Page 88 of Tangled Memories
Stormy chanced a glance at the Foleys. They were silent, unsmiling, and she almost felt sorry for them.No softness now, she commanded herself. This was no time for compassion.
H.B. had certainly afforded her none.
Later,after Liane and Janelle were snug in bed asleep, Stormy and Tyler went up on the pool deck to watch the moonlight play over the ship’s wake.
“Foley didn’t recognize me,” she said with a twinge of anger. “He stole that money, lied under oath, and ruined my life. You’d think he’d at least remember me!”
“He focuses on his own problems, sweetheart. Then and now.”
“I’m scared. Suppose he doesn’t break? Suppose…” Her head was half-turned away from Tyler, exposing her neck.
“Suppose this,” Tyler murmured, oblivious to other couples wandering the dimly lit deck. He placed a kiss behind her ear, then trailed tiny kisses across her temple to her eyelids. He placed a kiss on each lid, then moved to her lips. “Delicious,” he said.
“Shouldn’t we be in the casino?” she whispered breathlessly.
“We should,” he agreed.
She shivered as his strong hands moved slowly up her back. “We can’t just stand here, necking,” Stormy said.
“Who would dare stop us?” He sucked gently on her lower lip.
She loved the feel and shape and taste of his mouth. “We’re going to be miserable, and you know it.” But she moved deeper inside his arms, sliding her hands beneath his jacket, reveling in the rippling sinews beneath his shirt.
His tongue flicked out, probing her mouth. “I’m made for misery,” he breathed against her lips as he begrudgingly pulled away.
Outside of buying an occasional lottery ticket, Stormy knew little about gambling. But the moment she stepped into the ship’s casino, she was swept up in the tumult.
She gripped Tyler’s arm. “I can feel the tension vibrating in the air. It’s amazing. I can see how people get hooked.”
Gambling had its own sounds. There was the whirring of slot machines, the rippling tinkle as simulated coins falling into metal trays signaled a win. The roulette wheel hummed like a stick dragged along a wooden fence as its ball went around and around, seeming to defy gravity. She could hear the snap of cards at Blackjack tables and the click of dice being rolled before landing on green felt. Threaded through it all was the reverberation of hushed voices as players placed bets, whispered to dice, or cajoled slot machines.
They found Foley playing the slots and his wife, Cheryl, at the Blackjack table. She had several stacks of chips in front of her.
“She’s winning,” Tyler said. “Maybe on a roll.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Well, if she stops while she’s ahead, good for her and bad for us. We’ll have to figure another way to put a wedge between her and Foley. On the other hand, if she’s got the disease, she’ll play until she loses and…” He spied the cashier’s cage. “Let’s get you a gambling card. You play those slots near the cage. Watch how often she hits her charge cards for cash advances.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to play a little Blackjack.”
Stormy glanced again at Cheryl Foley. The woman wore a short black skirt, sparkly halter top, dangling earrings, and false eyelashes. “Are you going to flirt with her?”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“But you’re going to talk to her.”
“Only in your interest. Why? You jealous?”
“Don’t be silly.”
He passed her his room card. “Get your playing card. You can keep your winnings.”
“Generous of you.”
Stormy won a hundred dollars before it was time to collect the girls for lunch. She caught Tyler’s eye across the casino and pointed to her watch. He shook his head.