Paradise Lost (Private 9)

"Poker is the most competitive," Noelle put in. "Every year the girls try to beat the boys. It's like an all-out war."

"Really? Poker's my game," I said. "I used to play with my brother and his friends."

"Nice. We have a ringer," Noelle said, lifting her glass.

"Omigod, can you teach me?" Tiffany asked, leaning forward in her seat and placing her feet on the floor. "I totally suck."

"Sure," I said. "Do you think your dad keeps cards on the plane?" I asked Noelle.

She was already out of her seat. "Are you kidding? He and his cronies take this jet all over the world. How do you think Daddy won the house in Majorca? He bluffed on a pair of sixes at fifty thousand feet."

Tiffany laughed as Noelle put her hand on my headrest. "Why don't you come with? I'll introduce you."

I bit my lip. Noelle's father was still on the phone and was obviously tense. Probably doing some big business deal. Hardly seemed like a prime time for an intro, but who was I to judge?

24

"Okay." I unhooked my seat belt and followed Noelle toward the back of the plane. Her father glanced over his shoulder, saw us coming, and blinked. I heard him say something into the phone about calling back, and then he flipped it shut. He stood up as we approached and tugged on the waistband of his perfectly cut trousers. He had shed his suit jacket and wore a crisp white shirt, dark-blue suspenders, and a dark-blue-and-red tie, which was still tightly knotted. He had to be at least six foot four, with broad shoulders--definitely an athlete. His brown hair was cropped close to his head in a military Caesar, and he did not look old enough to be Noelle's father. Hot uncle, maybe, but not her father.

He looked at me for a long moment before smiling at Noelle, which gave me the uncomfortable sensation that he felt I was in the way.

"Pumpkin," he said, giving Noelle a kiss.

"Daddy," she said. "You've been on the phone for so long; I haven't had a chance to introduce you to my friend."

Her tone was admonishing, and his reaction was chagrined. Was there no one Noelle couldn't intimidate?

"Daddy, this is Reed Brennan. Reed, this is Wallace Lange," Noelle said proudly.

"Reed." He cleared his throat and nodded.

"Hello," I said. There was a long moment of silence. Noelle looked at her father as if she were expecting him to say or do something.

I tried again. "Thank you so much for inviting me on vacation. It's incredibly generous of you."

25

"Oh, you're welcome." Then his phone vibrated on the table, and he glanced at it distractedly.

"Excuse me," he said gruffly, grabbing for the phone. "Hang on," he said into the receiver. He held the phone to his chest and looked at Noelle. "I don't really have time for social hour right now, Noelle," he said pointe

dly.

Noelle rolled her eyes. "Do you have a deck of cards?"

"In the cabinet."

He sat down, turned away, and began talking into the phone. Noelle stared at him for a moment, annoyed, before moving on.

"Sorry. He gets crabby when he's in business mode," she said, yanking open the cabinet. Inside were a few decks of cards, a full set of poker chips, and a folded felt poker tabletop. "Always be prepared," she said wryly. She pulled out the tabletop and chips and handed them over. We were about to return to our seats when her phone beeped. She pulled it from the pocket of her dress and rolled her eyes again.

"Dash."

My throat went dry. "He called?"

"No. Texted, the wuss," she said. "He wants to know if it's okay with me if he comes down this year. I don't know why he would, since his parents are going to be in Europe with his aunt's family until Christmas."

Um, maybe because he wants to be with you? I thought but didn't say.