Bet in the Dark Read online

  My thoughts also flowed to the seven people I was investigating for Fin’s upcoming game. Out of ten I already ruled out three, deeming them untrustworthy and lazy. Lazy people didn’t pay out debts because lazy people rarely had jobs to give them money. They also didn’t win very often, or that’s what Fin said.

  I was unwillingly flattered by that statement since he apparently hadn’t thought I was lazy when he let my identity-thieving roommate enter his game. I actually learned he had rather a high opinion of me to let me in one of his bigger games. While most of the games that went on constantly under his aggressive supervision were played for small amounts, the winners coming out with only a couple hundred bucks at best, he held higher stakes tournaments every two months. It was in one of the bigger games that Tara lost all the money.

  Apparently the most money ever lost in one of his games.

  Why wouldn’t it happen to me?

  I was really worried about the winner of the game, after he explained to me that usually transactions are made online, but I/Tara closed my/her account immediately following my/her colossal loss, therefore leaving the winner high and dry.

  And even though Fin promised me the winner technically had no idea who I was, since the game survived because of its anonymity, I had still been worried. One super scary man coming to my door was enough. What if the next guy wasn’t as nice as Fin?

  And that was assuming I could call Fin “nice.”

  But then he told me that the money went through him, so he already paid the winner and the money was actually due him, outright.

  Which somehow made me feel worse for the debt. Even though it wasn’t mine to owe. I felt all itchy and uncomfortable thinking about Fin paying all that money when he might not ever get paid back. Especially from me.

  “That bad huh?” Britte asked from the other side of an empty table. She pushed in the chairs I was neglecting and righted the salt and pepper shaker, double checking the lids for pranks we deemed outdated, but the general middle school population still found hilarious.

  “What do you mean?” I looked up at her so jealous that even flushed from busing tables and in her greasy black polo uniform she was gorgeous and poised. The dull black of the Bailey’s uniform only seemed to intensify the shiny glow of her glossy hair. Today her eyeliner was neon green and only worked to set off her bright emerald eyes. I loved her, she was my best friend. But honestly, how pretty she was just didn’t seem fair to the rest of us mere mortals.

  “Fin Hunter,” she whispered dramatically. “You’ve been staring at the same spot on this table for six entire minutes. Your face is all puckered and your eyebrows are actually pointing downward. Was he mean to you?”

  “No, he wasn’t mean,” I admitted even while I wondered why he wasn’t.

  “Did he really expect sexual favors?” Britte gasped. “Because I will castrate him if he did. Or not, if you um, liked them.”

  I blushed. “Britte!”

  “So, that’s a no then. Just as frustrated as always?” She gave me a smirk and moved on to the next table forcing me to follow her so I could defend myself.

  “He really just made me work for him. Nothing weird happened.” Except I almost attacked his mouth with my mouth. But even to my best friend I couldn’t admit that out loud.

  “So what does that mean?” she pressed.

  “Mostly he has me research potential gamblers. I have to make sure their credible just in time for them to destroy their credit. It’s complicated, you wouldn’t understand,” I explained dryly.

  “Oooh,” she gushed. “So you get to spy on them? Are they all people we know?”

  “Or have heard of.”

  Britte made a squeal of delight, or intrigue since this whole fiasco was feeding her gossip obsession too. “I need names.”

  “No way,” I shook my head. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

  “Yes, fine. But those things never include best friends. And it turns out that I am your best friend. You must include me.”

  “Seriously, B, I can’t. You know at least half of these people, or have heard of them. And Fin would kill me if I told. Well, first he will kill me for the money I never intend on paying him back and then he’ll raise me from the dead, just in time to kill me again. I can’t do it. I value my life too much. Or my…. reincarnated sEcond life too much.”

  Britte paused to think that over and with a curt nod of her head, turned back over her shoulder to say, “I understand that.”

  “Oh, good,” surprised by her easy concession I went back to work.

  “I understand that you can’t tell me their names. But if I guess them, that’s a whole new thing, right?” she smirked at me and then skipped, yes literally skipped, off to gather menus from the different server stations.

  I stared after her until Ty shouted from across the room for me to get back to work. Really, I was not this negligent of an employee, but today did not seem to be my day. Although the same could have been said about this week…. month…. year.

  Gah! Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

  I wandered back to the host stand to greet an elderly couple. They were holding hands and smiling at each other and I had to physically hold back the “aw” I wanted to sigh. I took them to their seat wondering about that kind of love. My parents seemed to be in love, although they could be intense at times. This couple seemed to be the llifelong-googly-eyed kind of love and who knew how long they had put up with each other.

  A pit of despair settled in my stomach and I couldn’t understand it. I wasn’t exactly on the hunt for love, or for a relationship. My last boyfriend ended in disaster and maybe Fin was right, maybe there wasn’t even a future for us if he hadn’t been the cheating bastard he turned out to be.

  So why did I hold on to him for three years?

  I didn’t feel desperate, or needy or clingy…. But could those words be used to describe me if I stayed in an unhealthy relationship for that long?

  And with someone as skeevy as Colton?

  Back at the host stand I threw my head dramatically into the crook of my elbow and leaned down on the high podium to groan against my skin.

  “Was I pathetic to stay with Colton for so long?” I winced out loud when I felt another presence looming over me.

  “Nah girl, Colton’s a fine piece of man. But a playa has needs, you hear? Although, you with me, and I would forever be faithful. Word?”

  Oh no. Not Britte. Creep-O Steve-O.

  He peered at me from under a mess of shaggy blonde hair that was supposed to be stylish but somehow managed to look frizzy and greasy at the same time. His face was be-pimpled from his love affair with mountain dew and energy drinks and his skinny little body was more starving child than muscular man. He had a smattering of freckles across the high plains of his face that would one day, one day far, far, far in the future, be one of his most attractive features, and he had lips that again, would one day be fantastic. But as of right now were pursed and provocative and just gross.

  “Steve, that was meant for Britte,” I whispered, too mortified to explain further.

  “Mmm, I figured. But I also figured I had some sage advice for you, woman,” Steve looked over me, his eyes trailing from my head to my waist, and back up; a signature move that earned him his nickname.

  “Real sage,” I drawled.

  “You heed that now,” he winked at me.

  I shuddered.

  “And let me offer my services yet again if you continue to feel down on yourself.” His smile turned lascivious before he added, “Give me five minutes, I can make you feel the opposite of pathetic.”

  “Oh, god,” I gasped. “You’re seventeen.”

  “But my soul is old.” He took a step forward, resting his palms on the host stand and bouncing up and down.

  “Ty!” I shouted, panicked and amused all at the same time. “Ty! Stevie is hitting on me again!”

  Steve took a fast step back and shot me a killing glance. I tucked in my lips to hide
my

  triumphant smile but when Ty came storming over immediately I couldn’t stop myself from grinning.

  “Steve, do you want to do dishes tonight?” Ty demanded in a voice that reminded me of a drill sergeant.

  “No sir,” Steve frantically shook his head.

  “Do you want to scrape gum from the bottom of every table?” Ty took a menacing step forward.

  “No, no sir,” Steve stammered. All of these tasks were dreaded and obnoxious, but I knew it was Ty’s authoritative manner that really had Steve shaking in his boots.

  “Then stop harassing Ellie, or Britte or any other girl on or near this restaurant’s premises. Do you understand?” Ty finished and I almost saluted.

  “Yes, I understand,” Steve obediently responded.

  “Good, then go do a bathroom check.” Ty jerked his chin in the direction of the restrooms and Steve went scurrying off to fulfill his duty.

  I sighed a breath of relief and then patted Ty on the huge, steroid-esque bicep. “Thanks, officer doom.”

  “Why are you so much trouble tonight, Ellie?” Ty turned on me, his face still rigid planes of irritation.

  “Who me?” I squeaked, so not ready to have the wrath of universal soldier teeming down on me.

  “Yes, you. You’re not usually the one causing problems around here,” he lectured.

  Before I could respond the doors opened and college-aged boys pushed their way through. They were rowdy and laughing and I immediately recognized some of the faces from around campus. I ducked my head, letting my hair fall over my shoulders. I didn’t know very many guys from school. I wasn’t super outgoing to begin with, but Colton had occupied my time up until now and he didn’t have very many guy friends.

  That should have been clue number one….

  “What are you doing here?” Ty bellowed in a playful tone. What? Ty was never playful.

  “Hey man.”

  Oh no. Oh, no no no no no.

  “You here to eat? Or just dropped by because you missed my beautiful mug?” Ty laughed in a gruff way I imagined his laugh would sound like, if I had ever heard it before.

  I kept my chin tucked to my chest and counted pairs of shoes so I could discretely pluck the exact number of menus I needed without having to address the males gathered around the host stand.

  “Mainly I have business with your hostess,” Fin announced loud enough for probably everyone in the restaurant to hear. If he was trying to get my attention, he succeeded.

  Too bad I was not about to let him know that.

  I felt Ty’s gaze intensely on my back, but decided now was a perfect time to make sure every menu was facing the right way and all the inserts were tucked uniformly just inside the front cover. Finally a protective hand covered my shoulder and Ty gave it a squeeze. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to shake me into lifting my head or what, so I chose to ignore him too.

  I dropped down so I could rifle through the cabinet for a handful of after dinner mints to refill the bowl. Not that it needed refilling, but it was something. And at this moment I would take anything to occupy my time other than looking Fin in the eye or acknowledging him in any way.

  I heard Fin finally say, “But we’re here to eat too. It’s been too long Ty. I haven’t seen you at Sunday dinner in months. What gives?”

  From my position on the floor I watched Ty’s shoes shift uncomfortably back and forth. What in the world? Ty never got nervous, and now Fin was making him fidget? Plus, Sunday dinner? How in the world did these two know each other? There was absolutely no family resemblance, not even of the distant cousin variety. While they were both tall, dark and handsome, Fin was golden tanned skin and wild, wavy hair. Ty was mocha-toned with perfectly creamy skin and short, but obviously stick straight almost black hair. I didn’t want to assume Ty’s heritage, but he was in no way descended from Fin’s obviously Caucasian ancestors.

  “Uh, yeah, I’ve been working a lot,” Ty explained. And while that was true I suspected there was more to his avoiding of the “Sunday dinners.” “But I am planning this Sunday for sure. You grandmother has been after me. I promised her I would show.”

  “Awesome,” Fin grunted in a way that said he was too masculine to reveal how truly happy he was with that answer.

  “So four?” Ty asked, indicating the guys surrounding Fin.

  I pulled myself up off the floor in time to drop the mints into the plastic dish on the edge of the host stand and grab the menus again. As much as I didn’t’ want to I was ready to do my duty and then hide in the kitchen for the next hour. I finally lifted my head up to meet the eyes of everyone but Fin. They were watching me carefully, obviously speculating how someone as insignificant as me caught the attention of the campus track star turned organizer of all illegal activities.

  Ok, maybe that was a little unfair. He wasn’t the organizer of every illegal activity. But enough of them so that my personal morality judge and jury ruled their final verdict: life in prison without parole.

  “Right this way,” I grabbed the menus and then turned quickly, my eyes on the table I was set on taking them to.

  Fin cleared his throat from behind me.

  “I’ll take them, Ellie,” Ty offered before I could take a step in the right direction.

  What?!? How did Fin get his way with even Ty? Ty was a drill sergeant. Ty fought in Afghanistan, Iraq and Somalia and countless other places in his seventeen yearlong army career! And with a simple throat clear, he was willing to do Fin’s bidding? This was not real life. I was not living real life anymore. Somehow Fin had sucked me into his alternate reality where he reigned as king while the rest of us lowly subjects were allowed to survive only if we carried out his infallible bidding.

  “It’s alright,” I grated out. “I can take them. It is after all my job.”

  “Ellie,” Ty intoned in the voice that brokered no argument. Gah! “I know she’s a troublemaker Hunter, but if you upset her in any way I will physically hurt you.”

  Aw. Ty’s sentiment warmed my cold, bitter heart even as I resented yet another male standing up for me. Could I not be left alone to fight my own battles?

  Oh wait. When left to my own devices things like Fin Hunter happened.

  “You are a traitor,” I hissed as Ty awkwardly carried the menus in his big, bulky hands to one of the booths that surrounded the bar area.

  “You love me,” he called over his shoulder.

  I had no response, in fact I was speechless. I pressed my hands against the host stand and stared down at my uneven nails with contempt.

  “Hey, Ellie,” Fin finally said after a few moments of silence. He leaned against his own hands, although they were positioned higher than mine on the outer ledge of the podium. When I said nothing he prompted, “Aren’t you going to say hi?”

  “Hi,” I gritted out, finally lifting my gaze to meet his. He was clean shaven today, his jaw was smooth and unshadowed, showing of those great lips and strong jawline. Focus. “What are you doing here?”

  He nodded toward where his friends sat. “Eating.”

  “You said you had business with me,” I reminded him. “But tonight is not one of the nights I am scheduled to,” before I could finish the sentence I wiggled my fingers in those annoying air quotes, “work. If you remember we worked out a Monday, Thursday schedule.”

  “You are right. But I forgot to get your number last night. Ridiculous oversight on my part. But I was a little distracted, so….”

  I rolled my eyes. Way too obvious. How in the world did he get so many girls? “Why do we need to exchange phone numbers? We have a schedule; I’ll be there when I’m supposed to. I’m very reliable. If you need me more than that you just have to work it out with me when you see me.”

  He stared at me, hard. His dark chocolate eyes were intense and thoughtful; the only thing softening his expression was the small quirk of his lips like he was trying to hold back whatever he wanted to say. Meanwhile electricity seemed to zip back and forth between u
s, charging the air. Maybe it was one sided on my part, but even his hands, as they rested just inches above mine, felt like a physical weight against my skin. There was this invisible pull, this complete awareness of everything about him and I was becoming helpless to acknowledge it. The only problem was that if I let myself recognize I felt this strength between us, what was I supposed to do with it?

  “I’m sure you are very reliable,” he finally said sounding sincere. “But I might need you in an emergency. Or you might need to get ahold of me.” When I opened my mouth to protest he continued quickly, “Like if you get sick. Instead of having me hunt you down again, you could just text me and let me know you can’t make it.”

  A vision of me in my rattiest sweats, my hair a matted mess, leftover puke dried in the corner of my lips and a cold sheen of sweat running down my temples while I answered the door to an irate Fin made that hypothetical situation crystal clear. He had a point, and I didn’t really feel inclined to argue with him anymore.

  “Ok, that’s a decent enough reason.” I pulled my phone from my apron and opened it to my contacts. “Give it to me.” I held my thumb poised over the touchscreen keypad, ready to act.

  “Here, let’s just switch phones. That will be easier.”

  I thought over the repercussions of handing Fin my phone, but in the end relented. I could easily keep an eye on him for thirty sEconds. With the swap of phones I entered my number into his contacts list, saved it and then discretely scrolled through the rest of his contacts with a casual swipe of my thumb. So. Many. Girls.

  In fact, so many girls with only first name entries. Which told me he didn’t have to try very hard to earn their number and they didn’t care enough to make him.

  I stifled a groan and then held his phone up impatiently while he finished entering his number into my phone. “Did you come here on purpose? Or is running into you just a coincidence?”

  He traded phones with me, and then shoved it into his pocket without even glancing at my entry. Either I was way too suspicious of people for no reason other than I grew up with three, pranking, cruel brothers. Or he was just used to people- read girls- doing whatever he wanted them to.