Page 34 of Ace of Hearts

Rose

June

Las Vegas, USA

The more time passes, the harder it is for me to resist.

The lure of gambling is too strong. I can tell I still haven’t recovered enough to get away with tempting fate, so I limit myself to playing only with Levi, and never for money.

Predictably, that isn’t enough for me. When I’m not painting, I spend my time watching people play and wondering what choices I’d have made in their place.

It’s driving me crazy. Luckily there are always people with me, which stops me giving in to temptation.

Li Mei and Lucky have essentially moved into our suite.

Now that I know the truth, they spend all their time with us, which means I’ve had to give them my room . .. and start sleeping in Levi’s bed.

Not that we’ve done anything in it. Yet.

“How did you two meet?” I ask Li Mei when we’re alone at the bar.

I don’t even know what time it is. The truth is, spending all my time in the hotel, immersed in the shadowy, frenetic atmosphere of the tournament, makes me lose all sense of time. That’s one of the dangers of a casino: once you’re there, you never have to leave.

“Levi, you mean? It wasn’t long after I got out of prison,” she tells me, twirling the paper umbrella in her cocktail.

“In a bar in Shanghai. I’d come for a job interview, but I ended up arguing with the boss.

He wasn’t happy when he discovered my prison record, naturally.

Levi saw what happened, and as I was leaving, he came over and asked if I was looking for a job. ”

I laugh. He makes a habit of this, apparently. Does he think he’s some kind of good Samaritan?

“I was lucky.” Li Mei smiles. “I think he was touched by my story because of what happened to his mother. There’s a part of me that’s always wondered if he helped me because he blames himself and wanted to make amends.”

Which he couldn’t do with his mother. Because he does blame himself; of course he does. How could he not? I ask Li Mei what kind of job he offered her.

“He’d opened up another Rasputin in China and asked me if I’d manage it.”

I’m amazed.

“Seriously? He didn’t even know you!”

“God only knows why he trusted me. But Levi never does anything without a reason. The fact that we’re so close now is proof of that.”

It’s true. Levi has the knack of surrounding himself with good people. I start to wonder if that’s because he likes them, or because they’re useful to him.

“What about your family?” I ask.

She makes a funny face and looks away.

“I have an older brother. He’s the only one I still speak to.

My parents ... they never got over the shame I brought them.

I have only myself to blame. I shouldn’t have burgled a luxury home with my friends .

.. especially since I only did it so I could buy clothes. My mother thinks I’m a kleptomaniac.”

She’s right; that wasn’t a good idea. I ask her if she is a kleptomaniac, and she laughs before thinking for a moment.

“Who knows?”

I burst out laughing too. What a team we make! I get the feeling Lucky is the most stable member of our group. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but it’s not a good sign.

“Also, I still can’t believe you and Lucky used to be an item. Tell me all—I need to know how, where, and mainly why .”

“Tell me about it,” she sighs, hiding her face in her hands. “In my defense, he’s very different from the image he projects in public. It’s just an act, like mine. In fact, he’s ... sweet. Romantic. Kind. Funny. He won me over.”

“Did it last long?”

“Four months.”

“That’s not long. What happened?”

She rolls her eyes, looking exasperated.

“He’s too young! Too sensitive too. It’s awful.

I’m the kind of person who’s never bothered too much by anything, who never stops in one place for long.

Lucky is the exact opposite: he cries every time he watches Titanic ; he’s incapable of saying no; he’s a coward; and he’s obsessed with the idea of getting married and living happily ever after. I freaked out!”

I’m amazed. Didn’t he say he was an escort? Li Mei must guess what I’m thinking, because she explains.

“His parents fell in love at first sight. Forty years of marriage. He wants to do the same ... but he couldn’t pay back his student debts.

Hence the escort job. He never stopped, except when we were together.

He likes it. He’s not ashamed, and he gets on with his clients.

I’m almost certain he thinks one of them might turn out to be the love of his life, which just proves what a dope he is. ”

“Who knows? It could happen! So ... there’s no chance it could ever work out between the two of you?”

She’s about to say no when she stops short, narrows her eyes, and looks at me suspiciously.

“Why? Are you interested?”

Her tone has changed. It’s colder now, more brusque. I suppress a smile. Whatever she says, she’s still crazy about him.

“Not at all. I have enough on my plate already ...”

She relaxes, then laughs to herself.

“You can say that again. Do you like Levi?”

No. Yes. I don’t know. Physically, yes definitely. I like the kind of person he is, too, but I’m not romantically interested. He’s become a good friend. I like being with him. That’s all it is. Isn’t it?

An image flashes into my mind: Levi’s hair between my thighs, imprisoned in my fingers as they curl with pleasure. I remember the wave of emotion I felt as I came against his mouth.

I take too long to reply, which makes Li Mei smile. I pout, blushing, and mutter my answer.

“Oh, he’s OK.”

When I get back to the suite, Levi’s there waiting for me, lying on the sofa with his arm over his eyes.

“Where were you?” he asks casually.

“Having a drink with Li Mei. Are your eyes hurting?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Eventually, he sits upright, his legs apart and his elbows resting on his knees. I sit in the armchair opposite him, and he looks straight into my eyes. I’m surprised by how pale his face is. He doesn’t look right.

“I’m fine,” he lies. “I was thinking.”

“What about?”

“Tito.”

I pray he won’t notice how my body tenses at the name. My father called me earlier this morning for an update, but I lied to him so he wouldn’t realize I’ve had a change of heart. I even managed to give him a few false leads.

I change the subject as naturally as I can. “You should eat something.”

His intense gaze lowers slowly and slides purposefully over my body ... coming to a stop between my thighs. Oh Jesus .

I close my legs and answer his look, raising an eyebrow. “In your dreams.”

He flashes me an arrogant half smile. I get up and head into the kitchen to survey the contents of the fridge. Some fresh pasta and cutlets that I bought earlier, which I put on the counter. That’ll do nicely.

“What are you doing?” Levi asks in a tired voice, coming into the kitchen after me.

“Making dinner. On the menu tonight: chicken piccata with lemon and fettuccine. A family specialty—watch and learn.”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He sits on a stool and watches as I coat the cutlets with flour.

“Tell me about your family,” he says, crossing his arms.

I’d rather not. I want to avoid the subject, fearing I’ll let something slip. I also want to avoid telling him too many lies. He might get suspicious, though, if I refuse.

“My mother is the purest person I’ve ever met,” I say, warming the olive oil.

“She just had the bad luck to fall for the wrong guy when she was very young ... She got pregnant—with me. Their two families were very conservative, so there was no way they could break up at that point, and abortion was out of the question. My father took responsibility and asked her to marry him.”

I sense Levi’s scrutinizing gaze on me. He asks if they’re still in love, and I shake my head.

“My father cheated on my mother for years. He had a daughter from that relationship ... but I’ve never met her. My mother finally asked for a divorce.”

“I see. I’m sorry.”

I look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

“And you?” he asks. “What about you? Are you close to your father?”

That’s the million-dollar question ... I don’t even know myself. I peel and chop the shallots sadly.

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to make him love me. My old psychoanalyst used to say that sometimes you have to stop trying and just ... make your peace.”

Levi gives me a hard look that’s impossible to decipher. Finally, he nods.

“Your psychoanalyst is right.”

“You say that, but look at you. You’ve spent ten years of your life obsessed with a guy who betrayed your father. When are you going to make your peace?”

His jaw clenches, and there’s a glint in his eyes as he answers, in a voice trembling with anger.

“I have no pity for traitors. I can’t stand liars. And hypocrites who pretend to be your friend and then stab you in the back are even worse.”

Oh . I suppress a shiver of horror. Guilt worms its way into my heart, but I ignore it. I can blame myself all I like; what’s done is done, and I can’t turn the clock back.

When Levi finds out the truth ... I hope I’ll be far away.

“Luckily, I have supportive people around me,” he adds suddenly, his eyes less hard. “I trust you as much as I trust Thomas and the others, Rose. You’re one of us.”

I swallow, my throat tight. If I weren’t so certain he didn’t know, I’d swear he was doing this on purpose. I smile at him uneasily.

“So I’m part of the gang of crazies with warped priorities? Great. We should make badges ... or better yet, personalized T-shirts! Have we even got our own battle cry?”

“We’re friends, not a bowling team.”

I smile. He finally relaxes and offers to help me cook. I show him what to do, and soon the room is full of the scent of Italian cooking. Once it’s ready, he sprinkles parsley on the chicken while I add a few slices of lemon.

“Thank you for this,” he says, ready to dig in.

“Wait! It’s sacrilege to forget to put the sauce on the pasta.”

Levi looks surprised at the passion in my voice. He asks me if the sauce is as important as all that. I pour sauce onto his pasta before replying.

“In Italy, pasta can reflect different passions. There’s a dish called pasta del cornuto , which means ‘cuckold’s pasta.’ It’s pasta without sauce. It’s got that name because sauce is always prepared at the same time as the pasta, and doing that takes time.”

“OK . . .”

“In cuckold’s pasta, there’s only a bit of butter and pepper. Maybe a little cheese but definitely no sauce. The idea being, if the woman hasn’t prepared the sauce, what has she been doing, and with whom?” I ask mysteriously.

He gets the idea because he smiles as he takes his first mouthful, then puts his hand on his heart.

“My wonderful fiancée is faithful to me, then. What a relief.”

“You should thank your lucky stars.”

We eat in silence. I think back to our conversation—about Tito, about betrayal, and about our group of friends.

Each one of us has been involved in dodgy, even illegal, activities.

I know Levi’s family is Orthodox, like mine, so I pluck up the courage to ask my question, feeling sure he’ll understand.

“Do you think you’ll go to hell?”

“I certainly hope so. I have a few questions for Oscar Wilde. What about you?”

“It’s a serious question.”

He looks up from his almost empty plate in surprise, but this question has been worrying me more and more. Levi finishes his mouthful and wipes his mouth before replying, with complete seriousness.

“I killed my father, Rose. Yes, I think I’ll go to hell.”

OK, so it was a stupid question. I think I wanted him to say something reassuring, idiot that I am.

“And does that scare you?”

He takes his time to reply, looking sad, as though he’s already spent too much time thinking about this.

“No,” he says eventually, staring into space. “The more frightening thing would be if it didn’t scare me. Because if it didn’t, how could I live an honest life?”