The Game (Wagered Hearts Series, #3)(5)

Her eyes lit up and I could see the wheels turning in her head already. I hated to be the one to disappoint her, but there was no point in letting her get herself all worked up. Ryan Marsden was definitely taken, and happily so. He and Mel Abelgard were madly in love, and I wouldn't have been surprised if they were already engaged.

"He's taken," I said. It was too bad, really, because he would have been perfect.

"Figures," she said dejectedly. "He wouldn't happen to have any friends just like him, would he?" she added, almost jokingly.

I shot upright in my seat and eyed her excitedly. Of course! Why hadn't I thought of him sooner? He would be perfect, even better than Ryan. A slow smile spread across my face, the first one since I'd arrived at the office.

"As a matter of fact, he does."





Chapter 2: Rob



I cracked open a bleary eye, blinking against the ghastly early morning sunlight streaming through the window. The effort proved to be too much and I closed it again. My head throbbed and my mouth felt like sandpaper, dry and disgusting. I pinched the bridge of my nose, hoping to somehow ease the freight train that was rumbling in my brain, as I vowed never to drink another drop of alcohol again. I moaned slightly as I turned to my side, and suddenly I felt something warm brush up against my shoulder.

"Mmm," I heard a soft voice mumble behind me. A second later, I felt a smooth arm drape over me. I looked down at a petite, well manicured hand lying across my hip. I peeked under the covers and was unsurprised to find that we were both completely naked.

I tried to piece together the events of last night, but the effort proved to be too taxing. Instead, I turned over to get a better look at the lady currently sharing my bed. I was pleasantly surprised to see that she was quite attractive. No beer goggles last night. She fluttered her eyes open and smiled at me lazily.

"You were magnificent last night," she said.

I nearly returned the compliment, even though I really couldn't remember much of last night. But before I could get the words out, the doors to my room were flung open. I shot up in bed, grimacing as my brain rattled against the inside of my head.

All I could see was a blur of pastel pinks and greens, and smell that familiar scent of vanilla and lavender. I groaned out loud and sunk back down to my pillow, closing my eyes.

"There you are," the crisp voice of my mother spoke to me from the foot of my bed. Even without looking at her, I could already picture the pinched expression on her face. "I didn't know you'd be here, Alicia," she added.

At her words, I remembered that I wasn't alone. I looked over to see the lady in question, Alicia, mumble a faint greeting to my mother. She remained crouched low with the blanket pulled up high on her chest. She looked mortified, and I wondered how in the world my mother knew her when I didn't even know her name.

"I have to speak with you, Robert," she said.

"I'm listening."

"In private," she said, glaring at me. She then turned her gaze toward Alicia and smiled at her politely, but the hardness never left her eyes. "If you'll excuse us, my dear, I need to have a private word with my degenerate son."

"Yes, of course," Alicia said before scrambling off the bed. She pulled the sheet with her leaving me momentarily exposed. I snatched a pillow and covered myself, feeling a growing sense of irritation and embarrassment. My mother eyed me disapprovingly, but remained silent. We both waited for Alicia to get dressed and gone. When she had finally left, I turned toward my mother and folded my arms across my chest.

"Well?" I asked.

"Please take some time to cover yourself up, Robert," she said turning her back toward me. "I can't take you seriously like that."

I thought about refusing. After all, she was the one who barged into my bedroom. Let her stew in discomfort. But then I realized that I'd be equally as uncomfortable. Despite my anger and irritation, it was much too awkward to have a conversation with my mother covered only by a pillow. I got off the bed and slipped on my bathrobe.

"You can turn around now," I said, taking a seat on the bench by the bay windows.

My mother faced me and walked forward, scanning my room and the discarded clothes on the floor distastefully. "I suppose I'll have to find a new party planner for your father and my anniversary party," she said.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" I asked.

A look of annoyance crossed her face. "Alicia. The woman who just scurried out of your room half dressed."

"What does she have to do with anything?"

She looked at me disbelievingly but quickly schooled her features. "She was our party planner," she said.

"Oh." The memory of last night came rushing back to me--running into Alicia at my parent's townhouse, and later meeting up with her at Synergy.

"Really Robert, you disappoint me. How long can you live like this?" she began.

It was the same old refrain I'd heard for the past year. Ever since my cousin Roman had announced he was getting married, my mother had been like a woman on a mission. She'd been pressuring me to settle down as well, as if I would be so foolish as to follow in Roman's footsteps.

"As long as I'm still breathing," I said.

I blew out a weary sigh, but tried to keep my voice light and casual. I'd had this conversation so many times, it felt like I was reading a script. The lines had been etched into my memory. Now my mother would start in on how happy Roman was. And then she'd bring up the fact that my close friend, Ryan, had recently gotten engaged as well.