Willie’seyes widened. “Look at that bum. Doesn’t stand a chanceand doesn’t realize it.”
Shane watched as a maleadmirer ran a sweating glass down the length of Celeste’s arm. From his vantage point, she didn’t seem disinterested.
In fact,they exchanged words and she even smiled. She continued smiling evenwhen her admirer grabbed a hold of her wrist. Shane dug his heels inbecause he wanted to go over there and ring both of their necks.
“Oh,he’s a goner!” Willie exclaimed as Shane scooted back inhis chair. He’d played the silent observer long enough. “She’sabout to lay into him.”
And sure enough, Celeste’sadmirer stumbled away. Even though no one took his place, Shanestill felt tightly wound like a spring, half wishing the guy wouldcome back so he could punch the daylights out of him.
“Nowdo you believe me?” Willie jabbed his thumb in Celeste’sdirection. “A gal like that you have to win over with a littlewoo woo and expensive dates. Not a face full of whiskey fumes.”
“I’m out,”Russ announced, laying his cards on the table, face up.
Thedeclaration drew Willie back in the game and in turn Shane as well. The sooner he could end this, the sooner he could get to the realreason he was here. He’d arrived shortly after sunset and satin on a few hands to pass the time.
Shane eyed his opponent. Holding four queens, his cards were in his favor. Still, there was apossibility that Willie could be holding a better hand. Yet the oddswere a million to one.
Willingto take a chance, Shane threwa hundred dollar bill on top of the pile, then he waited for theother man to call his bluff.
“That’s toohigh for my blood,” Willie moved to throw his hand in, butShane stayedhim.
“Youhave something of much more value.”
“Andwhat’s that?” Willie gulped.
“Iwant your tickets to the play.”
Williejerked as if Shane hit him.“What for?”
“Acertain lady I’m interested in likes the theater.”
Willie’sdark gaze flitted over the pot, which hovered around five hundreddollars. He licked his lips and Shane knew he had him on the hook.
“Ifyou win, I’ll meet you tomorrow with the tickets.”Smiling broadly, Willie placed two kings and three fours on thetable. “A full house,” he crowed, sitting back in hischair.
Not one for drama, Shaneplaced his queens on the table. Willie leaned forward, and the restof the table erupted in laughter.
Shane slipped into his suitjacket. “Tomorrow. One o’clock. Big Apple Restaurant.”
“Even if I have tocrawl, considering the beating my old lady’s gonna to give me.”
Shane gathered up hiswinnings and stuffed them inside his breast pocket. “Thank youfor the game gentlemen and the conversation.”
“Atleast give us a chance to our money back?” Grissom protested.
While theothers agreed with the number runner, Shanepatted his chest where the wad of money rested. “Gotta pass,fellas. I have some winning over and a little woo wooing to do.”
chapter twelve
Celestehad only downed her second flute of champagne when she reached themansion’s lower level. Not nearly as foxed as she’dliked to be, she entered the salon off the main ballroom. Earlier,she’d avoided the room like the plague because of the half adozen or so tables groaning with food and booze.
Despite her earlier bravado,she’d cracked. She didn’t love Ralph. The old feelingsdidn’t come rushing back as she thought they would, but itdidn’t lessen the sting of finding out her first love had neverloved her after all.
Was it just her or were thewalls really closing in? She shuffled over, relinquished one of theempty flutes, turned her nose up at a bottle of Californian GoldenSable and chose a magnum of Morlant.
Half-filled and woefullyaired, the champagne’s flavor had diminished considerably. Ofcourse, it didn’t prevent her from filling her glass. Shewasn’t drinking for the taste anyway.
Unfortunately,the bubbly wasn’t strong enough to forget the past—sheneeded an open bar or two for that. And yet, it provided enough of abuzz to let loose. Gripping her bottled courage, Celeste followedthe tide through a set of double doors, down a hallway leading to theback of the house and another room she’d refused to enter.
She’dpassed the ballroomearlier in the evening and cut a clear path of it. If anyonerecognized her, they’d keep her on her feet the entire night.
Plus, thescene was too wild even for her taste. Men were picking up theirpartners and throwing them around their hips. Arms and legs flappedas people lost themselves to the hypnotizing tunes of the jazz bandtrying to stay ahead of their demanding audience. Watching them hadbeen exhausting even to a dancer like herself.
Now was a different story. She wanted to dance, get caught up in the moment where the pastdidn’t exist and the future remained happily in the distance.
“Celeste.”
Celeste stumbled, butremained on her feet, allowing the crowd to sweep her up and carryher along. Despite her best efforts, her past had caught up withher.
“Celeste, please stop.We need to talk.” Ralph called after her and too close forcomfort.
More desperate than furious,Celeste picked up her pace. Why couldn’t he just leave it be! She could evade him in the ballroom with some eager suit, whowouldn’t take kindly to an old beau.
Celeste’sanxiety doubled. The entrance to the ballroom was clogged by peoplecoming and going. Desperate, she elbowed a few of them aside. Itdidn’t help. She’d wasted too much time and unnecessaryenergy.
“Celeste.”
Her name rolled off his lipsand pierced her where her heart should’ve been.
She should’ve ignoredhim, kept going. Instead, she allowed him to pull her aside.
Batting away tears offrustration, Celeste faced him.
Still boyishly handsome, theyears looked good on him but he no longer had the capacity to makeher
