Authors: Kay Keppler
Hope nodded, feeling her stomach clench, knowing that she had to play her hand with everything she had, and be lucky, as well. And sitting across from this tired, hung-over, semi-naked Mafioso, she didn’t believe that the odds were on her side.
“The lawyer I talked to said the place is worth two million dollars,” she said. “My family doesn’t have anywhere near that kind of money, Mr. Saladino, but we love that ranch. We’ve always lived there. We’d be heartbroken to leave it.”
Big Julie finished his Bloody Mary with a slurp through the straw and put the empty glass on the end table.
“Yeah, see, I’m not in the charity business,” he said. “Tell Marty I’m sorry about your loss and all, but I won that ranch fair and square.”
“I’m not asking for charity, Mr. Saladino,” she said. “I want to play you for the ranch.”
Big Julie’s eyes opened a little wider. “What?” he asked.
Go for it now.
Hope unbuttoned her jacket and leaned forward, putting her glass on the table in front of her. She watched him while his eyes drifted toward the pink camisole.
Excellent
.
“In next Saturday’s card game,” she said. “I want to play. You win, you take my stake, you keep the ranch. I win, I get the ranch.”
Big Julie stared, but he didn’t budge.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “There’s already eight in the game. Anyways, I got a buyer.”
Hope took off her jacket, turning to lay it on the back of the sofa, letting Big Julie get an eyeful of pretty much everything she had.
“I understand,” she said, crossing her legs and smiling. “Still, turning the property into an entertainment destination will be complicated. The sale isn’t a simple cashout. There’ll be leveraged stakeholders, stock options, maybe bonds to float, perc and land tests, permits, contingencies, covenants, restrictions, valuations, who knows what. You can’t get it done in a week. You can’t get it done in a
month.
Maybe several months. Even years. It’s a lot of work. Maybe more work than the property’s worth to you.”
Big Julie had torn his eyes away from the pink camisole while she’d been talking, but now that she’d wound down, he was staring at her chest again.
Back in the game
.
“I’m just asking you to let me play.” Hope recrossed her legs. Not that she had any evidence that Big Julie was a leg man.
“So what’s this cozy little meeting going on in here?” a strident female voice asked.
Hope looked up to see a gorgeous, pampered, unhappy-looking young woman storm into the room. The young woman stared at her tight pink camisole and exposed thigh with deep suspicion.
Wrong outfit for her,
Hope thought.
I blew it.
“Hello,” Hope said, trying to sound unthreatening. “I’m—”
“Baby, honey,” Big Julie said, placating. “This here is—what did you say your name was again, Sweetheart?”
Hope blinked. “Hope,” she said. “Hope McNaughton.”
“Hope, here, is just asking me if she can play in next Saturday’s game.”
“Oh, is
that
what she’s here for,” Baby said, crossing her arms, glaring at Hope. “I thought it was for something else.”
“Baby, you know I would never—”
“I’m watching you, Big Julie. You are never getting out of my sight until—”
And then, as Hope watched Big Julie gaze at the angry china-doll blonde, Hope saw an Idea enter Big Julie’s head. His eyes went from desperate to smug in a second. And then she knew she was in the game—on Big Julie’s terms, whatever they were.
He looked at Hope with a diabolical smile. “Hope here wants to play in the big leagues. And I was just about to tell her that she’s in if she brings a stake of two hundred to the table and you take her shopping. Today. At
three-thirty
. And not a minute later.”
“What? No,” Hope said, feeling excitement and confusion overtake her. “Shopping? Why?”
“Three-thirty today,” Big Julie said. “Three-thirty
today
, you and Baby here go shopping. And you bring two hundred to the game next Saturday, and you can play.”
Hope felt her heart pound. She was in the game. And all she had to do was spend one afternoon shopping and bring a two hundred dollar stake.
“Me?” Baby said, incredulous. “Take her shopping? No way.”
“Spend what you like,” Big Julie said, uttering the magic words.
“Why do I have to take her shopping?” Baby asked, still suspicious.
“Are you kidding?” Big Julie asked, smug with victory. “She can’t play cards looking like that.”
“
What?
” Hope said, “Of course I—” But Baby looked at Hope, appraising her outfit. Evidently what Big Julie said made sense to her.
“Well, okay, I’ll do it,” she said. “But don’t expect miracles.”
“Hey,” Hope said.
“So if you could just leave Hope and me for a second to settle some details, I’ll be in to settle some details with you, too,” Big Julie said. “Only yours will take longer.”
Baby sniffed, but she tossed her head and left the room. The second she was gone, Big Julie leaned forward.
“My wife is coming at three-thirty today,” he said. “If you want to play next Saturday, you will take Baby shopping today and
every day
until then.”
“What?” Hope said, her head spinning. “I can’t. I have to
work.
”
“Take it or leave it,” Big Julie said. “I don’t care. And don’t forget, you need two hundred, too.”
“Shopping, every day,” Hope said. She hated shopping, and Baby didn’t like her. That should be fun. But at least she could afford the stake—Marty would be surprised. “And two hundred dollars. That at least I can manage.”
“Two hundred dollars—you’re a kidder,” Big Julie said. “I like that.”
Chapter 5
Hope met her uncles at the Golden Palace all-you-can-eat four-ninety-five Chinese dim-sum buffet for a late lunch. They claimed a table and headed for the serving area, where steam tables and iced platters of dumplings, noodle dishes, meat morsels, and steamed seafood beckoned. Marty picked up a plate and contemplated the choices.
“How did the meeting with Big Julie go?” he asked as he piled some barbecued ribs onto his plate. “He must have said you can play. What’s the stake?”
“Two hundred dollars.” Hope looked over the cold shrimp, her mouth watering.
Marty shook his head, putting some of the ribs on Hope’s plate. “Hope, I think you been out of the game too long. Is that what Big Julie said? Bring two hundred?”
Hope nodded, adding some shrimp to her plate. She should have taken a bigger plate. “Yes. So at least I can manage
that
.”
“Honey, what he meant was, not you should bring two
hundred
dollars, but you should bring two hundred
thousand
dollars.”
“
What?
” Hope felt disappointment like a blow, stopping so suddenly that Sharp Eddie ran into her, poking her back with his plate. “I can’t do it then. Marty, I can’t raise that kind of money in a week.” Her credit cards were maxed out, and she couldn’t afford a third loan. She was at her limit everywhere.
“Of course you can,” Marty said, picking up a set of tongs and easing a red bean paste bun onto Hope’s plate.
“That’s why we’re here,” Sharp Eddie agreed, taking a heaping spoonful of steamed crab for himself and putting another on Hope’s plate.
“You have to earn your stake, like everybody else does in these games,” Marty said, moving on to the steamed dumplings. “Do you like these things? I hate cilantro. Tastes like soap. Here, try one. Everybody says they’re delicious.”
“I can’t win two hundred thousand dollars in a week,” Hope said, horrified. “I played for two hours today and I
lost
eight dollars.” She looked at her overflowing plate. “Leave the dumplings. I don’t think I can eat a thing.”
“You gotta eat,” Marty said, putting first the dumpling and then a miniature omelet on Hope’s plate. “Nothing to be scared of. If you can’t win even your stake, then you have no business playing Big Julie for a two million dollar ranch.”
“Practice,” Sharp Eddie agreed. “That’s all it is.”
“You mean gamble for the stake and then gamble for the ranch? I don’t know,” Hope said, feeling sick. Who could take those chances? Not her.
Marty stopped putting food on Hope’s plate and turned to face her. “Hope,” he said. “What happened to you? Cards ain’t gambling.
Slots
is gambling. Slots is you donating your money to the house which has rigged the game for you to lose. Cards is
skill
. You know that. And you got the chops for it—or you used to. You want to win this thing, you gotta be aggressive. Think big. You can do it, or we wouldn’t be here.”
Hope exhaled, pushing her hair back. She looked at him.
“And we’re here because we owe you,” Marty said, still holding the tongs with the shrimp dumpling. “You held our marker. Now you called it in. We can get your game back. But you gotta play it.”
“I held your marker?” Hope asked, confused.
“Don’t get us wrong, Hope,” Marty said. “We’d a come anyways. But it’s up to you. You gotta decide right now what it’s gonna be. Because whether you think you’re gonna win, or you think you’re gonna lose—either way, you’re right.”
Punctually at three-thirty Hope went to Big Julie’s suite to pick Baby up for their shopping trip. Drake opened the door.
“Hi,” she said, eying Drake’s sharp attire. “I’m Hope. I’m here for Baby. Are you the butler?”
“Bodyguard,” Drake said. “I opened the door because you’re no threat.”
“Yes, I am,” Hope said, ruffled. “I’m getting my ranch back. Is Baby ready?”
“How should I know? Do I
look
like a butler?” Drake asked, drifting away.
“Yes,” Hope said, “just not a very good one.” But Drake was gone, leaving Hope standing in the hallway.
Some bodyguard
, she thought, and entered the suite, looking around until she found Baby in a huge bedroom putting things in a trendy leather purse adorned with buckles it didn’t need.
“I don’t know why I have to take you shopping,” she complained when she saw Hope.
“Because Big Julie asked you to, because I need some accessories, and because you know where to shop,” Hope said, eying the purse. Shopping with Baby, even for two hours, looked like an eternity. Who else had to do this just to play cards? She should be downstairs right now, earning her stake. But here she was, about to go shopping.
“Accessories? Just accessories?” Baby glanced at Hope’s suit again, dismissing it.
“Yes,” Hope said firmly. “Bracelets, sunglasses, and a hat.”
“Well, if we have to, we have to,” Baby said, giving herself a last glance in the mirror. “I do know a darling shop for jewelry.”
“It has to be costume jewelry,” Hope said, suddenly alarmed, as they left the suite. She had a vision that Baby might think a “darling shop” was Tiffany’s. “I need something that’s big and clanks.”
“That’s how you buy jewelry? Because it clanks? No wonder you look like that.”
“How do I look? No, don’t tell me.” Hope had to admit that Baby looked terrific. She was like a porcelain doll, carefully made up in vivid colors—bright blonde hair, red lipstick, big blue eyes—and all the outfits Hope had seen her in were tight, short, and brightly colored. But Baby pulled it off. She looked stylish and modern and fresh, and, well, hot.
Not Hope’s look at all.
“You look like you never have fun,” Baby said.
Hope blinked. She thought she looked fairly nice most of the time. She wore suits in neutral colors to work, and she wore jeans and tee-shirts at home. Hope thought she looked well-dressed and practical, but looking at Baby, she had to admit: she wasn’t big on the wow factor. Whereas Baby was all wow, all the time.
“I have fun,” Hope said, trying not to sound defensive.
“You look like you’re going to the office,” Baby said, as they got into the elevator. “On a
Saturday.
Where’s the fun in that?”
True, Hope thought, there were more fun things to do on a Saturday than go to the office, but shopping with Baby wasn’t one of them. The elevator deposited them on the lobby floor, and Baby headed toward a retail atrium.
“Down here,” she commanded, leading the way.
Hope trailed after her, feeling resentful. They stopped in front of a shop. The window was full of sparkling, colorful costume jewelry. Some big, clanking bracelets were among the pieces displayed. Hope perked up. Those bracelets
were
cute. Baby knew her merchandise.
“Here we are,” Baby said.
Hope peered into the glass, looking closer, and then saw the price tag of one item peeking out from underneath a faux jewel. She almost fainted.
“Baby, those things are nice, but I can’t spend this much,” she said.
“Big Julie said to spend what I want,” Baby said, stepping into the shop.