“Lucky sevens,” she said proudly, then she noticed Michele looking at her. Or rather, at her leg. At the exact spot where Clay’s hand was, as he ran his finger across the fabric of her stocking. Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe there was something more to the stare.
Meanwhile, Klausman laid down his cards, and he had a pair of fives.
A phone rang, and Liam reached into his pocket. Glancing at the screen, he said, “My film agent. Let me go take this.” He rose.
“Wait. Liam, what do you have?” Michele asked.
He waved off his hand. “I got jack shit. That’s what I got. You show them my hand,” he said, bending down to kiss Michele on the forehead. She tilted her face up and let out a small murmur. Maybe she did like him.
After he left, she shrugged and said, “I guess it’s my turn. And I think I might have won my first hand,” she said, showing two kings.
Julia’s chest tightened and annoyance threaded its way through her body. Damn. The last person she’d expected to win was Michele. But then she told herself to let go of the annoyance. This was poker, and you didn’t win every hand. Besides, she was having fun not playing with Skunk watching over her. Not having to show her cleavage to take down a VC. She had her eye on the prize, and she planned to snag the brass ring of victory, and then march into the breakfast meeting with Charlie tomorrow, shove the greenbacks in his face, and tell him to kiss the fuck off.
Klausman pushed back from the table. “Since there’s a break in the action, I’ll take a break.”
Julia turned to Cam, who was finishing his scotch. “Want another?”
“I would love one,” he said.
Michele waggled her empty glass. “I could use another. I’ll join you.”
“Sure. We’ll make it a ladies night behind the bar.”
She was beautiful. She could hold her liquor. And she’d known him for years.
“Here’s your scotch,” Julia said, sliding the glass to Michele, who brought it to her lips and took a swallow.
Julia knew she shouldn’t be jealous, not after what she and Clay had shared, but this woman was here. In New York City. She could see her man anytime she wanted to. Julia studied her as she drank, that pretty brown hair, those gorgeous brown eyes, and her body. But she fought back the sliver of envy that snaked through her. She’d never been the jealous type. Had never been the insecure type either, and she certainly wasn’t going to start down that road tonight. Women didn’t need to battle each other or be bitchy.
“You two seem pretty happy,” Michele offered once they were out of earshot of the men.
“I suppose you could say that,” Julia said with a grin. “And what about you and Liam? He’s rather fond of you.”
“Oh. He’s great,” Michele said quickly. Too quickly.
“When did you start seeing him?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“He’s very sweet. And quite a charmer.”
“You and Clay haven’t been together for very long either, have you?” Michele asked. She clearly had no interest in discussing Liam.
“Two months.”
“That’s really not much, is it?”
“I don’t know. Is it? Isn’t it? Sometimes I think it takes all the time in the world, and sometimes it takes no time,” she said.
“You’re crazy about him, aren’t you?” Michele said, and her voice sounded sad.
Julia rested her elbows on the bar. “I am. Absolutely. In every way.”
“I can tell,” she said, casting her eyes down at her glass.
“I’m glad it’s obvious. Are you okay, though? You look . . .” Her voice trailed off as her bartender instincts to listen to patrons’ woes kicked in.
Michele raised her eyes, and fixed them on Julia. “I want him to be happy,” she said firmly. “My brother and I care deeply for him. We’ve been friends ever since college.” Then she added, “Clay and I.”
“He mentioned you went to school together.”
“He was there for me when I was having a hard time with my parents’ death.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“It was a while ago. But I had a hard time with it in college, and he was there for me,” she said, and it was the second time she’d voiced that word – college. She glanced over at Clay as he chatted with Cam, blowing streams of smoke. Clay reached for his phone, flicking his thumb across the screen casually. Strange for him to be on his phone, Julia thought; he rarely was. But then he put it away quickly.
“I’m glad he was there for you,” she said, and Michele simply nodded, barely listening as she looked at Clay. That’s when it hit her—it hadn’t been a mere coincidence when Michele had watched his hand on her thigh earlier in the game. It wasn’t a coincidence at all. It was a sign of longing, and now Julia knew something about Michele that Clay didn’t know. Something that Michele had been hiding for years.
Or maybe he did know that she longed for him. Maybe he simply hadn’t told Julia yet.
That possibility pissed her off, but somehow she’d have to use it to fuel the game.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Two hours later, she’d pushed thoughts of Michele aside. Clay was with her and only her. Julia might be possessive, but she was not a jealous woman. How could she be jealous when she was closer to her goal? She was almost halfway to the prize, and Liam was making bigger and bigger bets. God bless an actor like him. He was simply flush with cash and didn’t seem to mind parting ways with it.
She revealed her two aces, and Liam laughed, shaking his head. “Got me again,” he said, shoving all the chips to Julia since everyone else was out for this hand.
Another step closer. She felt buoyant, bubbles rising to the surface. She could do this. She could win on her terms. Be free of her debt. The way she wanted to, by clawing her way out of her troubles. The prospect of not having to rely on Clay’s bailout sent a surge of adrenaline through her. She didn’t want a safety net. Her blood pumped faster, turbocharged with anticipation. She could taste freedom on her tongue, like sweet sugary crystals, and that drove her as they played another round, then another, and each time, she added to her totals.
Clay leaned in to nuzzle her neck. “You’re winning, gorgeous. I knew you would.”
“Don’t jinx me,” she said softly.
“No jinxes. Just complete confidence in you.”
A blast of pride raced through her. He was proud of her because she was good, because she’d earned it. Clay was the opposite of her ex. Dillon had taken her for a ride and fooled her. Clay was upfront about everything, and he believed in her. He’d never try to hoodwink her. “I’m glad you feel that way about me,” she said as he knocked back a scotch. “Want me to freshen that up for you?”
“No, bring me a Purple Snow Globe or a Heist. The drink you named for me. Or wait. I have a better idea. Make me a new drink and call it the Long Distance Lover,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
She laughed. “You want me to whip up an impromptu cocktail? You don’t even like mixed drinks.”
“I might if you made me one, but I’d probably just want to lick it off of you,” he said, his dark eyes raking over her.
“You’re drunk.”
“I assure you, I would lick it off you sober, drunk, bone-tired, or sick as a dog,” he whispered in her ear, flicking the tip of his tongue over her earlobe.
“I’m changing your name to Captain PDA.”
“What can I say? I have my woman here with me, and I’m out with my good friends. All is well in the world,” he said, then pulled back to catch Liam’s attention across the table.