The Billionaire's Gamble

Next to me, a woman in a high pony tail sits down and immediately gives me a side-eye. What, do I just look like I don’t belong up here? It isn’t until I glimpse her phone screen that I see something that explains her reaction. Could it be that fast? Pulling out my cellphone, I open the internet browser.

All over the front page is a photo of me and Nolan. I’m disheveled in it, panic in my eyes since I’d been rushing for my flight. I check another news site, and another. The headlines ran an array of things:

Lion Sleeps with Mystery Woman!

Is Nolan Coldwater a Playboy?

Did She Blackmail Him, or Did He Pay Her?

I can’t help it—I start to laugh. The lady next to looks over again, wary this time. Covering my mouth, I muffle the sound. I’m not upset by the headlines, those are pure insanity and Nolan did warn me it would happen. I do wish the photo of me was nicer, though. It’s not exactly how I pictured looking when I got my fifteen minutes of fame.

My phone buzzes. The plane hasn’t told us to put them away yet, so I answer the call. “Hello?”

“Dani!” my sister, Kelly, screams. “Oh my god what did you do?”

I sit up, shifting the phone to my other ear. When I do, something moves in my bra. It’s been feeling off since this morning, but I’d ignored it. “Kelly,” I say, half-laughing. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You slept with a billionaire!”

Okay, now I was giggling. Ugh, this damn bra. Reaching back, hoping no one sees, I fiddle with the strap. Finally—there. My fingers find a hard object that I know doesn’t belong anywhere near my breasts.

What the hell?

“Dani,” my sister hisses. “Are you listening to me? I said go on vacation, have fun, not cause a scandal!”

I’m barely listening. In my fingers I hold up a circular piece of plastic. A poker chip? Not only a poker chip, a one-thousand-dollar poker chip. Turning it over, my heart kicks up a notch. I had wondered if somehow that this was an accident…not actually from Nolan. But the back of the chip vanishes every doubt I have this is from Nolan. On the back is some writing in black marker.

A phone number. His phone number. The laughter bubbles up in me again and I can’t contain it.

“Dani? Dani, why are you giggling?” My sister sounds exasperated.

Closing my fingers around the chip, I grin as wide as I can, hoping she’ll hear it in my voice. “Because I’m a lucky woman.”

6

Dani

I haven’t travelled a lot, but every time I do, I love the feeling of coming home. A certain sense of welcome and belonging envelops me as the plane lands in South Carolina. We’re informed that the local weather is a balmy seventy-five degrees and sunny—perfect weather for May. Of course she doesn’t mention the humidity so I’m anticipating feeling like I’m stepping into a pool the minute I get outside.

This airport is much smaller than the hectic craze in Vegas, and it seems like no time at all before I’m heading towards the baggage claim, keeping an eye out for Kelly. It’s impossible to miss her—my sister is the epitome of a southern belle. Her smile is wide, her curls are blonde, and even standing in the middle of an airport she looks like she stepped out of a magazine ad. We couldn’t be more different. She’s waiting next to the baggage conveyor with my flight’s luggage, flipping through her phone. If I know her at all, she’s reading the latest story on Nolan and me, seeing what new insights the gossip sites have.

During most of the year my sister is a school teacher—a good one too. She loves her students like they’re her own, and she always ends up being their favorite. She directs the school plays and comes up with field trips I wish I had had in my day as a student. But during the summer, my sister is part groupie, part hippie. She spends most of her time hooked on the latest pop culture story and the other half making jewelry that she always hopes to sell. She probably knew who Nolan Coldwater was long before I did.

I played with that little poker chip for the entire flight, thinking about the pros and cons of dialing that number. I would love to see him again. He’s interesting and kind, and ridiculously fucking sexy. But doesn’t what happens in Vegas have to stay there? I’m sure Nolan didn’t go to Vegas looking to find a new girlfriend, and I certainly didn’t go looking for anyone in particular. No, it’s better if we let that night be the amazing memory it is and let the gossip columnists forget all about the woman caught inside Nolan Coldwater’s Las Vegas hotel room.