“Bran? You okay?” Finn’s hand squeezed his shoulder.
“Yeah.”
Steph spoke again. “Don’t worry. I’m well-aware this isn’t my world.”
He should’ve stopped them from leaving. No doubt Carina would say something to hurt Stephanie. He strained, trying to hear Carina’s reply.
“Me and Finn?” Steph answered with a question in her voice. “No, I’m not expecting that relationship will go anywhere. Not that I don’t think he’s handsome.”
Finn demanded Branson’s attention. “Come on, Bran. Lay your bet. Cole’s the shooter.”
Bran grabbed a handful of chips. “Put them on Don’t Pass. Cole’s an awful shooter.”
“You want to bet against him?” Finn asked. “Rather insulting.”
“Absolutely,” Bran confirmed. “He has dreadful luck. Cole even bets against himself.”
He heard Steph in his ear again. “I promise, you have nothing to worry about from me, Carina. Branson’s my boss, and nothing more. I work hard to make him happy because I need my job.”
It hurt to hear the words from her lips, though it wasn’t the first time. He had no false illusions about her feelings.
“Snake eyes—shooter dies,” yelled someone, likely the stickman.
“Ha! That was fast.” Finn chuckled.
Branson had won, but he was more interested in Steph’s conversation.
Stephanie spoke. “I admire your drive. Had to put my career on the back burner once Ellie was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis.”
“New shooter.” The stickman’s voice intruded.
“Leave it all on Don’t Pass,” Bran said, pushing his chips forward.
“Are you sure?” Finn asked.
“I’m sure,” Bran said, impatiently, trying to hear Steph’s conversation.
“Oh, no! That’s terrible,” Steph exclaimed. “No, I won’t tell a soul.” Then her voice dipped low. “Forgot this was on. So sorry.”
His receiver went quiet.
“Yes!” Finn shouted, his fist pounding Bran’s arm. “We won again. You’re hot, tonight, Branson. Think I’ll just copy your bets.”
“Your loss. I’ll bet Pass.” Bran strained to hear Stephanie again, but his ears rang with silence.
“Where did the women go?” he asked Finn.
“Uhmm,” Finn’s voice undulated, apparently a result of his head turning as he scanned the massive room. “I don’t see ’em. But they were headed toward the front, where all the slot machines are. Do you want me to fetch Carina for you?”
What could he say? If he mentioned wanting Stephanie back, Finn would tease him without mercy.
A new shooter rolled a four on the come-out.
“No, I don’t need her. Fifty thousand on the odds,” said Branson.
“Are you crazy?” Finn’s voice went up an octave. “Are you trying to lose everything early, so you can go upstairs? It’s not happening, buddy. This trip is about spending time together, so you’re staying to the end.”
Finn had hit the nail on the head, but Bran only grunted in reply. No use arguing or trying to explain his sudden discontent.