The Gamble Read online

  “What day is it?” she asked with a small frown.

  I gave her a soft smile. “Friday.”

  “Okay.” She nodded and began to eat. I sat down across from her and pulled my own breakfast toward me.

  “What do you think? Is my bacon getting better?”

  “Not crispy enough,” Mom complained. I laughed. My bacon was never crispy enough for her taste.

  “I’ll work on it,” I promised.

  She stabbed at her eggs and slowly morphed into her old self. “So, tell me. What’s going on? Anything new? Or anything old that I’ve forgotten?”

  I tried to smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. My mother liked to joke about her condition, but I never found it funny.

  “My art show is on Tuesday. I’m nervous, but I think it’ll go well.”

  “Tuesday,” she repeated with a nod. “And what day is today?”

  “Friday,” I said patiently.

  “Oh!” She shook her head. “Soon then.”

  “Very soon.”

  “Are you ready?”

  I blew out a breath. “I think so. I’ve been preparing for weeks now.”

  “It’ll be wonderful,” she assured me. She reached across the table and patted my hand. I smiled at her and continued eating my breakfast. “Will Perry make it to the show?”

  I swallowed my food slowly, taking my time before I looked up at her. Perry was my boyfriend of the past five years, and my mother always found a way to slip him into our conversations.

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “He’s out of town right now. I’m not sure when he’ll be back this time.”

  “Out of town?” Mom frowned the way she did when she forgot something.

  “For business, remember?” I said slowly. Perry had been traveling regularly over the past three years. He was almost always out of town, but my mother often forgot that.

  “Right.” She nodded slowly. “Right. So, he won’t make it then?”

  I stabbed another bite of egg. “I hope so. We’ll see.”

  She slid her folk around her plate, and I could tell she was thinking something. I took a deep breath and braced myself for what I knew she would say. “Dani Bug, I know I’m sick.”

  My chest tightened. That wasn’t at all what I thought she would say. Whenever Perry was brought up in conversation, she would harp on me about marriage and children.

  “You’ll be okay, Mom,” I promised her.

  “No.” She shook her head and put her fork down. Her eyes locked on mine. “I’m serious. I know I’m sick. I know I’m only going to get worse, and honey, I’d really like to see you settle down.”

  And there it was.

  “Mom…” I warned.

  She held up her hand. “No. Let me finish, please. I would really like to see you get married and have children while I’m still around. While I can still remember it. I don’t want to look at my grandchildren and never know who they are. Even if I forget one day, I want to know them. At least, for a little while.”

  My eyes filled with tears as she spoke. I couldn’t believe her newest tactic, but my heart melted all the same. Her guilt trips about settling down were normally less emotional and more logical. Bringing up her dementia was harsh. I felt like she’d punched me in the stomach. All the air was knocked out of my chest, and I had to calm myself down before I could speak again.

  “I know,” I finally said. “I know, Mom.”

  There was so much more I wanted to say, but I couldn’t form the words. I watched Mom finish her breakfast. After cleaning up the kitchen, I started a load of laundry while she got dressed. She called me into her room to help choose an outfit because she couldn’t remember if she was supposed to leave the house that day. These were the little things I helped her with. Cooking. Cleaning. Laundry. Getting dressed. Remembering the days of the week.

  It was tedious, but I was happy to do it. My mother had taken care of me for forever. Now it was my turn. More than anything, I wanted to make her wish of seeing me marry come true, but I knew that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. Despite being together for five years, Perry and I had never once discussed marriage. I thought about bringing it up a million times, but I never did.

  Part of me wanted to see what else was out there, but I couldn’t end a five-year relationship over nothing more than curiosity. I felt like I owed Perry more than that. Which was a perfectly stupid reason for staying with someone. Gah. It was confusing and overwhelming and just easier to keep everything the same.

  When it was time for me to leave, Mom pulled me in for a hug and kissed my temple. I breathed in her scent, wanting to remember every detail about her.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Honey, what day is today?” she asked again.

  The backs of my eyes burned. “Friday.” She nodded and turned her attention to the television.

  I let myself out of the house, locking the door firmly behind me. As I walked to my car, I pulled out my cell phone and went to Perry’s contact. All my mother’s talk about settling down made me…not quite miss him, but maybe think about him more than usual. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to hear his voice.

  “Hey!” I said when he picked up. “How’s work going?”

  “It’s insane,” Perry groaned. “I can’t even begin to tell you what I’ve been dealing with.”

  I closed my eyes, wishing he’d ask me about my day. When the silence stretched, I caved. “I’m sorry. I can’t wait to hear all about it when you get back.”

  “You won’t be interested,” Perry said, and I could almost hear him roll his eyes. “It’s not your thing.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Perry’s business had never been particularly intriguing to me, but I did try to maintain a certain level of interest for the sake of our relationship. I wasn’t always successful.

  “Still,” I said brightly. “I want to hear everything. I miss you so much.”

  “Uh huh. Listen, Dani, I have to go.”

  “Already?” I could hear the complaint in my voice. “We haven’t talked in days.”

  “Sorry, but I have a few more meetings today.”

  My sigh was loud and long. “Okay. I understand.”

  “You always do,” he said, and his voice was lighter this time. “It’s why you’re so great.”

  “Yep, that’s me. Understanding to the bitter end.” Then I remembered. “Will you be back in time for my art show? It’s on Tuesday, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. Right,” Perry said, and I knew he’d forgotten. “Of course, I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Really?” I couldn’t keep the hope from my voice. Perry had made this promise, to be with me when I needed him, more times than I could count, and he often didn’t deliver. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he didn’t arrive back in town until Thursday or Friday of next week without so much as an apology call.

  “Yes,” Perry promised. “Gotta go.”

  “Okay. Talk to you later. I—”

  The call dropped before I could finish my sentence. I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it for a second. Perry was busy. His business was important to him, and I never wanted to stand in the way of that, but I hated how much time it took up. He was almost always out of town, and when he wasn’t, he was on the phone or the computer nonstop. Our alone time had become increasingly shorter as the years went by.

  It was hard to maintain our relationship, but I was comfortable with Perry. Our life together was easy and drama free. When we spent time together, we never argued, and we usually had fun. After five years, I was at ease with him. Still, as I tucked my phone into my purse and climbed in the car, I found myself wishing for something more.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Talen

  The rest of the weekend flew by in a haze of drunken debauchery. Despite my desire to return home on Thursday night, Brandon coerced me into staying out later. We then went out again after work
on Friday night. And on Saturday. And Sunday. As much as I liked to believe I was slowly starting to rise above this immature lifestyle, it didn’t take much for Brandon to drag me back in.

  It wasn’t entirely my best friend’s fault, though. Once I had enough drinks in me, I didn’t need any encouragement. After a few glasses of bourbon and a couple shots of tequila, I was usually good to go for the night.

  When I woke up on Monday morning, I had a pounding headache and no memory of the previous night. I knew that Brandon and I had hit up a few casinos in Vegas, but the rest was a blur. My temples felt they were being pierced by screwdrivers as I slowly sat up in bed. I didn’t want to move, but I knew the longer I stayed still, the worse my nausea would become.

  I pushed myself back against my headboard and rested my head against the cushions. With my eyes closed, I tried to piece together the events of my night. I vaguely remembered walking from the New York, New York to the Bellagio, but everything after that was gone. I swallowed hard and tasted old tequila at the back of my throat. Nothing could make me blackout quite like tequila. No matter how many times I swore I would never drink it again, I somehow always found myself indulging in the burning liquid one more time.

  After the waves of nausea began to subside, I opened my eyes and looked around the room. All the sheets were pulled off my bed and thrown haphazardly on the floor. I followed their path until my eyes fell on a naked body wrapped in my comforter. She was lying completely still, her brown hair cascading over her naked back. I squinted, trying to see if she was breathing, but I didn’t see any movement. With a groan, I pushed myself out of bed just enough to nudge her with my foot. At first, she didn’t move, but after a few more nudges, she finally moaned and rolled over.

  When she flopped onto her back, her bare breasts were exposed. I stared at her in appreciation for a few seconds. Her body was sexy, and I knew without knowing that we had a great time together. Still, when her eyes opened and locked on mine, I immediately wanted her to leave. The last thing I needed that morning was a conversation with a stranger. She sat up on her elbows, not bothering to cover herself, and grinned at me. I didn’t smile back.

  “Time to go,” I said. “I have shit to do.”

  “What?” she asked, blinking in surprise.

  “Out,” I said simply. “Go.”

  She pushed her hair back from her face, her brows drawing together with temper. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Nope.”

  Without another word, I got to my feet and retreated into the bathroom. I could hear her muttering curse words under her breath while she stomped around the room. As the front door slammed shut, I reached over to turn on the shower. The water was warm, but not quite hot when I climbed in. I would have preferred a scalding shower, but I knew the lukewarm water was better for my queasy stomach.

  The woman was long gone when I finished my shower. I wrapped a towel around my waist and wandered aimlessly into the living room. I was on my way to get a cup of coffee when a bright green piece of paper caught my eye. It was sitting on the table in my entryway, and I knew who it was from before I picked it up.

  T-

  Be at the office first thing.

  -Dad

  My dad always kept our communication short and to the point. He wasn’t one to leave lengthy messages or go into unnecessary detail. The bright green paper was his favorite because he knew I couldn’t miss it. If he stuck with plain white, I could easily pretend I hadn’t seen it. This way, he ensured I did his bidding.

  With an irritated exhale, I grabbed coffee and then dressed. I brushed my fingers through my hair and slipped on my shoes. I was out the door in less than ten minutes and was in the office ten minutes after that. Being hungover was bad enough. Having to face my father only made it worse. I could already feel my headache worsening as I stepped into the Gaston Pharmaceutical office building.

  A cool rush of air conditioning hit me like a slap in the face. I shivered and made my way across the lobby toward the elevators. My father’s office was located on the twelfth, and highest, floor. When he had the building designed, he specifically requested twelve floors. No more and no less. He believed it was his lucky number and would bring his business all sorts of success. Just the thought made me roll my eyes as I pressed the top floor button and waited for the doors to close.

  On the ride up, I wondered what my father wanted to discuss. He never called me into the office unless it was something important.

  I stepped off the elevator and immediately came face-to-face with a few of my father’s top executives. I plastered a smile on my mouth.

  “Henry,” I said with an enthusiasm I didn’t feel. “Trevor. Richard.”

  “Talen,” Henry said with a smile. He extended his hand, and I shook it firmly. “Meeting with Jacob this morning?”

  I gave him a salute I immediately regretted. “Always.”

  “I keep telling him to just turn over the reins already,” Richard said with a chuckle. “From father to son sounds perfect to me, but what are you gonna do?”

  “In time, I’m sure he’ll do just that,” Henry assured me. He patted my shoulder and continued down the hallway. I nodded to the other men before turning to face the dragon.

  Henry, Trevor, and Richard had worked for my father for years. They’d all known me since I was a kid, and somehow, they still loved me. Despite my father’s insistence that I was a continuous disappointment, his executives seemed to believe the opposite. They all trusted me implicitly. In their eyes, I could do no wrong.

  I knocked on my father’s door and waited for a response. His muffled voice called out to me, and I pushed open the door. When I stepped inside, I immediately searched his face, trying to take his emotional temperature. He was sitting behind his mahogany desk with his hands folded in front of him. His eyes narrowed when he saw me, and he gestured toward an empty chair in front of him. I walked over, scanning the office as I moved.

  My father’s office was the biggest room in the building. It took up half of the twelfth floor and was lined with bookshelves. He believed having books around would increase his IQ. It was ridiculous, but I never questioned it. There was only one small window in the office, a tiny one right behind his desk. The window only existed for lighting purposes. My father almost never looked out of it.

  He leaned forward, his eyes beaming like a laser into mine. “We need to talk.”

  “Yes, I surmised as much.” I tried to keep my sarcasm in check, but it was hard. My father just brought out the smartass in me. I fixed my eyes on him, noticing for the hundredth time how similar we looked and wishing we didn’t.

  “The investors have called an emergency meeting. They’ll be coming next month,” he continued, acting as if I hadn’t spoken. “All of them.”

  “All of them?” I was caught off guard. There were at least fifty different investors in Gaston Pharmaceuticals, and they’d never been in the same place at the same time.

  “Yes, and you will be here to meet with them.”

  “Of course,” I nodded, still trying to figure out what was going on.

  “You need to make a few changes first.”

  Shit. Here we go.

  “Changes?”

  My father stood up and walked around the desk. He leaned against it so that he was directly in front of me, nothing between us. He looked good. Strong. It was hard to believe this same man had a heart attack just last month.

  “I need our investors to see you as a mature, responsible adult, not the idiot party boy you actually are.”

  His words stung, but I wasn’t surprised. No matter how hard I worked during the week, he only focused on my actions during the weekend.

  “I work twelve-hour days most days, and I’m training to become a Big Brother,” I reminded him.

  “It’s not enough. The investors are worried.”

  “Why? Our numbers are stable. The patent for the new—”

  “They’re worried that you can’t keep your dick
in your pants. They’re worried that my plans for you to be my successor are, let’s say, ignorant. They worry that my next heart attack will kill me and this entire company will swirl down the drain of your incompetence.”

  I stared at him, unable to believe the words I was hearing. Words that stabbed me to the bone. “I am not incompetent. Under my direction, the—”

  “It doesn’t matter!” he roared. “Have I taught you nothing? Appearances mean everything, Talen. The way you dress. Behave. Carry yourself. It all matters. And when your name is tossed around on gossip rags and webloids as a rich playboy, all anyone can see is that label.”

  My head was pounding, my stomach churning, but not from the hangover any longer. I couldn’t believe this. No, that wasn’t true. I could believe it. Dad had been harping on me since college to settle down and present a “good face” for the company.

  I blew out a breath. “What do you want me to do?”

  His eyes narrowed, the lines on his forehead growing deeper, more menacing. “I want you to find a wife. Before the investor meeting.”

  “A wife?” As hungover as I was, it took more than a few seconds for it to register. “Wait, what? I—”

  “This isn’t up for discussion, Talen,” he barked, his fist coming down on the desk as he towered over me. I jumped to my feet, hating when he used that line of intimidation.

  “No.”

  “Yes. If you don’t find someone before the start of the month, then I’ll do it for you. You will be married before you step foot in front of the investors. We need Gaston Pharmaceuticals to be respectable and upstanding. The last thing we need is for more of your exploits to hit the tabloids.”

  “Oh, come on,” I groaned. “Those magazines will print anything. No one takes them seriously.”

  “The investors do.”

  “Then they’re idiots,” I scoffed. “Who reads that shit? Dad, come on. This is ridiculous.”