understood the arena. I wouldn’t have the first clue what to do with what you’re handling. Even the charitable functions we had were all skiing and snowboard related in some manner.”
“It’s probably not much different, just different vendors and sponsors, different kind of sport, but more or less the same end result.”
“I guess you’re right. So what’s the deal with Maksimov? Why would he come out if he’s not part of the deal?”
“I’m sure he’ll have some pretense, but now that I’ve raised my head, no doubt he’s coming out to try and schmooze me into doing one of his upcoming events.”
“Do different hotels hold different poker events?”
“No, it’s usually one resort that gets the license to host the big events. But other hotels definitely have exhibition events, usually tied to a charity or bigger event of some sort, and bring us all in. It’s good exposure and the pros usually kick in. It’s good philanthropy, too, and the celebs usually come out as well. For the promoters, it’s good to get as many headliners locked in as early as possible. Ostensibly it’s for charity or some such, but if regular folks think they’re going to be rubbing elbows with celebrities while playing the five-dollar slots, then they tend to book into whatever hotel is holding the next upcoming widely advertised event.”
“Have you played for this guy before? Is there something wrong with how he does things?”
“Yes, I have, and on the surface, no.”
“But below the surface?”
Brett lifted one shoulder. “There are a lot of rumors, possibly some shady dealings. There is Russian backing with the resort that’s never been entirely on the up and up, at least that’s the word. There’s rumor of other questionable European backing, Pacific Rim, too.”
“That’s…rather broad in scope. Is that common?”
“Not quite to that degree, and it’s not necessarily true, either. Other than the Russian part. No one has ever been able to prove anything, but the talk persists. It’s been several years now, and talk doesn’t usually stick like that unless there’s something to it. And my gut tells me there is. So, when Maksimov comes knocking, I usually find somewhere else to be.”
“Is it just you, or all the pros?”
“Most of the guys at the top tend to steer clear, or only get involved when the outside support is unimpeachable.”
“I imagine that doesn’t sit well with whoever owns the place. To be shunned. Are there other, I guess you could call it privately blacklisted resorts?”
“Some, especially the oldest ones, have never been able to shake some of their early connections to organized crime.”
“Is that still a thing? Really?”
“Not in the way of the past, no. It’s taken on a far more international flavor these days. Not to mention highly sophisticated. You have both syndicated, organized action, as well as independent problems.”
“I guess I thought that would have been dealt with a long time ago. I know the town has really tried to build up a more family-friendly atmosphere.”
“Because it plays well. But don’t be fooled. When you have that much money concentrated in such a small, controlled area, it would be foolish to think they don’t have a hand in.”
“And you think Maksimov works for that kind of outfit?”
“Directly or indirectly? No proof, but I trust my instincts.”
“A Russian Mafioso. Great. And, of course he’s staying here. Are you sure I can’t rework the books and block him out?”
“He’s harmless enough, especially if he wants something from me.”
“And when he doesn’t get it?”
“He never gets it. It’s par for the course. He just keeps getting sent out to try. Not my problem if he goes back empty-handed. And, chances are, to be honest, if he doesn’t get a verbal commitment from me, he’ll be able to schmooze it from any number of other players.”
“I thought you said-”
“I said some of them, mostly the ones who can afford to say no. Most players can’t. Maksimov will do fine on his recruiting mission. He just won’t be recruiting me.”
She continued to look dubious, and he bent down to kiss her nose.
“I’ll let you know if I think anything has changed where he’s concerned. But while I’m not happy he’s going to be here, it’s just an irritation. At least if he’s staying here, you keep an eye, too, maybe help run a little interference and keep him off my back.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Use those guest services skills you’re always bragging about.”
She merely arched a brow, but said, “I’ll do whatever I can.”
He bussed her on the mouth. “See? Good teamwork.”
“Speaking of teamwork…” She smiled against his mouth as he was already kissing her before she could finish the sentence.
There would be a lot going on over the next few weeks that would take a fast-lane learning curve to deal with…so she definitely could get used to having someone around who was so in tune with her.
She gasped and arched off the bed as he moved lower down her body. Especially when his thoughts were tuned in to doing this…
Chapter 14
Brett leaned into the turn as he eased his bike around the bend, then up another steep, winding curve. When he’d left the desert, he’d headed east, across the flat prairie of middle America, before encountering his first swell of hills and mountains. Nothing like they had out west, but he’d never taken off in the direction of the Rockies, so he’d found it a bit exhilarating, all the twists and turns, steep ascents and swift downhill drops. When he’d taken off from the resort a few hours ago, he’d intended to go home, back to the inn, but instead he’d found himself turning up a side road that led into the hills, where he’d been tooling around the winding back roads since.
Thinking.
About things like why he’d so easily and naturally thought of Kirby’s inn as home. It hadn’t been a casual thought, either. He’d never once thought of his hotel rooms as home, or even a home away from home. Though he’d stayed in the exact same rooms many, many times over the years, and they’d been familiar to him, they had always remained exactly what they were. A place to crash, eat, and sleep between sitting at tables for endless hours. And giving interviews, teaching seminars, doing local promotion for the various event hosts and sponsors. Whatever was required of him to help give back to the sport that had given him, well, pretty much everything.
If ever a place had felt like home it had been his rooms at Vanetta’s, but for the past few years, they’d come to feel like more of a hideout than home and hearth. He hadn’t thought of it that way at the time, of course. It had been the only real home he’d ever known. But now…now…
He thought about the inn, about Kirby. And maybe it wasn’t that place, either, specifically, though his feelings about the inn itself were definitely filled with real affection. Maybe it was Kirby. Thinking of her, wanting to return to her, wherever she was. That’s what felt like the haven he’d always thought a home should be. A place where the world dropped away and he could relax, be completely and utterly himself. And, more importantly, would know, without a doubt, that that was exactly who he was supposed to be.
Being with Kirby wasn’t hiding, not like Vanetta’s had become. He’d been seeking serenity, he realized, which was something rare in his profession, given both the intensity of the game itself and the actual location of the events. Bright lights and endless noise was life inside a casino.
But it was a serenity that went deeper than creating a peaceful environment. It was serenity of the soul. Where he could discover a completely different kind of fulfillment. Where all sorts of needs that had nothing to do with money and repayment of debts, real or imagined, existed. It was about feeding into something entirely different. And he knew that all of those things existed for him, or could exist for him, wherever Kirby Farrell happened to be.
