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Authors: Aubrey St. Clair

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BOOK: Trust
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Hmm, so you

re saying I can never
truly believe anything a poker player tells me.

 


Right.

 


Aren’t
you a poker player also, though?

 

Texas
Tom laughs heartily again. 

You are a quick one dear.  I can see what Chase sees in
you.  You

re right though.  You can

t believe anything I

m say
ing
either.  Maybe Chase underestimates you when he says you

re not a player.  You sound like you
know how to keep your eyes open and question everything, like any
professional.  I

d hate to have to face you at the
tables.

 

I
blush at the compliment even
though I know
he’s
just an old charmer. 

 


Anyway, like I said, Chase is one of the
good ones.  My point is just you have to know who you

re with.  There are poker players that
can

t separate real life from the game, and
you never know whether what

s comi
ng out of their mouth is
the truth or some bluff their running for god knows what purpose.  But I don

t see Chase doing that.  Mind you, if he
did lie to you, you

d probably never know it, but I doubt he

d ever do it maliciously.  In a way
it’s
a good thin
g.

 

Tom

s right, of course.  I never would have
guessed that Chase
didn’t
own that house, and if the owners
hadn’t
surprised us I probably never would
have found out.  He would have bought it secretly and then one day we

d go and it would have actually be
en his.  I get that his intent
wasn’t
malicious on that, but it was scary how
easily he fooled me.  How easily he could lie about it. 

How can it be a good thing?

 


Well
…”
Tom paused for a moment before his face
split into another grin. 

Think of all th
e surprise parties
he can plan for you that you

ll never see coming.

 

I
smile back, but this time
it’s
a little bit forced.  Those better be the only lies he
ever tells from now on.  But how will I ever know for sure?

 

 

 

 

 

 


I never thought I

d tire of
the
spa, but there are only so many treatments a girl can get
…”

 

Chase
is buttoning up a deep purple shirt and looking at me through the full length
mirror of the bathroom.  From where
he’s
standing he can see me sitting on the
bed, staring at my manicure
d nails.  He turns away
from my reflection to look at me directly. 

 


Am I spending too much time at the
tables?  Are you feeling neglected?
” 
I can see in his eyes that
he’s
actually concerned and I immediately
feel guilty for complaining.  It

s not that
I have a big
opposition to daily massages, but
there’s
a fine line between pampering yourself
and just being spoiled and overindulged.  As far as I

m concerned, I standing right on the
edge of that line.

 

“I

m sorry,
it’s
a stupid thing to complain about.
” 
From what
he’s
been telling me,
he’s
been winning a lot of money at the
poker tables this week.  Far more than we

re spending at this hotel, or the spa,
or the room service.  It

s just lonely eating my meals alone.  Most nights
he’s
played so late that
I’ve
been asleep when
he’s
come back to the room, and then he
doesn’t
wake up until lunch.  We eat together
and then he leaves again.  But I get that
it’s
his job, and
I’ve
already pulled him away from it enough.

 

“No,”
Chase says, walking towards me and t
hen grabbing my hands. 
“It

s not.  You

re right.  We came here for a vacation
and for me to play a bit.  The games have been so juicy though, full of
businessmen looking for some action and not afraid to lose obscene amounts of
money in return for a story
to tell about how they
sat down with a television pro. 
That’s
why everyone comes here these days. 
But you

re right, that
wasn’t
supposed to be the focus of this trip. 
I don

t have to play anymore.  Let

s just go and do something today
instead.

 

“No. 
You

re here to make money, at least partially.

 

“Okay,
I’ll
tell you what, let

s go back to the original plan of doing
both. 
I’ll
go and play for a few hours today, and
then
I’ll
stop around dinner time. 
We’ll
go someplace fancy.  Give you a chance
to w
ear one of those dresses you bought.

 

I
smile at the thought of those dresses.  I bought three of them, and haven

t had an occasion to wear a single one
yet.  If we hurry through dinner, maybe
we’ll
even have time for some of the lingerie
I haven

t had an
opportunity to model for him yet either. 
“Deal.”

 

Since
we have plans to actually go out, I decide that one more trip to the spa is
warranted, opting for a facial and hair treatment in order to look my best for
our date.  Although it has only been a few
days, I

m feeling excited and giddy at the
prospect of spending time with Chase again. 

 

As
dinner time approaches, I pull on my slinky evening gown, almost feeling like I

m getting ready for the prom and the
only thing left to do is wait for my date to b
ring me
a corsage.

 

One
of the difficulties with having so much time on my hands lately is
it’s
given me a lot of time to think, and
unfortunately one of the things on my mind has been the conversation I had with
Tom that first day.  It

s not that I don

t
trust Chase,
but everyone has secrets or part of their lives that they don

t share.  Especially with someone they
haven

t known for very long, as is true with
Chase and
me
.  The house issue itself
wasn’t
what bothered me so much, of course. 
It was the fac
t that Denise had been involved.  The
lie that hurt the most was the lie of omission, that he was sneaking around
meeting her,
meaning
she was obviously a much bigger part of his life than he
led me to believe.  I know there
isn’t
anything going on between
the two of them, but I also know that Denise would change
that if she could.  Hell, s
he’s
probably actively plotting it.  And
although I trust that Chase is no longer interested in her, I can

t help but worry about what she might
try to do to convince him
.  She is beautiful,
wealthy, and lives in the same city he does.  She has an air of sophistication
about her, when she
isn’t
being a complete bitch, and I know that probably draws men
to her like pollen to a bee.

 

Of
course, I have my own baggage to take
care of, which
makes it harder to blame Chase.  Harrison has been texting me lately, and given
the fact that
I’ve
been trying to let go of all of my anger and negative
feelings regarding him lately, coupled with the extra time
I’ve
had on my hands,
I’ve
be
en
responding.  Once he realized that I
wasn’t
mad anymore, his attitude changed.  Now
that
he’s
no longer consumed with trying to
apologize and explain away his actions,
he’s
become friendly again.  Charming,
even.  It reminds me of why I fell for him in
the
first place.  And although I would never go back to him, it makes it harder for
me to completely blame Chase for his relationship with Denise.  He has a
history with her that
I’ll
never be a part of, and so I can never truly understand.

 

I
want to forg
et about all of that tonight and just
spend some time with Chase again, the two of us having fun together like we did
that first week. 
We’ll
go to a nice restaurant, have some wine, and then come
back here. 

 

By
the time he walks through the door, I

m mo
re excited
about the night than when he left, and since
he’s
actually come back to the room earlier
than I expected, he must be as well.

 


I
wasn’t
expecting you back for another hour,

I say, although I

m already dressed and ready since I had
nothing else
to do anyway.  I

m happy to start the night now.  It
means
we’ll
be back in plenty of time and with
plenty of energy for the second part of what I have planned.

 


We have to go,

he says.

 


Oh, do we have reservations?
” 
Something about the look on his fa
ce makes me stop, though.  I don

t think
he’s
talking about the restaurant.

 


No, I mean we have to go back to Vegas. 
There’s
a problem with the house.

 


Oh really?

Disappointment floods through me as my
hopes for the night are dashed. 

What

s wrong?

 

“I

m not sure, Denise
didn’t
say.  She just said she needs me to
come back as soon as possible to deal with it in person.  Given that it takes
so long to get back, I think we’d better leave tonight. 
There’s
a flight leaving in 3 hours, otherwise
we’ll
ha
ve to wait
until morning.

 

He

s looking at my face, and my ability to
keep my emotions in check is obviously not as refined as his. 
“You

re upset,”
he says. 
“I

m
sorry.  You

re right.  Fuck it.  We can wait until
tomorrow to go.

BOOK: Trust
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ads

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