Page 51 of Gambler's Conceit
Liar.
Havoc drops the paper towels in the trash and steps into my personal space. “Me too.” He bends down to kiss me, but I accidentally flinch away.
Havoc’s smile gets strained. “Okay. Sorry about that. I should learn better date etiquette. Manners. Whatever. I haven’t been on a real date in years.”
“No, it’s me,” I tell him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a real date, too.”
He scoffs at me.
“Seriously,” I tell him, touching his arm. “I’m learning too.”
What I don’t say is that this is myfirstdate, and I’ve already decided I don’t like them.
I don’t like them at all, and I’m not looking forward to my date with Vortex.
Fuck. If Caleb decides he wants one, too, I’ll be stuck in this hell again and again.
THIRTEEN
CALEB
Nacho keeps attemptingto play with Miss K, who is less amused by the kitten invading her personal space. I would be sympathetic, except I have my own kitten invading my personal space.
“I have work,” I tell Seven, who is lying with his head in my lap.
Seven rolls onto his back so he can stare up at me. “Yeah? Then why are you watching TV?”
“Why am I watching the morning news?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “I was finishing my coffee when you decided to spread out on the couch.”
Seven shrugs and turns back to the TV. “Seems like you weren’t in that much of a hurry, then.”
The news switches to a local crime story. I don’t recognize any of the names involved, so I tune it out.
Seven’s been acting strange since his outing with Havoc two nights ago. I’d asked Havoc what had happened, but Havoc blew me off and said he didn’tkiss and tellabout dates.
I gently scratch the back of Seven’s head. “I wasn’t in a hurry, but if you don’t move, I will be late.”
“So be late,” he says, closing his eyes. “You’re the boss, right? So it doesn’t matter.”
“That would be disrespectful to all the people who work here.” I sigh and turn Seven’s head to look at me. “If you’re bored, I can find something for you to do.”
Something flickers in his gaze, something I can’t quite figure out, but he shrugs. “I can go down and play some slots or something. Maybe try some more blackjack.” That makes his brow furrow. “Not that I’m trying to learn how to game the system or anything.”
“All you’re learning is how to lose a lot of money,” I say mildly. “I don’t think blackjack is your game.”
“Well, I’m not lucky enough for roulette,” he retorts. “In case you haven’t noticed, my luck is kind of shitty.” He glances at the television. “Not as bad as theirs, though, I guess.”
I sigh and take the remote to change the channel. It lands on a home gardening show. “There. Learn how to make a plant survive in my apartment.” I lift his head off my lap and stand.
Our eyes meet again, and Seven tenses.
He’s afraid of something.
I move my hand to his throat and stroke gently. “I’ll take you out for lunch today. Meet me in the lobby at 1.”
“Sure,” he says, not quite looking at me. He goes back to lying down, looking at the TV, but I don’t get the sense that he’s paying attention to it.
I don’t have time to cajole him into answering questions right now, but I will get to the bottom of this later.