Page 12 of Gambler's Conceit
“What, the cat’s talking to you now?” I ask, hanging back as Seven starts to look around the room.
“Where’s my bag?” Seven asks, ignoring my question.
I shrug. “No idea. Wherever Caleb left it, I guess. You’ll have to ask him.”
“If you help me find it, there’s cash in it for you,” Seven tells me.
I stop and stare at him hard, trying to figure out if he’s actually trying to bribe me—if he actually thinks he can outbid whatever Caleb Spade could offer me. “Uh, no. I have money, thanks.”
Seven sidles up to me, getting into my personal space. He licks his lips suggestively. “I can give you other things, too.”
Now I frown. “You’d blow me just so I help you find your bag?”
“Well, that would be part of the deal,” he says. Nacho climbs up his arm, making Seven wince, then settles onto his shoulderlike a parrot. With his other hand, he touches my arm. “All I need you to do is look the other way while I… you know. I’ll just be a memory, and everything will be fine.”
“Even if I wanted to just let you walk out of here—and I don’t,” I add when he starts to open his mouth, “you’d have to do more than get past me. He has other men out there, remember? No one’s letting you out of this penthouse without Mr. Spade’s express permission.”
Seven pouts at me, which would probably be more alluring if he didn’t have a kitten meowing on his shoulder. “I already paid him back for the ride. I’m not the type to stick around.”
“You’ll get used to it,” I say, shrugging. “Boss says he wants you here. I like my job.”
“Come on,” Seven whines. “If you don’t want a blowjob, just help me out because you’re a good guy. Or because you don’t want a second cat around. Either way, I’m complicating things, and you don’t need complications in your job, right?”
A good guy? That ship sailed years ago, and these days I’d settle for being a not-so-terrible guy.
“I’d have bigger complications if I let you and the runt there run off,” I say gruffly. “You have to know what kind of man you’re dealing with.”
“The kind of man who doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” Seven says, and I grimace at the bitterness in his voice. “Yeah. I know the type. But I thought maybe someone around him would have a conscience.”
A conscience.
That’s laughable.
“Save it for them, then,” I suggest. “Sorry, kid.” And I am. I don’t like the idea of trapping someone against their will, especially when I know Caleb Spade isn’t a good guy either.
But Caleb is better than someone like Don Alfonso, at least, and predators can smell prey. They would know in a heartbeatthat Seven is vulnerable, and they’d do far, far worse than Caleb would.
“Might as well settle in,” I tell him, stepping out of his reach. “Enjoy your quiet time.”
He probably won’t get much of it.
“Thanks,” Seven mutters, “for absolutely nothing.”
I shrug and head to the bedroom door. “You’re welcome.”
FOUR
CALEB
I lockthe penthouse door and remind the guards that Seven isn’t to leave the premises. They’re clearly curious about Seven, but they’ve learned to follow orders without question.
Vortex shakes his head as we walk to the elevator. “I thought it wasn’t going to take that long?” he says, a smile curving onto his lips.
“The call didn’t last that long,” I retort. “It’s the rest of it that’s going to be time consuming.”
“Okay,” he says, accepting that in the same easy way he accepts everything else. In some ways, I prefer dealing with him over dealing with my own second-in-command. He’s discreet, he does what he’s told, and he doesn’t have the same temper flares that Grant is prone to.
We head down to the casino, where everybody is quick to jump to attention because the boss is in the vicinity. I hope they aren’t slacking when I’m not around, but as long as they get the job done without complaints from the guests, I don’t care.