Gambler's Woman (8 page)
plants cascaded from ceiling hangers and filled every available corner.
Blinds with elegantly thin slats could be rolled down to protect the
interior from summer-afternoon heat
Tired and knowing she had a busy day ahead of her in the morning,
Alyssa automatically checked locks and lights and then made her way
into the bedroom. Tomorrow she would take her money down to the bank,
and tomorrow evening she would call the hotel in Las Vegas and explain
to Jordan why she would be a day late arriving.
Her own ready acceptance of the affair into which she had plunged so
heedlessly still left her feeling strangely out of tune with herself.
But as she crawled into bed that night, Alyssa knew she had every
intention of being on the Saturday-morning plane to Vegas. The lure of
Jordan Kyle was more than she could withstand. Sleep that night brought
visions of a golden-eyed man with wonderfully sensitive hands, and
Alyssa gave herself up to the dream as she had given herself up to the
man.
* * *
The world she chose to think of as "real" resumed with an unappealing
rush the next day as Alyssa walked into her office and found Hugh Davis
using her personal hotpot to heat water for his morning coffee. It
wasn't that Alyssa was at all selfish with the hotpot. She
wasn't. She just didn't particularly
care for Hugh Davis. That he was the only other contender for the
promotion she was seeking made
her feel guilty for not liking him, however, and she silently gritted
her teeth and smiled.
"Good morning, Hugh. Is the office pot broken again?" She nonchalantly
stuffed the purse containing
the thousand dollars into the lowest drawer of her desk, hoping she
wasn't drawing undue attention to it, and slipped into her seat The
neat summer-weight suit in honey beige that she wore accented not only
her slendemess but also her professional image. Her auburn hair was
smoothed away from her face and held with two tortoise-shell clips
behind her ears. She looked crisp and businesslike, the mysterious side
of her that she took to Las Vegas well hidden.
Hugh Davis swung around slowly, pouring hot water into his cup as he
turned to favor her with one of
his sexiest smiles. At least, Alyssa thought, he obviously considered
it sexy. For her part, she found it weak and superficial, just as she
found the man. His pretty blonde wife, Cari, was welcome to him.
Unfortunately for her sake, Alyssa wasn't too sure how much of him Cari
actually got Hugh Davis, according to the latest office gossip, was
having an affair. No one knew with whom. With his tawny California
handsomeness, Hugh no doubt found it relatively easy to attract women.
He could be charming, had style and was definitely upwardly mobile. The
combination was a natural winner in California.
"Morning, Alyssa. Nope, the office pot's not broken, but you know it
never really boils the water properly, just gets it hot I like it
boiling for tea. I knew you wouldn't mind if I borrowed yours. How
was your weekend?"
Alyssa hoped her involuntary flinch didn't show. She was going to have
to get used to the automatic Monday morning question. Everyone inquired
politely after everyone else's weekend
"Just fine," she returned brightly. "How about yours?"
"Oh, fine, fine. Went sailing," Hugh replied absently, setting down the
pot Alyssa had begun to distrust
the speculative look in his eye that seemed to appear there more and
more frequently when he happened to glance in her direction. She hoped
he wasn't considering the prospect of making a pass at her.
"McGregor's going to want the final results of that statistical
analysis we did for the new generation of transistors we tested last
week. The client is expecting the results tomorrow," Alyssa reminded
him in
an effort to keep the conversation on a business footing.
"The data's ready to go into the computer. We should have it run by
this afternoon." Hugh shrugged. "What time do you want to go over the
results with me?"
Alyssa stifled a sigh and tapped her pencil impatiently on her desk.
There was nothing she could do to avoid the consultation, of course.
They had worked on the project together, and they would have to package
the final report together. "How about three o'clock?"
"Sure. Unless you'd rather do it this evening after work?" he offered
with an ingratiating smile that thoroughly annoyed her.
"I prefer to get my work done during working hours," she returned
sweetly.
"Ah, but budding managerial talent should make it dear to the boss that
overtime is accepted, even welcomed. Managing isn't supposed to be a
nine-to-five job, remember," he taunted lightly.
"I'll leave it to you to pursue that theory. I happen to believe that
one of the signs of good management
is getting the work done on time without having to put in extensive
overtime!"
"Well, we'll just have to see which of us is taking the right tack for
impressing McGregor, won't we?" Hugh drawled, sauntering toward the
door. "Don't worry, Alyssa, when I get the promotion, I'll
remember your attitude toward working outside regular hours," he
promised kindly as he let himself
out of her office.
Alyssa frowned thoughtfully at the closed door. As usual, she couldn't
be sure if Hugh was only teasing or really up to something. The man
might be shallow and superficial in some ways, but there was no doubt
in her mind that he was quite devious. She wished she hadn't felt
obliged to invite him for Friday night
But if she had not invited Hugh and his wife, the rest of her office
friends would wonder if she was deliberately excluding them because of
the competition for the promotion. Ah, the complications of running her
real life, she thought with a half-humorous sigh. Deliberately, she
pulled the computer
printout on her desk toward her. Here was the true joy of her job, she
thought with satisfaction. She could lose herself in the beauty of the
math that awaited her.
She didn't emerge from the intricacy of the mathematical model she was
studying until noon, when,
with secret satisfaction, she clutched her purse tightly all the way to
the bank and deposited the
thousand dollars.
She saved the phone call to Las Vegas until that evening, after she had
eaten a light meal of quiche and salad accompanied by a glass of
chilled Chabiis. The thought of hearing Jordan's voice so soon brought
a smile to her lips as she dialed the hotel number.
The smile was gone a moment later as the front desk informed her that
Mr. Kyle was not in his room.
"May I take a message?" the polite voice on the other end inquired.
"No, that's all right I'll call back later." He was probably at dinner,
Alyssa decided, glancing at her watch. And after that he would hit the
tables. Actually, he probably didn't spend much time in his room at
all. If she didn't reach him when she tried later, she would have to
leave a message and let him call her.
Another attempt at nine o'clock also proved fruitless. She would try
once more before she went to bed, Alyssa decided. She'd rather not
leave a message if she could catch him in the room instead
But the call before bedtime proved fruitless, too. Jordan must be out
working. Well, she'd try again tomorrow evening.
Two hours later, when her phone did ring, it brought her out of a sound
sleep, but her head was already clearing as she picked up the receiver.
Perhaps Jordan had decided to phone her? Coming wide awake
at the thought, she answered eagerly.
"Hello?"
There was only a dead silence on the other end of the line.
Disgustedly, Alyssa hung up and unplugged the phone. The last thing she
wanted to be bothered with tonight was pranksters or obscene phone
callers! With the phone out of commission, the rest of the night passed
in blissful silence.
The next evening, she dialed the hotel and automatically asked for
Jordan's room by number.
"I'm sorry, our records show that Mr. Kyle has checked out of that
room, madam" was the polite response.
"Checked out!" Surely he hadn't left Las Vegas? A chill of genuine fear
went through her at the thought The idea of seeing Jordan Kyle again
next weekend had become the focal point of her days and nights.
Thoughts of the exciting fantasy waiting for her on the weekend made
everything around her brighter
and more enjoyable. It even made it possible to tolerate Hugh Davis!
Now the promise of the waiting illusion was being sliced to shreds, and
the sickening reaction Alyssa experienced in the pit of her
stomach told her how important that illusion had become.
Then a thought struck her just as the clerk was trying to say good-by.
"No, wait! Please, could you
check your guest list for Mr. Kyle's name? I realize he's checked out
of that particular room, but
there's a possibility he might have asked for another."
"Very well, madam. One moment please."
Alyssa chewed her lip anxiously during the long moment that ensued,
praying her hunch was correct. Jordan couldn't have left. He just could
not have left! He had to be there, waiting for her return. The
realization of how damp her palms were and how fast her heart was
beating was frightening. Until that moment, she hadn't fully
acknowledged to herself how important her affair with Jordan Kyle was.
What had happened to her? Not only had she become embroiled last
weekend in what she would normally have characterized as the most
tawdry of weekend arrangements, she was sitting there a
nervous wreck over the possibility that she would not be able to repeat
the arrangement next weekend!
"Hello? Yes, we do show Mr. Kyle as having moved to another room. If
you'll hold on, I'll connect you."
Alyssa swallowed, feeling dizzy from relief. "Thank you." The words
came out in a particularly heartfelt manner.
Again, however, there was no answer, and this time Alyssa decided to
try leaving a message. It would probably be easier for Jordan to get in
touch with her, anyway. Their current working hours were
making it too difficult to connect
"Would you please leave a message for Mr. Kyle saying that Alyssa
called and that she has remembered
a previous engagement on Friday night. She'll arrive Saturday
morning instead. He can call me at this number." Hurriedly, she rattled
off her Ventura phone number and hung up.
That should do the trick, she decided. Jordan would get her message and
call to find out what had happened. She would explain about Friday
night and tefl him how much she was looking forward to seeing him on
Saturday. With a nod of satisfaction, Alyssa headed for bed with a
biography of women mathematicians she had been reading.
When the phone rang an hour and a half later, she was still reading,
immersed in the story of Hypatia, a mathematical scholar in ancient
Greece. Instantly, the excitement began to flare in her veins as Alyssa
reached for the receiver.
It died down to utter disgust as she once again was treated to a silent
line. She was certain someone was listening on the other end, but not
about to give whoever it was any encouragement, she unplugged the
phone for the second night in a row. If this continued, she'd call the
phone company.
Determinedly, she went back to the biography of the brilliant Hypatia,
who had turned down numerous offers of marriage by claiming she was
already wedded to the truth. Being "wedded to the truth," however,
apparently had not stopped her from engaging in several love affairs.
Alyssa smiled to herself, reading between the lines as she looked back
across the centuries. Hypatia
had probably never married for the simple reason that she had never
found a man who understood and appreciated her both mentally and
physically and to whom she was equally attracted. Her scholarly work
was renowned even during her own time, and Alyssa was enraged to
discover that the poor woman had somehow become a political pawn
between two rival factions and had been set upon and murdered by a
street mob.
Just before she slipped off to sleep that night, Alyssa wondered what
Hypatia would have done if she'd been fortunate enough to encounter a
true soul mate during her adventurous lifetime. No doubt she would have
plunged headlong into an affair and, perhaps, even marriage. No,
perhaps she wouldn't have gone quite as far as marriage. The higher
levels of mathematics were undoubtedly demanding enough to preclude the
need for a mate. Even at the modest level at which she worked, Alyssa
could see how the study of mathematics could consume and involve the
truly brilliant
As good as she was at her own work and as intrigued as she could become
by math in general, Alyssa knew she lacked that kind of ability and
dedication. If the right soul mate came along for her, she might be
willing to consider marriage again. Assuming, of course, she reminded
herself dryly, that the soul mate was equally interested in the
institution.
Who was she kidding? Jordan Kyle had told her quite bluntly that men in
his profession did not acquire wives and families. He ought to know by
now. After all, he was nearly forty and had never married.
And there was no question that marriage to a professional gambler would
ruin her present career. On
that unhappy note, Alyssa fell asleep.
Jordan did not call back Wednesday evening. Alyssa waited until well
after ten o'clock, and then she could stand the suspense no longer.
Once more she dialed the Las Vegas hotel. She could only hope the desk
clerk wouldn't recognize her voice or that she would be blessed with a
different clerk. There was nothing more embarrassing than to have
someone think you were chasing a man!
"Yes, Miss Chandler. Mr. Kyle did pick up your message. We gave it to
him late last night. Will there
be anything else?" It was the same clerk, damn it!
"No, no, that will be all." Feeling very wretched, Alyssa hung up the
phone and sank back into the cushions of her white couch. Jordan had
picked up her message the night before. He hadn't been able to reach
her then because her phone was unplugged but why hadn't he called this
evening?
She was consumed with fresh fears and a host of new doubts. She knew so
little about the man. What if he were involved with someone else
tonight? Why should she think that a man who had lived so long in that
night world wouldn't play by its rules and customs? Why should Jordan
spend his evenings alone, waiting for her return?
Las Vegas was a city of beautiful women. They flocked there to become
showgirls, dancers, cocktail waitresses and hustlers. They came to
attach themselves to the high rollers who could give them exotic
presents and a sense of excitement Jordan Kyle would be a prize in that
world. And he must be aware
of that fact Winners were the ultimate heroes in Las Vegas,
By Thursday evening, Alyssa had convinced herself Jordan had found
someone else. She alternated between rage and despair.
Why didn't he call?
Her pride would
not let her dial the number of the hotel one more time.
On Friday morning, she told herself there was no way her pride would
let her take that Saturday flight
to Las Vegas, either. What a fool she had been!
The dinner party that evening was to be a buffet Her boss and most of
her coworkers had been invited. With her usual efficiency, Alyssa had
done much of the preparation on Thursday evening, throwing herself into
the project in an effort to erase her unhappiness over the ruined
weekend. Friday afternoon, she teft work a little early to take care of
the finishing touches.
Other books
Feral by
Sheri Whitefeather