High Stakes Read Online Free Page A

Rizzuto. Brother of Frank Rizzuto.”
    He looks at the ridiculously small notepad in his hands and nods. His eyes rove over Maria and I. Boulder-man gives me a small smile as he backs up and opens the door for us.
    It’s a massive suite with tables and tables of hors d’oeuvres. I can see two rooms in the suite, and the one we’re currently standing in is packed with men in suits and women in cocktail dresses. Everyone is much older than us, but that doesn’t stop Maria from bouncing to the nearest table.
    “Look!”
    It’s a kleptomaniac’s paradise. There’s a three-level tier filled with chocolate truffles and petit fours. I want to scoop it all into my purse. She grabs a few and bites into one of them, making an ecstatic moan. There’s little baked tarts, smoked salmon, glasses and glasses of champagne. A man standing in front of a white booth makes drinks. Around all of the tables laden with food are guards standing around the perimeter. A tiny sting of fear bites at my skin as I look at them. There’s something about them that’s downright ominous.
    Don’t steal anything.
    My palms sweaty, I lean my neck and gaze into the next room, which is significantly quieter. There must be at least five felt tables set up. Old men that I recognize as dealers are settled behind them, except for one. In this room, a group of men smoke and drink as they occasionally look back into the room. The poker tables draw me in, but I feel another tiny prick of fear as I watch them. There are small heaps of chips on the tables, and I feel a desperate pull to snatch one and add it to my pile of memorabilia. Another trinket, another trophy.
    “It’s five-thousand just to sit in,” Jackie hisses in my ear.
    I almost jump at the sound of his voice. I’ve no desire for the drinks and food; I just want to play poker. Or at least watch them play. Most of them are much older than me, and they occasionally glance my way as if wondering why I’m staring at them.
    One of them, a man whose skin hangs off his neck, looks at me. “Come inside, sweetheart. Don’t be shy.”
    I step into the room gingerly, Jackie hanging back to say hello to his brother. Maria joins me at my elbow and I breathe a sigh of relief. The old man’s smile is so encouraging, so friendly, that I feel a little more confident and I graze my hands over the felt.
    “What are you doing in here?” Maria whispers. Like me, she feels the need to keep quiet.
    I shrug. “I like poker. That’s why I came. I’m going to watch their games. You can go back if you like.”
    I’m hoping that she doesn’t, because I feel a bit uneasy, but she says that she’s going to mingle for a little bit. I swallow hard when her warmth disappears from my side, but the men in the middle of the room aren’t really paying attention to me. I catch snippets of their conversation.
    “I don’t fucking understand, what happened? Cesare said there would be five dealers.”
    Jackie has returned with a glass of champagne for me, for which I’m immensely grateful. I tip my head back and try not to ruin my makeup as I down half of the bubbly liquid.
    Closer and closer. I’m migrating towards the group of men in the middle. I’m looking at the neatly set up chips and cards, itching to get my hands on them.
    Don’t!
    “One of them called in sick.”
    “Well, what the fuck are we going to do now? I invested a lot of money in this thing.”
    They’re missing a dealer? I can deal. It’s easy.
    I’m about to speak up, but something about them seems utterly forbidding. I just want to hang in the background and watch.
    “We have players coming in from Jersey. I can’t just tell them that we fucked up.”
    “Adriana can deal.” Jackie’s loud voice booms out.
    I’m mortified as all of them turn around to stare at us like we’re a bunch of idiots. Holy shit. My heart thumps against my chest as they glare at the source of the interruption.
    “Who the fuck are you?”
    The voice, coming from