Beauty and the Billionaire

The only thing my ranking had done was qualify me for another tournament. If I was going to leverage my playing into any sort of job, it was going to be a very steep uphill battle.

Is it worth it? I wondered again.

I loved it, that much I knew. The thrill of the game, the way it felt so natural and right. But maybe my father was right and it was only an interesting hobby. Everyone I met had a day job outside of the gaming world except Owen. And Anya.

"You look like you were hoping for laurels and medals. Not quite the big win you thought you were getting, huh?" Anya appeared behind me.

"At least I played honorably," I said.

"Please. You sound like such a newbie. The whole point of Dark Flag is that it mirrors the free will of real life. You don't lose points for doing something dishonorable. If it hadn't been a judged tournament challenge, you would have been dead," Anya said.

"So what did your play get you?" I asked. "It’s not like sponsors are lining up to endorse your style of playing."

"You forget, newbie, that I don't need sponsors to play. I've already made enough money to support myself for the rest of three life spans. I'm not some little girl getting taken care of by daddy."

"You don't know anything about me," I countered. My chest burned and I pressed hard against it, worried she might be right.

"Face it," Anya said, "you're not even in his league."

There, at least, she was wrong. I looked where she nodded across the ballroom and caught sight of Owen. My heart jumped, remembering the intimate tangle of our bodies. He might be a celebrity in the gaming world, a towering hero in Dark Flag, but wrapped in the blankets of my bed, he and I were on a level playing field. My mind flashed over the feel of his strong shoulders under my kneading fingers, the ragged catch of his breath as we came together. I had seen the ecstasy and relief on his face when we were together.

I left Anya standing with her smug smile and wove through the crowd to Owen. It did not matter that everything else felt like a mess, I knew the touch of our hands would feel right. I slipped next to him and reached for his fingers.

"Oh, Quinn. There you are," Owen said. He pulled back his hand. "The panel discussion has been pushed back an hour. I can't do lunch, but you can have this buffet voucher they gave me. Maybe we can meet up afterwards."

His eyes skimmed past me and found someone else he wanted to talk to more than me. I could not find a single word to say, so I turned around and left. I fought my way out of the crowded ballroom and through the Luxor's towering lobby. It felt like I could not breathe until I pushed through the front doors and walked out onto The Strip.

The day was heating up and most visitors jumped directly in cabs. I took off down the sidewalk, glad for the space and the movement. I needed to walk off the acidic feelings Anya's nasty comments and Owen's cold responses had stirred up inside me.

I told myself I was glad to be all on my own. I needed time to think. Though when my phone rang, I picked up immediately.

"Quinn? How are you, honey? Your lab partner just stopped by and told me you quit the nursing program. Where are you?" Darla asked.

"I'm in Vegas," I said. "I just ranked third in another Dark Flag tournament."

"That's awesome, but are you okay? You sound funny."

"I don't know. I just feel lost. I'm supposed to know exactly what I want to do with my life, but I can't even figure out what to do with the rest of this afternoon," I said.

Darla laughed. "You overthink everything. Don't worry, something will come up."

I did not have time to respond. There was a horrible screech and the smell of burnt rubber. Directly in front of me a car with Iowa license plates, full of tourists, slammed on its brakes before missing a right hand turn off The Strip. It barely missed hitting two people in the crosswalk. The car behind them swerved to avoid a collision and bumped up onto the sidewalk. The few pedestrians scattered and more than one person screamed as the car slammed into a light post.

"Oh my God. What was that?" Darla screamed into the phone.

"I'm fine, but there was an accident right in front of me. I have to go help." I hung up the phone and ran up the sidewalk.

I scanned the people on the sidewalk. Most had leapt out of the way. A few had fallen but had only bumps and bruises. One woman was crying and holding her ankle.

"I know first aid," I said, "Don't move. I'll be right back to help."

Steam pumped up from the black sedan's hood where it wrapped around the lamp post. Inside, the air bags were just deflating. I could see there was only one person in the car. The young man driving was thrown back in his seat, his eyes closed. I yanked on the

driver's side door and pounded on the glass when I saw it was locked.

"Sir? Sir? Can you unlock your door? You need help and I know first aid," I called through the glass.

His eyes fluttered and finally opened. With a bleary look, he fumbled for the lock switch and then closed his eyes again. As I pulled open the door, I heard his groan of pain.