New York Nights: Shaken and Stirred. Kathleen O'Reilly
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didn’t interrupt often.
Gabe passed the deck to Cain, who shuffled and then dealt Gabe a pair of eights, an ace, a two and a five.
Sean looked at his cards, then grinned. He slid out two chips, and then glanced at Gabe. “So tell me about Tessa. How’s that working out for you? Getting laid?”
Gabe stared grimly at the cards, keeping his face devoid of anything but extreme interest in poker. “It’s Tessa, Sean. Get your mind out of the sewer.”
“Not sure if I could handle a woman staring over my shoulder. Got to crimp a man’s style—assuming he has a style, of course.”
Gabe shot him a bite-me look, and Cain stacked his chips into two neat piles. “Are you two going to fight? Because if you are, I want to know so I can keep my money separate.”
“They won’t fight,” answered Daniel.
“I could,” snapped Gabe. “Two years ago, you were down, begging for mercy—remember?”
Cain laughed. “Yes, Gabe, we all remember.”
“Go ahead, laugh away. I’m the baby here, and I’ll take my victories where they come.”
Sean grunted, matching Cain’s raise and upping it by another ten. Somebody had some sweet cards. “The only reason I let you get that punch in is because Anna Del Toro was watching, and I felt sorry for you in front of your girl. You are my baby brother.”
“So how are you and Tessa getting along?” asked Daniel, casually upping Sean’s bet with a rare smile.
“She’s usually not here,” Gabe said, looking with more doubt at his pair of eights. If Daniel was actually smiling, he was holding something serious.
Cain snickered. “Hard for a man to win a bar pool if you two are never in the same room.”
Sean took two cards and didn’t try to hide the gleam in his eyes. “Gabe’s not getting any. He’s too tense. Real shame, too. If you thought about anything but the bar, you’d be a lot happier. Balance. That’s what you need. That, and one good night of ball-blasting sex. You’re not that bad-looking, and if you worked at it, you’d have women falling all over you. And, by the way, I’ve got my money on day thirty-one, so if you want to do something really nice for your big brother, arrange a nice romantic dinner for her and maybe a bubble bath.”
Gabe rubbed his thumb against the corner of his ace, seriously contemplating the idea of a romantic dinner and a bubble bath with Tessa. It actually wasn’t a dumb thought: lathering her up with suds, soaping up the sleek back, the tight thighs.
“Hello? Gabe?” Sean interrupted the momentary fantasy and then shot Daniel a knowing look. “Told you he was suffering. The only person who’s going to win the bet is Tessa.”
Cain’s mouth edged into a small smile. “Tried and struck out?” he asked—and this was from Cain, who usually sided with Gabe. “Sucks, man.”
Gabe glared at the two of hearts, trying to will it into another, more worthy card. For instance, another ace. “Contrary to my other, more lecherous brother, I do have a moral conscience.”
Sean leaned back in his chair and laughed. “It’s a right guaranteed in the Constitution. Life, liberty and the pursuit of—”
“Can we talk about something else?” interrupted Gabe. “Like, for instance, the building permit? Did you find out anything more?”
“Amanda’s out of the office until Tuesday next, and I can’t get a straight answer out of the old man that’s manning the desk while she’s gone.”
“But there’s no problem with my license, right?”
Sean cracked his knuckles. “Nothing I can’t handle, Gabe. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Does that mean you’ll help me with the work on the expansion while I’m waiting on the permit?”
“No,” said Sean, completely without guilt. “But I will help you hire a new bartender to fill said space.”
Gabe looked at Daniel in frustration, and Daniel shrugged. No help there. “I’m folding,” Gabe announced because he wasn’t getting anywhere in cards or logic. Better to quit while he was ahead.
They played in silence until it was nearly midnight, and Gabe kept a close eye on the clock. Tessa would be closing up with Lindy soon, and Gabe wanted to know if her apartment hunting had been successful. Besides that, he didn’t feel right about her taking the subway home alone. Tessa would probably hit him if she knew what he was thinking, but Sean was right about one thing: Gabe had a Lancelot complex. And if there was ever a damsel in distress, it was Tessa.
He looked around the table, noticing the pile of money that was now sitting in front of Cain. All right, so he hadn’t made his quota. He’d make up for it next week. Then he scrunched up his pain and rubbed two fingers over his temple.
“Can’t handle losing?” asked Cain.
“I’ve been fighting a headache all day. Probably hay fever or something. Listen, I hate to fold up early, but, hell, my head is about to explode.”
Gabe gathered up the cards, and Daniel handled the financials. In the end, Gabe was ahead by twenty. Not a bad night’s work.
“Same time next week?” asked Cain, pocketing two hundred with a satisfied smile.
“At my place,” Sean spoke up.
“Right,” agreed Gabe, keeping his head low and headache-looking.
“Why don’t you lie down?” suggested Sean. “We know the way out.”
Gabe felt a momentary pang of guilt because Sean did actually look concerned, but this was for a good cause. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want to make sure that a helpless female got home safely? After all, the streets of New York could be really mean—assuming that you didn’t count the FBI reports that said that New York was the safest big city on the planet. But Gabe wasn’t a big one for trusting the government stats. Governments lied, and then where would Tessa be? Walking alone on the mean streets of Manhattan.
He managed a weak smile, and then they were gone. Gabe waited another five minutes and then pulled on his boots. Time to get Tessa home.
Gabe remembered the moments in the theater this afternoon, the taste of her neck, the curve of her bare ass and the exquisite cock-raising feeling of being encased in everything that was perfect.
Yeah, this roommate thing wasn’t bad at all.
THE NIGHT WASN’T A total loss. Tessa had made over a hundred in tips, and once she had gotten over the initial melancholy of her decision to set up Marisa with Gabe, a peace had come over her. In fact, even Lindy noticed her new attitude when they were cleaning up.
She popped the ice cream into the bar freezer and then stared pointedly at Tessa. “Why are you so pale? Are you getting sick or something?”
“I’m not pale, I feel calm. Collected. I’ve got a new take-charge attitude, a plan to get into my own place.”
“You still look pale,” repeated Lindy, shaking her head, and Tessa could feel the melancholy returning.
“To the unknowing eye, perhaps.”
With Lindy still looking doubtful, Tessa visualized coming into her perfect apartment surrounded by successful, financially independent colleagues who had made their way in life. As opposed to the pitiful imagery of Tessa dropping out of school, shacking up with Gabe for a couple of years. And then he’d decide he needed a new, improved model, probably someone who had a viable career, and then Tessa would be pushing thirty and still trying to support herself on a bartender’s tips. Hudson Towers was looking better and better by the minute.
“So what’s the new take-charge attitude from?”
“Taking