The Big Blind (Nadia Wolf) (5 page)

He tucked me into the car and angled himself into the driver’s seat.

“We don’t have to go,” Caleb said. “We could go out and have fun.”

“I didn’t get all dressed up and have Frankie give me the riot act just to go have fun. Even though I’ve been forced into it, it’s still business. Frankie appointed himself as my manager. Do you know what life is going to be like with Frankie as a manager?”

Caleb shook his head. “No, but I know what it’s like to have Jessica as a manager.”

“It’s going to be a nightmare. Not to mention, I don’t need a manager. It’s ridiculous! This is your fault.”

“Did you let it all out? Are we good now?”

I leaned back in the seat and let out a slow breath. “For now.”

“Good, because I was afraid your head was ready to spin.”

“Just because a woman gets mad doesn’t mean she’s crazy. I have every right to be mad. You didn’t even ask me. I was informed I had to go. Don’t start thinking I’m the crazy one!”

Caleb sighed. He was probably thinking the hired model would have been easier to deal with than me.

“Can I call a truce? I’m sorry for not asking you,” he said. “I haven’t had to ask any one for any thing in a while. Jessica takes care of me and tends to go overboard. I should have told her to stop a long time ago.”

“Fine. Truce.”

The strip was alive with millions of lights and vacationers swarming the walkways. Normally, I don’t drive the strip at night. Mainly because I don’t have a social night life. This was kind of enjoyable sitting back and watching the sights.

“So, what’s the plan tonight?” I asked.

“There’s a charity tournament being held in few months. Tonight is a social mixer of sorts. The media is invited in hopes to raise awareness. We’ll have to take a few photos and there will be a Q and A later. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.”

“Do you have to do this a lot?”

“Some years more than others. This year seems to be particularly busy. It can be a real pain in the ass. When I first turned professional, I could come and go as I pleased. Now I’m on a schedule, and my time is rarely my own. I don’t mind the charity events. Those can be fun because no one cares if you win or lose; it’s just about the cause.”

“What’s the charity this time?”

“Autism.” He paused for a moment. “My cousin is autistic, so this event means a little bit more to me. It’s not just about raising money; it’s about awareness too. That’s why I wanted you here. I don’t feel like dealing with a model that doesn’t care about the event. They always want to make sure they’re in all the shots, and they’re always checking their makeup.”

I’m scum. I’m a heel that stepped in dog poop.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this meant something to you. I wouldn’t have thrown such a fit had I known.”

“Don’t be sorry. I wanted you here because you’re a pain in the ass. I figured if you can keep me on my toes at the table, you might be able to keep me alive during the mixer. I hate schmoozing alone.”

“It’s true. I did win a hand off you today.”

“It won’t happen again.” He glanced down at my leg exposed by the slit. “My head was temporarily out of the game.”

Caleb pulled in front of the Lost City Casino. A valet jogged to the car and opened the door for me. I turned to find myself on a red carpet leading into the casino. I froze. Caleb arrived by my side and rested his hand lightly on the small of my back.

“Why is there a red carpet?” I asked with a squeak.

“The media is here.”

“They don’t normally make such a fuss, do they?”

“It’s a tournament where they pin celebrities against professional poker players. There’s more media here because the event directors have wrangled a few celebrities to make an appearance.” Caleb observed me. “Your face is white. Are you okay?”

Poker face! Think poker face. Calm. Cool. Breathe. I steeled myself and smiled at Caleb. “Let’s play.”

He chuckled and escorted me down the red carpet.

Flashes from the cameras blinded me. I leaned in closer to Caleb smiling my best even though I was becoming disorientated. Questions were being shouted from beyond the lights. I couldn’t hear. Everything blended together in a sea of voices. White spots were beginning to form and ping pong in my eyes. Caleb answered questions as I numbly stood next to him. He finally finished and wrapped his arm around my waist, leading me into a large gathering off the carpet.

“It takes a few times to become used to it,” he explained.

I nodded which made the spots in my eyes bounce up and down.

Jessica burst through the crowd. “It’s about time you arrived. It’s time for your Q and A.”

“We just got here. Can’t it wait a few minutes?” Caleb asked.

“I’ll stall for fifteen minutes but not a minute more.”

“Deal,” Caleb said. “Do you remember Nadia?”

“Uh, are you the new model?” She asked confused. “I thought you were going to bring the girl poker player. I have to say I’m happy you chose to listen and go with the model. We need to keep your image intact.”

I gritted my teeth.

Caleb ran his finger playfully down my back making me jump in surprise. “Nadia is the girl from the table. She’s the poker player.”

Jessica eyes widened giving me a second glance. “Go mingle.”

My eyes followed her as she stalked off.

“She likes you,” Caleb said.

“I’d hate to think what she’d be like if she didn’t like me.”

We weaved through the party. Champagne flutes were pressed into our hands.

“Oh, it’s the guy from that show.” I racked my brain to figure out what show it was. “Is it
Everybody Loves Raymond
? He’s in that other show now, right?”

“Yes, he’s an accomplished poker player. Be careful if you’re tabled with him.”

“What do you mean? I’m not playing in the tournament, you are.”

“You’re playing. I had Jessica sign you up today.”

“But the tournament is by invitation only. You can’t just sign someone up.”

“Jessica made it happen.”

“Have you ever thought you should ask me first?”

“Why? It’s a chance to get televised, and you’ll be great. We need more women in poker. Playing against women is a challenge. Men’s psychology I understand, but women can make my head work overtime.”

I doubt that. From what I’ve seen, he has women already figured out and mastered.

“What if I have plans?”

“Do you?”

“No, but that’s not the point.” I sighed. “I give up. I don’t want to fight.”

“Too bad. I was enjoying it.”

An unintentional smile slipped onto my lips, and I had a difficult time removing it.

“Caleb,” a man called from the crowd. I couldn’t see who it was until the crowd shifted, and then my eyes beheld him.

Greyson Miller eased his way over to us. He was cologne-model handsome in his Armani suite and Italian shoes. His dark hair was perfectly cut to bring out his handsome facial features. He was seductively gorgeous and had a predatory edge in his steel-gray eyes.

A shorter blond man stood behind Greyson. He was dressed professionally in a suit. He was generally a good looking man also, but he couldn’t possibly outshine Greyson. It was difficult to focus on him with Greyson nearby.

A woman stood further back, nearly out of their circle. She was mid-thirties and pretty, but the gobs of makeup plastered on her face made her less attractive. Her hair was bleach blonde with frizzy ends but neatly groomed.

“I’m glad you made it,” Greyson said, shaking Caleb’s hand. “Let me introduce you to Jason Biggs. He’s the Assistant Director of Operations here. And this is my Executive Assistant Steffi Marshall.”

They all shook hands and talked while I watched in the background. I sighed. I was to play the ditsy model, so I guess this was my punishment. I didn’t want to talk to Greyson Miller anyways. He was amazingly successful and drop-to-your-knees-and-kiss-his-feet handsome. Way out of my league . . . and comfort level. Plus, I was here on assignment with Caleb.

Greyson turned to me and caught me off guard. He gave me an appreciative glance that instantly made me forgive Frankie for manhandling me earlier.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” Greyson said.

“This is Nadia Wolf,” Caleb said. “She’s one of the poker players in the tournament.”

Recognition registered in Greyson’s eyes. I weakened under his gaze. There was something in his gray eyes that made me drink in every word he said.

“It’s wonderful to see you again but not with champagne in your hands.”

Caleb blinked in confusion.

“I’m sorry about that.” My palms clammed with sweat threatening to dislodge the champagne flute. “I didn’t mean to spill my drink on you.”

“I know.” He smiled. A tribal drum beat rhythm through my core. “You explained and apologized profusely before, but it’s fun to tease. Actually, it sealed the deal with my new Japanese partner. He thought it was hysterical. He said that any one who keeps calm while they’re dripping with sangria is a real business man. He signed the papers immediately. Granted they were a little wet, but it’s still legal. I actually owe you for aiding me. He was going to be a hard sell.” Greyson eyed me. “What do you want? A new car? Name it; it’s yours.”

“Uh. . .”
Anything I wanted?
The world was offered up to me, and the only thing I could think of was Greyson under the sheets with me. I shook the image out of my head. I couldn’t ask him for that, but I had been pondering reserving a private table for Mya to practice. Many poker players don’t appreciate the novice at the table. They tend to slow down the game and make donkey moves.

“I’m serious. Take me up on my offer,” he urged.

“Normally I wouldn’t want any thing. I don’t like to cash in on my own clumsiness, but I do have a favor.”

“Any thing,” he said.

As my gaze fixed on his eyes, I wanted to believe there was an underlying meaning.

“Can I request a private table with a dealer tomorrow? I’ll need it for an hour.”

“I offer you any present in the world and you choose a table for an hour?”

“Yes.”

Caleb smiled with amusement.

Greyson’s eyes softened. His lips formed a smile driving my hormones into a swirling tornado. I needed to flee far away. With a single look from his eye, I had the impression he could make me do unspeakable things. I bet it would be great.

With one brief glance to Steffi, she nodded and made a note in the tablet she was carrying. Greyson drew a business card from his breast pocket and handed it to me. “Steffi will make arrangements. Give her a call tomorrow when she has the calendar in front of her. Is this for Mya?”

“Yes, how did you know?” Mya did say Greyson knew everything. Surely he couldn’t read my mind.

“Mya helps with my private parties. She talks my ear off nonstop when she’s setting up the room for the guests. She told me you offered to teach her poker. That’s quite nice and ambitious of you. Do you know what you’re getting into?”

“I’m hoping for the best, but I’ll be okay with so-so.”

“Are you still in the tournament?”

“Yeah,” Caleb said, “I can’t seem to knock her out.”

“Why would you want to?” Greyson smiled. “I need to mingle. It was lovely seeing you both.” He took my hand briefly in his. I withdrew immediately. No sense in stoking the bonfire already frying my toes off just being near him.

I didn’t see him again for the rest of the party. Caleb and I were able to finish the night with no drinks spilled. With Greyson out of the way, my spotlight on Caleb grew even brighter.

Caleb parked his Porsche in front of the chapel.

“Are you going to invite me in?” Caleb asked. His mouth turned to a smirk.

“No.”

“I’m disappointed.” He said with a wink.

“You’ll survive.”

“Did you at least have a good time?”

“Yes, it wasn’t as horrible as I thought it’d be.”

“Do I get a kiss?”

“You’ll get a kiss when I beat the pants off you at the table tomorrow. I have to warn you; it’ll be a pity kiss.”

“And what if I beat you?”

“Nothing happens. The odds are you’ll win. You’re the house favorite.”

“Where’s your gambler’s spirit? Are you afraid?”

I eyed him. I’m a sucker for side bets and he was taunting me with one. “What’s the wager?”

“If you place further in the tournament than I do, I’ll give you my winnings from the tournament. If I place further, you’ll spend the weekend with me.”

My stomach dropped to my feet. “What if you’re knocked out before you qualify for a payout?” I can’t believe I just asked him that. I can’t consider a bet like this. What’s the purpose of obtaining more information about a bet I can’t take?

“Has that ever been a problem?”

No, I don’t think he’s ever left a tournament with empty pockets.