She glanced down at her computer screen. “I’m sorry, sir. You’ve reached your limit. ”
“What?”
“You’ve hit your limit for the month. ”
His vision wavered for a moment, anger a sudden boil in his veins. But he kept his most charming smile plastered on his face. “It’s Sheryl, right?”
“Sharon. ”
“My bad. Sharon. I guess I was too distracted by your pretty brown eyes to remember right. ” He turned up that megawatt smile—he knew he wasn’t a bad-looking guy, and it’d served him well before. “Sharon, I get paid next week. ” He heard an office door open, but ignored it, focused only on sweet-talking this Sharon who was the only thing standing between him and winning the pot of his dreams. “I just need a marker till then. I’m a luck
y guy. ”
“How can we help you, sir?” It was one of the pit bosses, and Rob finally registered that two men had entered the room, the blue-blazered boss and some other guy who was so fancy, he didn’t even have a name tag.
Rob shared his broad grin with them. “I was hoping to get a marker. ”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” the pit boss said, but then he went to stand at her desk, looking over her shoulder at her screen, and he grew thoughtful. “I can see you’ve hit a bad run, Mister Haskell. ”
The fancy man joined him, looking at the screen. “A local, are you?” With a clap on the pit boss’s back, he added, “I think Mister Haskell here looks lucky. Another five hundred shouldn’t be a problem. ” He caught Rob’s eye and gave him a chummy wink. “You’re good for it, aren’t you, Haskell?”
Rob nodded like crazy. “Yes, sir. ”
“I’ll let you nice folks get back to business then. ” Rob’s rainmaker shook the pit boss’s hand. “I’m over a barrel here. You’re confident you can stay on top of that project we talked about?”
A look of fear and respect stilled the man’s features. “I sent my boys out to the ranch, Mister Fox. It’s just, they were worried…” He pitched his voice lower. “They’re worried it might be, you know, illegal. ”
The man in the fancy suit nodded grimly. “It’s good of them to be concerned. But you tell them what we’re doing will eventually be good for the land. Hell, think of all those rich dot-commers, anxious to spend their stock options on organic mud baths, hemp robes, hundred-dollar salads with local greens, heirloom this and that, and whatever the hell else we’re pushing these days. Now that’s eco-friendly. It’s just business, and business means making the tough decisions. The smart decisions. You can’t let this little glitch stop progress. We can’t stop building, which means you need to make this disappear for me. Because I can find someone else who will…do you hear what I’m saying?”
“I understand, sir. ” The pit boss added nervously, “The eagle has landed. ”
Then the two men laughed like he’d made some great joke.
Meanwhile, Rob was growing impatient. These dudes were jawing while he needed to get his five bills and get back to the tables. It was right back to Texas Hold ’Em for him. Screw Seven Stud.
Finally the mysterious suit left. The pit boss unlocked the safe and counted out Rob’s chips. “We don’t usually raise the credit limit like this. Not without running it through corporate. ”
“I’m good for it. ” Once he saw those stacks of blue and red, only then did his shoulders begin to loosen. He could feel the weight of them in his hand already.
“You’ve got some timing, hitting us up when one of the Fairview suits was in. ” He handed off a pretty little tray of chips. “Mister Fox is here all the way from New York. ”
Rob took his money and grinned. “I told you I was lucky. ”
Eighteen
“Is everything all set?” Laura cornered her sister as she emerged from the kitchen into the main tavern. “You’ve got enough food? Dan texted me about an hour ago. ” She checked her watch. “They stopped in Fresh Pond for gas, which would put them here by four o’clock. ”
“What? You meant they were coming today?” Sorrow waited a beat, then grinned evilly. “Of course, everything’s all set. For the thousandth time, we’re rea—”
A shadow crossed the window—a large white van, pulling into the lot. “Oh my God, they’re here. ” The day had finally arrived—the History Network people had come to start filming—and if that weren’t good enough, an old colleague of hers was acting as producer. She ran out to the lot to greet them.
People were spilling from the van door, and it was like she was back in the city, seeing the array of tattoos, wildly dyed hair, and a showcase of tattered clothing that’d probably cost a fortune. She glimpsed an impressive amount of gear stowed in the back—mikes, boom poles, cameras, lenses. It was a total thrill.
“Hey, guys,” she called, and cursed herself for sounding like such an eager goofball. She tempered her voice and expression to play it cool. “Come on in. Have a beer on the house before you get settled. ”
Sorrow appeared on the porch to shoo them inside, but Laura had her eye on the driver, still in the van, fiddling with his phone. It’d been years since she’d seen him, but that profile was instantly recognizable—her old pal, Dan Harper. Finally a door slammed, and he walked around the van to her, beaming. “Hey, stranger. ”
She felt the grin pop back onto her face, bigger than ever. “Danny, I can’t believe it. ” They’d once moved in the same San Francisco circles but had lost touch after he moved to Los Angeles.