Chapter One

Patrick

Does everybody hate their fucking job?

With a sigh that feels older than me, I push through the casino doors, the neon sign casting its blue-and-red glow across the room like an old friend I’m long tired of. This place has become more familiar than my own home, a backdrop of cigarette smoke, blinking lights, and the steady hum of broken dreams—all the things you’d expect in a place run by the mob for the sole purpose of washing money.

Sidestepping a particularly gnarly-looking stain, I make a mental note to tell Maxwell his staff is slacking while he’s gone. He should be back the day after tomorrow from his honeymoon. I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes at the thought. It’s been two years, and I’m still trying to adjust to the fact that that bastard is with my daughter. He’s lucky he’s my oldest friend. Even luckier that a blind man could see he worships the ground that girl walks on, which is everything she deserves.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I scan the room with an easy smile that I’ve worn down to muscle memory. I look like I’m surveying my choices, like I’m a man with endless options. Truth is, I know exactly where I’m going. Same blackjack table, every time. Have to keep up with where the money goes and comes from, even in the mafia.

When I reach my table, I pause. My regular dealer is off work today, but that’s not what pulls me up short. It’s the woman in front of me. An elegant little thing with short, curly brown hair and deep eyes to match. Pouty lips and a button nose—she’s beautiful, but I’ve seen my share of beautiful women. Still, when she makes eye contact with me, flashing those warm brown eyes in my direction, a thrill runs through me that I can’t explain.

She nods when I stop, signaling that I’ll join in the next round. As I wait, I watch her deft, well-manicured hands flipping cards. It doesn’t take long, and after the round finishes and the winner gets paid out, I’m dealt in. I play a round, but I don’t win. The gorgeous girl in front of me is a balm to my poor luck, though, and I decide I’ll stick around for a while, even if I don’t win anything. I’m not exactly hard up for money.

“There we go,” I murmur under my breath when I win the next round.

Across from me, the edge of her mouth lifts. “Very nice,” she remarks.

“I like to think I’m good at this game.” I glance at her nametag. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before, Holly.”

“I’m still pretty new,” she replies, dealing another hand. “But this isn’t my first time as a dealer.”

“I figured,” I note, looking at her card before tapping the table to indicate I want another. “So, where’d you work before?”

“Atlantic City,” she answers, placing cards in front of everyone.

The man beside me grumbles, eyeing his hand as he decides his next move. Ignoring him, I tap the table again. Normally I enjoy having others at the table, but today, I find myself wishing it were just me and Holly.

“Atlantic City, huh? You’re from New Jersey, then?”

“New York, actually.” Her hands move smoothly, the dark red nail polish catching the bright casino lights.

“No kidding?” I chuckle.

She rolls her eyes, a smirk tugging at her perfect mouth. “No, I’m pulling your leg.”

“Stop messing with him,” a woman at the end of the table calls out with a laugh.

I raise an eyebrow at Holly, feigning hurt as I refuse another card. “Trying to mess with me, huh?” I chuckle. “That’s exactly what I’d expect from a New York girl.”

“Know something about the city?” Holly’s focus is entirely on the cards she’s laying down.

“You could say that.” I wince as her cards trump all of ours—a blackjack.

“Spend a lot of time there?” she asks, clearing the table before shuffling.

“I spent the first twenty years of my life in New York,” I tell her coolly. “I miss it sometimes, but Cherrywood Village is nice.”

“It’s quiet,” she replies, waving as the woman at the end of the table gets up and leaves. “Definitely the kind of place for settling down and raising a family.”

“That’s what I did.”

“Oh, so you’re a family man?” Her tone dips slightly, with just a hint of disappointment.

“I used to be.” I glance at the card she lays in front of me. “It was just me and my daughter for a long time, but she’s all grown up now.”

I keep quiet about my deceased wife. I’m enjoying talking with Holly, and I don’t want to dampen the mood. I’d like to get close enough to her to have that conversation and learn about her past. But for now, I’d rather keep things light.

“So you’re just living an easy life as a bachelor now,” Holly remarks, sounding amused.

“Something like that.” I tap the table for another card. “What about you? Come to Cherrywood Village for an easy life?”

“Something like that,” she echoes, dealing to everyone at the table.

I nod, realizing she probably has her own complicated history. My interest sharpens, trying to figure out how to get more time with her, to get her alone.

“Thinking about settling here?” I ask, nudging the conversation in a softer direction. “Seems like the kind of place for it.”

“The jury’s still out,” she replies, laying down more cards. “It’s nice, but I miss the hustle and bustle of a big city. I lived in Brooklyn; it’s been an adjustment. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to how laid back it is here.”

“I thought the same when I moved here.” I signal that I don’t need another card. “I stayed in Manhattan.”

“Well, I’d love to swap big city stories sometime.” She hums as the man next to me wins his hand, pays him out, then adds, “I’m not sure our other guests at the table would appreciate it, though.”

I glance at the man beside me and instantly understand. He’s clearly annoyed by our back-and-forth. Casinos aren’t exactly known for friendly chit-chat; they’re for people serious about the game. Not every patron here has my level of disposable income.

“Ah, you’re right.” I lean toward my neighbor and lower my voice. “Sorry for chattering in your ear.”

The man grunts, his gaze never leaving his cards. I take it as my cue to do the same. Playing a few more rounds in silence, I eventually decide I should probably call it a night. I’ve played enough to avoid suspicion if an investigation ever came up, and with the silence between Holly and me, there isn’t much reason to stay.

“You’re done?” she asks when I shake my head and gather my things after the round wraps up.

“I believe so.” Pleased to hear the disappointment in her voice, I add, “I actually wasn’t planning on staying this long, but the conversation was too good to walk away from.”

She blushes, the gold flecks in her eyes catching the light. “It was nice talking to you. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“I’m sure you will.” I frown when my neighbor clears his throat, impatient. Giving the table one last tap, I offer a final, “Have a good night, Holly. It was nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” she responds, turning her attention back to her job. But then, as if remembering something, her head snaps up. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“I’m Patrick,” I reply easily. “Patrick Montgomery.”

“Well, have a good night, Patrick Montgomery,” she tells me with a little wave before returning to the table.

Before leaving, I allow myself one last indulgent look at her. Then, before my gaze turns predatory, I turn on my heel and head for the door. As I make my way to the car, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something between us. Maybe it was the easy way we talked, or the fact that we’re both from New York, but I’m drawn to her.

On the drive home, it dawns on me that I haven’t been this interested in someone since my wife passed away. I can’t let her slip by. If I have to come to this casino every day just to talk to her, I will. Whatever it takes to make Holly mine.