating her off her feet. She hurried down the hall.

Del opened the door almost before she'd finished knocking and swept her inside. “'Bout time. I've been going nuts here. Are you all right? Did he touch you? What happened?”

“He was a little too hammered to paw anyone, let alone Nina.” Because it felt too good not to, Gwen stepped closer and pressed a quick kiss on him. “You might ask me if I found out anything,” she mentioned, twirling into the room.

Del's mouth was still ajar from the shock of the kiss. His gaze flicked over her from head to toe. “Did you find out anything?”

“I did, funny you should ask. Now ask me what I came away with.”

“What did you come away with?”

She held up the passkey. “Ta da!”

“Your key?”

“Oh, no. This is not my key. This would be Jerry's key.” She did a little dance step and turned in a circle.

Del whistled admiringly. “Nice. How'd you manage that?”

“Oh, alertness, timing and manual dexterity.”

“If you tell me you picked his pocket, I'm going to be a little scared.”

“Not that much manual dexterity. He put it down on the counter and went to the men's. I managed to swap it for mine under the eagle eye of the bartender, who seemed to think I was a woman of questionable virtue looking to take advantage of Jerry's condition.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, you have to admit you did take advantage of Jerry's condition.”

“But my virtue is hardly questionable.”

“I can vouch for that. So, what do you plan to do with the key?”

“Wait for the right time and search his room, of course.” She sat on the high bed and bounced a few times. “He's
got no address that I can find. I figure he's got to have the stamps with him.”

“What if he's got them locked up in the safe?”

She grinned, eyes merry. “Oh, no. I just happened to mention what a challenging time I was having with my safe, and he told me he never uses them since the time he locked his wallet up in one and forgot the combination.”

“Well, isn't that convenient,” he said admiringly.

“Isn't it just,” Gwen agreed.

“So, when do you think the right time's going to crop up?”

She considered. “That part's going to be a bit tricky. Any ideas?”

“Yes, but it would mean sacrifice on my part.”

“Sacrifice?”

“Vast sacrifice.”

She leaned back on one elbow. “Do tell.”

“Well, as you know, I had an interview with Jerry today for my series of articles. You know, to get the gritty reality of life in a poker tournament.”

“I'm sure that was a fascinating experience.”

“Oh, it was, it was. We shot some pool, drank some beer, talked about tournaments, making the big score, you name it.”

“How's his pool playing?”

“He'd better not plan on making his score that way. To hear him tell it, though, he's already got two feet on easy street. Winning the tournament will just cement it.”

“Did he tell you any more about his big score?”

“Just that smart guys figure out how to get ahead.”

She snorted. “I'm sure.”

Del stuck his tongue in his cheek. “Also that if he didn't get laid soon, he was going to find a pro.”

“‘Gritty reality,' I think you said?”

“He invited me to come out with him tomorrow night
after the tournament play ends to visit a gentlemen's club and enjoy some fine exotic dancing.”

“Is that how he put it?”

“No, I believe he said he wanted to go hit a titty bar and get a load of some pussy.”

“That's our Jerry, charming to the last.”

His eyes glimmered with humor. “I told you it was a guy-bonding experience.”

“And did you take him up on his invitation?”

“I told him that to my everlasting regret I'd have to say no.”

“I see. Not a big fan of gentlemen's clubs, are you?”

“I prefer private sessions with amateurs, thanks. But I'm willing to sacrifice for the cause.” He leaned against the armoire opposite the bed. “It occurs to me that if I go to the gentlemen's club with Jerry, I'll be in a perfect position to keep tabs on his whereabouts and call when he heads home to warn anyone who might be taking part in a little breaking and entering.”

“It's not breaking and entering if you've got a key,” she informed him smugly.

“Tell that to the hotel security.”

“Or not.”

“Anyway, I'll look him up before the tournament starts tomorrow afternoon and take him up on his offer.”

“Assuming your group reaches the magic number by a decent hour.”

“We're already down below one-fifty. I think we'll do it by nine or ten.”

“Leaving plenty of time for the gentlemen's club.”

“Do I know how to have a good time?” He crossed over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Anyway, I'll keep an eye on him, you do your search and I'll call you when we head home. Piece of cake.”

“Very nice.”

“We do make a good team.” He kicked his shoes off. “So, if you swapped your key for his, I guess you can't get back into your room. What are you going to do?”

“Well, I figure Jerry's going to blunder downstairs, bitching about his key not working. They'll think it got demagnetized and recode it. It happened to me one time on a trip. They don't reset the door code unless you actually lose a key. It would probably look a little funny if I go down there tonight saying the same thing.”

“Agreed.”

“So I figured I'd wait until tomorrow morning and tell them I locked my keys in my room. I show ID, they give me new keys, no one is the wiser.”

He stretched out facing her. “Of course, that does leave you with one problem.” His eyes had become very dark.

“Which is?”

“Finding a place to sleep tonight.” He ran a thumb along the line of her collarbone.

It shouldn't have made her pulse jump. After all, they'd already had sex. They'd slept together just holding each other the night before. There shouldn't have been any mystery to it. But when he leaned closer, her lungs took a breath of their own accord.

“Do you have any ideas about that?” It took her two tries to get the words out.

“Depends.” He stroked his hand over her cheek and up into her hair.

“On what?”

“Whether you care about sleep.” And his mouth was on hers.

BOOK: Certified Male
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