Bet in the Dark Page 4

Defenses efficiently lowered, Becket went in for the attack, “So, is this about Fin? Do you like him? Because as your brother, I feel like it’s my familial duty to inform you that he is not good enough for you. He’s a whore, a borderline alcoholic and a-“

  “Scoundrel?” I butted in. “A dirty, rotten scoundrel?” I asked innocently.

  “You’re such a smart ass,” Becket laughed.

  “For real, Becks, there is nothing going on between Fin Hunter and me,” I reassured him. “If there was a problem with anybody this morning, it was Colton. Not Fin Hunter.”

  Beckett narrowed his eyes on me and thought over my words. “Colton still bothering you, E?”

  “Oh my word, let it go!” I growled.

  “Hey Beckett,” a leggy blonde called from up the sidewalk a ways. She was wearing a denim mini skirt, a low cut ultra-tight t-shirt and Uggs. I didn’t even know how to begin to start judging her. Honestly, there were too many options.

  “Hey, you,” Beckett called back with his best I’m-a-lady’s-man-smile.

  “Oh lord, you don’t even know her name,” I mumbled on a laugh.

  “Shut it,” he growled at me.

  The blonde was interrupted by a friend of hers, another blonde, in not a denim mini skirt, but in fact, denim shorty shorts and an equally tight Packers t-shirt. Also in Uggs. She gave Becket a wave, a huge smile and then giggled. Then she turned to the first blonde at which point there were more…. giggles.

  “Fan club?” I teased.

  “Hopefully,” Beckett sighed and then pointed a stern finger at me. “No getting pregnant.”

  And with those words of wisdom, Beckett was off. At least I escaped the third degree about Fin Hunter. And hopefully Beckett was distracted enough that he would forget Colton too. I did not need that guilt trip piled on top of everything else.

  And I would feel guilty if they beat Colton up.

  Again.

  As much as I wanted to embrace this whole liberated woman thing, a brutal beating was not something my conscience would let me overlook. Unfortunately.

  I blew out a puff of air and looked around the sprawling campus. Beckett was now surrounded by a group of blondes and headed in the direction of the gym, probably so his little fan club could watch him work out. So stupid.

  Beckett, like all of my brothers, and unlike me, came to the UW-LA on sports scholarship. Lennox, the pioneer of the family, made it here for tennis. Which so fit Lennox’s stuck up personality. Obviously not every tennis player was stuck up, probably not very many were. But Lennox was. And now he could get away with it at his country club, bragging about his college glory days during doubles matches and cocktails.

  Grayson was next, never one to let Lennox one up him. He chose the wrestling path though, since he was by far, my biggest and scariest brother. Where Lennox fits the whole suit and tie, champagne and caviar persona, Grayson was more brute strength and possibly/potentially a super hero kind of guy. Although, don’t ever underestimate his intelligence. The guy made everything in life a competition with Lennox and he would be damned before he let Lennox win. Since Lennox was now on the fast track to CEO of his dream job at an international marketing consulting firm, Grayson’s soon to be MBA was strongly attached to plans including cure cancer, walk on the moon and last but not least world domination.

  Finally Beckett, the wild child and resident black sheep of the family, still managed to follow the well-worn path of the Harris boys and get here via baseball scholarship. My parents were happy he made it to college at all, he was happy college contained so many co-eds and college was happy because he had already given them three, soon to be four, winning seasons.

  My parents were only slightly disappointed when I didn’t follow in their footsteps. Originally I rebelled completely by choosing an entirely different university, which I think was their biggest concern. We were all in agreement my athletic career could safely die in high school. However, nobody was happy I chose to be so far from family. A whole two and a half hours away.

  So even though everyone hated Colton and hated that I stayed with him for as long as I did, they all jumped on the support-band-wagon, the minute Colton started to push me to join him at La Crosse. Now that I think about it, their support was maybe also because my brothers suspected him of cheating on me and they wanted me to catch him. But at the time, I just felt wanted, I felt like Colton was really trying at our relationship.

  Now here I was. Overprotected. Dumped. Broke. And in debt.

  Speaking of….

  “You’re late,” I called out in way of greeting. Fin Hunter separated himself from his own version of a long-legged entourage and smiled up at me.

  “See you later, Lacey,” he waved over his shoulder at the brunette in leggings and a low cut tunic top.

  “Bye, Fin,” she called back with a confused look on her face.

  I didn’t blame her. I would be confused too if I looked like her and was suddenly dismissed for something like me. It was very disconcerting to be the object of Fin Hunter’s energy and focus, expected for a girl like her, a bit traumatizing for a girl like me.

  He sauntered over to me, with a lazy stride and casual arms gripping at a backpack he wasn’t wearing earlier. The late evening sun was low in the sky, but still shining bright enough so that it wasn’t close to dark. Fin Hunter looked perfect in this lighting and I found myself annoyed at the realization. His smile was crooked and easy and his eyes had that same laughing quality that irritated me so much yesterday.

  It still annoyed me today.

  This was going to be a long night.

  “The boss is never late.” He stopped directly in front of me, looking down at me from those dark brown eyes. “You work for me, remember?”

  “Work for you?” I gaped. “Work for you? What?”

  “Our agreement,” he explained just as casually as he was standing there, all relaxed ease, no hurry, no concern, just complete comfort. “You’re going to work for me until you come up with my money. I need a secretary. You want to help. Plus, you owe me all that money. Plus, I’ll deduct your hours from the total of the amount you owe as we go. Isn’t that generous of me?”

  My mouth fell open. Fell open, as in just dropped wide and shocked without my permission. Three sEconds in and I was left completely speechless. He laughed at me lightly and then used his upturned hand to gently close my mouth. His fingers brushed the underside of my jaw and his thumb rubbed against my chin, one time, two times, three times.

  “Come on,” he smiled down at me, his eyes filling with that amusement again.

  Finally I found words, “Come on where?”

  “My apartment.”

  “But you said to meet you at the library?” I reminded him in confusion. I should have probably said a hundred different things, including “I’m getting a lawyer so this whole personal assistant/secretary thing isn’t really working out for me.” But instead I just looked at him.

  “Obviously, we cannot run an illegal underground poker game from the middle of campus,” he sighed like I was silly for even thinking that and turned to walk away.

  “Illegal?” I whispered and then repeated on a croak That was a fact I was really hoping was part of the urban legend side of him. “Illegal?”

  “Come on, Ellie,” he called in a singsong voice.

  And like an idiot, I followed him. So much for that whole liberated woman thing.

  ----

  Fin Hunter’s apartment was on the opposite side of campus than mine, but similar in a lot of ways. His building housed mostly college students, just like mine. It was seven stories, just like mine. He lived on the sixth floor, although I live on the third, but the staircase was very similar. Although Fin’s was like an upgraded version of my building, it was obvious his rent was more, the tenants were of a higher, probably quieter standard and the super probably fixed things the same day they were broken. However, the only substantial difference between our living places was he lived alone in his one bedroom spa
ce while I lived with a roommate in my two bedroom.

  Wait. Scratch that. We both live alone.

  I wasn’t surprised at all by the layout, or location of his living space, but I was very surprised by how clean and well decorated it was. The kitchen had nice, brand new appliances, and not just the ones that came stock with the lease, he had a really nice toaster and toaster oven. And there wasn’t a George Forman grill in sight, which in my limited experience with college-aged boys, seemed to be a fixture.

  Likewise, his living room was spacious with a desk facing out and toward the TV in the back of the room, a comfortable looking sectional, an even more comfortable lazy boy and a huge TV that was already playing ESPN on mute when we walked through the door. His living room windows were long and large and overlooked campus while letting in lots of natural lighting.

  I was even more disappointed to realize not only was his apartment nicer than mine, but I liked it better than mine.

  Plus, it was possible he had better taste than me.

  I stood awkwardly looking out the window so afraid of how the rest of this night was going to go. I had to get this back under control, under my control. I was determined to fix, no to solve this problem all by myself, but Fin Hunter was so not going to make this easy for me.

  “Fin Hunter, we need to talk,” I turned around and mentally readied myself to face him.

  He looked up at me from his desk where he had brought two glasses of water and an extra chair. His hair was a bit mussed at the end of the day, his scruff shading his jawline and spotlighting those stupidly perfect lips and he had removed the hoodie he was wearing early, leaving his ridiculously toned arms exposed for my viewing pleasure.

  Ok, Ellie. Focus.

  “Come, have a seat,” Fin motioned to the chair pulled up next to his desk chair. His desktop was booting up, and he pulled out a laptop next to it.

  I hesitated, not even wanting to get behind the desk. It felt like once I sat down I was resigning myself to this indentured servitude he seemed to think I already agreed to. No, I needed to stand my ground and offer what I came here to offer: a firmly worded letter writing campaign.

  “I’m Ok,” I replied with a confident tone. “I-“

  “It’s just a chair, Ellie,” Fin interrupted, giving me a commanding yet gentle look of his own. “You can talk to me about whatever you want from over here. Right now I feel like I’m about to be scolded. I promise you I will be much more receptive to whatever you have to say if you sit down and talk to me like we’re friends.”

  My mouth started to fall open again, but I caught myself and purposefully locked my jaw. I thought over his words for a minute and decided that I hated he was right. But still, he was right. I didn’t want to scold him, and more importantly I wanted to get my way. I tried not to sigh impatiently, but I knew something slipped out when I watched his mouth twitch like he was trying not to smile again.

  I reluctantly sat down in the comfortable kitchen table chair he brought over for me and then turned to face him. I was closer than I thought, way too close to think straight, so I pushed my chair back and opened my mouth to lay it out for him.

  “I like this shirt you’re wearing,” he said before I could get anything out.

  So confused, I responded with, “Uh, thank you.”

  “Yellow’s a good color on you,” he continued, leaning in so that the space I just created between us suddenly disappeared.

  “Thank you,” I repeated while leaning back to gain that distance again.

  Fin Hunter hit me with his huge grin and looked up from under his lashes straight into my eyes, like straight into mine, all the way in, as far in as he could get. “Am I making you uncomfortable, Ellie?”

  “Um….” Solid reply, I know. “No.”

  “You seem uncomfortable,” he reiterated, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “Stop it,” I suddenly snapped.

  “Stop what?” His brow furrowed and his smile disappeared.

  “You’re making me uncomfortable by asking me if I’m uncomfortable, so stop it!”

  His brow un-creased and he looked away from me, but I was pretty sure it was so he wouldn’t start laughing.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally breathed and I could tell it took all he had to sound serious. “I’ll stop.”

  “Thank you,” I allowed.

  “Alright, let’s get to work then, yeah?” he flashed another perfect smile and then turned to his computer.

  “Yes, sounds good,” I smiled back; just to seem like a sane, rational thinking person. Also, it was kind of hard not to smile back when he looked at me like that. Because even though he had this ability to be absolutely and terrifyingly scary, he also had the ability to look anything but. His smile was really, seriously perfection.

  “Ok, so what I’m going to have you do is some background work on an upcoming game. I have a few smaller games that run bi-weekly, you will also be helping me monitor those. But I need to look into some of the players for the big game in April. I don’t want what happened with you ever happening again.” Fin paused for a sEcond to suck in a breath and I couldn’t help but interrupt.

  He tricked me. He tricked my guts.

  “Wait,” I held up my hand to emphasize my command. “Wait, stop. I wanted to talk to you, remember.”

  Fin dropped his head on a sigh, and I almost felt bad for irritating him, but when he looked up and I saw he was trying not to laugh again I easily stopped feeling bad.

  “You’re sneaky, Fin Hunter, I’ll give you that,” I admitted with narrowed eyes. “But I’m not going to fall for your stupid compliment-distraction-tactic again. So don’t even bother trying it. Now I really do need to talk to you about-“

  “Ellie,” he interrupted, his voice lowered to a rumbling timber. “You can just call me Fin.”

  “What?” I asked out of pure confusion.

  “You can just call me Fin,” he explained, his voice maintaining that sexy sound sending tingles to my very fingertips. “You just called me Fin Hunter. It’s the third time today you’ve used both my first and last name. Actually, you’ve never just said my first name alone. We’re business associates now; it’s Ok to call me just Fin.”

  I cleared my throat feeling about as uncomfortable as I could. He was right; I hadn’t actually referred to him as just “Fin” yet. Even in my head I kept referring to him as Fin Hunter, as if he was this mystical creature I wouldn’t actually have to deal with in real life…. like Santa Clause. Or Dracula. Or Johnny Depp.

  The thought of calling him only “Fin” sent goose bumps skittering down my spine though. And I didn’t know why, or why it bothered me so much to be on casual terms with this guy. Maybe because he was this urban legend at school or even in person he was so gorgeous, so out of my league I felt like I was speaking with a celebrity. But either way, none of that was true. Mostly, he was just an obnoxious bastard that wanted me to pay a debt I didn’t owe.

  Ok, I could be confident about this, I could be strong.

  “Alright, Fin,” I tried for casual, but I knew his name sounded forced and awkward on my tongue. Plus it didn’t help that I had to bite down on my bottom lip to keep from following up his first name with his last.

  “See?” Fin smiled down at me. “That wasn’t so hard. It was actually kind of nice. You’ve got this soft, gentle voice; it’s actually kind of sexy.”

  He leaned toward me and his eyes dropped to my mouth, which was, of course, hanging open. And that’s when I realized he was doing it again!

  “Stop flustering me!” I demanded. At this rate I was never going to say what I needed to!

  Fin broke out in a crooked, triumphant smile then, his gaze finding mine again. “But you’re so fun to fluster,” he admitted.

  I let out a growl of frustration and watched as his smile grew. Brat.

  “I can’t do this,” I rushed my words out afraid one more compliment from him and I’d be signing over my soul. “I can’t help you, or work for you or do wh
atever it is you want me to do. I don’t owe you the money. My roommate does. And I don’t know where she is, or where your money is, but I do know that none of this is my responsibility. And even though I want to help you find her, I do not want any part of your illegal gambling…. thing. Nor can I be of any help because I know nothing about gambling or poker or Texas shuffle them or anything!”

  “Wait,” Fin commanded and I didn’t want to admit this, but if he told me to do anything in that voice I probably would, it was probably why I was here right now even when I wanted to be anywhere else. “Texas shuffle them?”

  And before I could respond he burst into laughter, throwing his head back and all.

  “Or whatever it’s called,” I finished on a sigh.

  “It’s not called Texas shuffle them,” He sobered and then looked me over as if he were really seeing me for the first time. “It’s called Texas Hold ‘em and we don’t even play that here. We play Five Card Stud.” He paused, visibly gathered patience and then continued, “Ok, here’s the thing. This is going to work for us because I need to hire help and now that I’m out seven thousand dollars I can’t afford to pay someone. You owe seven thousand dollars and need a way to pay that off. You solve a problem for me and I solve a problem for you. On top of that, you can’t prove to me that this isn’t your debt. Not just by your word. I want to believe you, Ellie. I do. You don’t seem to have any clue about any of this. And you seem genuine enough. But whenever I decide to believe you, I start arguing with myself. It’s not like the gambling version of you knew what they were doing either. Sure you were up for a while, but honestly that could all have been blind luck because as soon as you started losing you really started losing. Like a ball of burning flames kind of losing. So I gave you time, I gave you twenty four hours to come up with something else, some way to prove to me that this isn’t your debt. Right? If this really isn’t yours you could have gone to the police, you could have tracked down your alleged roommate, or what I really expected you to do, you could have gone to your brothers. I know Beckett, and I know Grayson, and whether this debt was really yours or not, I know they would have stepped in for you and tried to settle this. So, when I remind myself of all that, I can’t talk myself into believing this debt isn’t yours. I am going to make this very simple for you. We won’t even need to go to the police or anything. First of all, I’m going to tell you what I want. I want you to work for me. Maybe, ten hours a week. Nothing too demanding, nothing that will take away from school. And in the meantime you are welcome to hunt down the person you really believe has my money, or come up with it on your own. I’m not going to pressure you for it other than I need it in six weeks. I need it by April twenty seventh. However, if you are telling the truth, hell, if you are not telling the truth and just want to get out of this, all you have to do is ask Grayson to talk to me. I owe him. If Grayson talks to me, I’ll let this go.”