Выбрать главу

“Does Darren realize he has an illness?” Kate asked in a gentle tone.

“Are you kidding? He thinks I’m the one who’s crazy.”

“That’s why it’s important for you to be here,” Kate replied. “Look around the room, Audrey. This program is for the loved ones of compulsive gamblers. We’ve all known gamblers and we’ve all needed support. Of the sixteen of us here, not one has ever sat at a craps table or placed a bet.

Rod, a long-time participant chimed in. “Hell, I’ve never even bought a lottery ticket.”

“Exactly,” continued Kate. “And we all know what it’s like to love someone who is buried in denial.”

Rod took a bite of his gingersnap, quickly swallowing. “Yeah. I’d bet my special someone is busy at one of Liam Doyle’s slot machines right now.”

Kate bit the inside of her lip as a few whispers traveled through the group. Here we go again.

Liam Doyle, owner of a couple of top Las Vegas casinos, was the author of many a compulsive gambler’s destruction. An enigmatic entrepreneur, he’d become the most lauded businessman to hit the Strip since Steve Wynn.

Defying Vegas tradition, Doyle had created a number of casino hotels that resembled the finest of New York boutique properties. The young and hip lined up to get a peek inside his establishments. No gaudy neon signs for Doyle; rather he’d built sleek, modern properties that catered to every whim and created brand new ones. If you wanted gourmet foods, Liam Doyle had them delivered, plus a bag of chips. If you wanted fancy cocktails, Liam Doyle offered them in flavors and colors invented by the top mixologists.

Oh, and you didn’t just play the slots at Liam Doyle’s casinos. You played them in the most upscale gaming rooms in the city. Sure, folks lauded him as a visionary with the upcoming opening of his newest hotel, Vice, but she saw Doyle for what he really was … an enabler.

The whole town was full of enablers, but she bore a special hatred for Doyle. His sexy hotels brought in a whole new clientele, gave it a unique veneer of respectability. She knew several people who’d never entered a casino before or played a game of poker drawn to Doyle’s properties like it emitted a Siren’s song. And he grew richer every year off their losses. It was hard enough living in Sin City without Doyle making sin so tempting.

Dammit, she’d already had a shitty day with Calvert. Hearing about the casino impresario again just set her even more on edge.

“I understand the grand opening for Vice is coming up,” said Patti, another participant. “It’s supposed to be his most elaborate venture yet.”

“How much more posh could it get?” asked Rod. “His other properties have already brought in more winnings than the Venetian and Caesar’s Palace combined. I can’t pry my boyfriend away from Doyle’s clubs. He says it’s not about the money, it’s about the character and ambience. Right. Personally, I think he’s hoping for an eyeful of the big man himself.”

No doubt Liam Doyle would end up richer than Croesus as he indulged everyone from disgraced heads of state to Hollywood starlets once it opened. She wondered if he’d built a special little chamber where he spun straw into gold as well, or paid the Devil his cut.

“The Chronicle says he is ‘single-handedly revitalizing the Las Vegas entertainment scene,’” said Audrey. “They printed his picture. I had no idea the dude was so fine. He almost makes me want to take up gambling myself.”

“Fine doesn’t even begin to describe him,” Patti chimed in. “He makes Adam Levine look like one of the unwashed masses.”

Kate put up a hand. She hadn’t seen the photo, and didn’t care to. It seemed so many of their meetings began this way. Instead of diving into the issues they needed to address, they spent the first few minutes talking about people like Doyle and the celebrities who frequented their casinos. Sometimes it felt as if the loved ones of compulsive gamblers were just as obsessed with the industry.

“Okay, everyone. Our conversation is derailing. I’m sure Liam Doyle has a very pretty face but that’s not why we’re here.” She let out a breath. “Audrey, are you comfortable sharing more of your story?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you could tell me yours first?”

All eyes turned toward Kate. Of course, any of the regulars could recite her ridiculous history. She braced herself for the familiar ache that never quite went away, the one that haunted the deepest part of her gut. Even though her life had taken a tragic turn ten years ago, that hurt had never disappeared, it had only numbed.

She sat up straight and took a deep breath. “Of course. I am the daughter of a compulsive, unrepentant gambler. I don’t have a single memory of my dad where he wasn’t holding a pack of cards or dice.” She let out a little laugh. “It’s funny, for most kids, the sound of dice clacking together conjures up images of board games and fun. For me, it meant he was betting on something, anything. He’d bet on whether or not you took a next breath. His addiction led him down some dark paths, and I kept expecting him to just not come home one night. Deep down, I always believed it would be the death of him.”

“Is he still alive?” Audrey asked, her voice a whisper.

“To be honest, I’m never sure. Once I left home, I couldn’t allow myself to obsess over him anymore. I had to put him behind me. We don’t really keep in touch. Most of the time, I can’t be certain he’s not lying in a ditch somewhere. But then every so often, he pops up again. Usually to ask for money. And on the worst nights, when I’m not my better self, I prefer thinking he’s in a ditch.” When she spotted Audrey’s frown, she twitched her lips into something she hoped resembled a grin. Got to keep the spirits up.

“That’s the problem with our gamblers,” Rod joked. “They refuse to die.”

Audrey shuffled in her folding chair. She clearly didn’t share his black humor, a defense mechanism.

“Anyway,” Kate continued, “Despite my dad’s issues, my mom never divorced him, no matter how I pleaded with her. I’d hoped, maybe if he knew he’d lose her he might…”

The door to the program room swung open and Lisa joined the group, her face pale. Her oldest friend from New Horizons, Lisa had warned her she might not make their session that evening. It was ultimatum night for her husband and she’d planned to offer him a choice: his family or gambling. From the haunted look on her face, he’d made the wrong choice.

“Group, take ten,” said Kate, standing. She rushed over to Lisa. “Well?”

“I did it. The kids are at my mom’s. We’re staying with her for a while.”

Kate drew her in for a hug. “Oh, sweetie, I’m proud of you. I know it’s hard.”

Lisa stood still for a moment, her spine as straight as a ballerina’s. But then she sucked in a breath and collapsed into her, weeping into her shoulder. “Donny acted like he didn’t care. He just raided my purse and walked out. He didn’t even look back.”

“It’s better this way, I swear.”

“I know. I just… I didn’t expect it to hurt so much.” She raised her head and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I’ve spent the last few years wishing he’d fall off the face of the earth, and it pisses me off to be so upset.” She let out a bitter laugh. “After I dropped off the kids, I had a hunch and decided to look for him. He was exactly where I expected him to be—one of Liam Doyle’s poker tables, joking with the dealer as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He didn’t even notice me.”

It seemed she heard the words ‘Liam Doyle’ in every New Horizons meeting lately. Frankly, she was getting sick of it. If she ever met the bastard…

“Kate, what am I going to do? There’s so much to think about. Bank accounts, the mortgage. And the kids keep asking for their dad.” She ran a hand over her pale, wet face. “I can’t do this alone.”