The Wedding Gamble Read online

  Unfortunately, they were not thin enough. Zacolli’s voice was unintelligible. David grabbed a glass from the bedside table and put it to the wall. This was only a little better: he managed to catch every fifth word: “Disgrace…Feds…never…”

  “Dad, you’ve got it all wrong.” Tommy must have been standing closer to the wall or else declaiming like a hammy actor, because David could hear him clearly. “I wasn’t friends with that federal scum—I was on to him from the first. I milked him for everything I could get. Weren’t you the one who taught me that knowledge is power? The more I knew about the case he was making against you, the more we could use that against him.”

  Zacolli’s answer was a low rumble.

  “Her?” Tommy said. “She was clueless. She thought the guy was some kind of diplomat.”

  David almost dropped the glass. Were they talking about Laura?

  “He probably told her he was taking vacation photos. Honestly, the woman was as naïve as they come. I think she might have even been really in love with the guy. She’d have believed anything he told her.”

  Another frustratingly unintelligible answer.

  “I agree; it would bring shame on the family if you had to kill your own son. Especially if people found out later I hadn’t done anything wrong.”

  More mumbling, this time from someone else. Maybe Charlie? Zacolli barked an unintelligible answer, though there was no mistaking the belligerence in his tone.

  “Who are you going to believe?” Tommy asked. “An employee or your own son? Charlie’s had it in for Abruzzo ever since he ruined his favorite leather jacket last year.”

  Really? That’s what all this animosity was about? Because David had spilled a drink down Charlie’s back at a party last year and the alcohol had taken some of the shine out of his leather jacket? That had been an accident—mostly. Maybe Charlie thought David had made him look bad in front of the boss; wounded pride could do a lot to twist a man’s thinking.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to prove myself to you,” Tommy was saying. “I’m sorry you think I let you down, but I really was trying to help.”

  David thought Tommy was laying it on a little thick, but the overacting seemed to be working. Zacolli’s tone was lighter.

  Tommy moved away from the wall then, and David couldn’t make out any more of their conversation. He returned the glass to the bedside, unlocked the door, and opened it enough to look down the hallway to Zacolli’s apartment.

  Ten agonizing minutes later the door opened, and Tommy emerged. He was pale and dark patches of sweat showed on his suit coat. He passed David and the maid’s cart and headed for the elevator.

  Just before the elevator doors closed, David slipped in after him. “Hello, Tommy.”

  “Shit! You trying to give me a heart attack?” Tommy put one hand over his heart and glared at David.

  “Did I hear right? Is your father really giving you another chance?”

  “You were listening?”

  “I heard some, but not all. Did you mean anything you said?”

  Tommy’s expression hardened. “What do you think? I told him whatever I thought he wanted to hear. He doesn’t care about me, but he cares about his reputation.”

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  “That depends. Is your offer of amnesty still open?”

  “It is.”

  Tommy let out a sigh full of weariness and resignation. “Then I say let’s get the hell out of Vegas before this all blows up in our faces.”

  …

  Laura had little hope of sleeping, and sharing the king-sized bed with Rachel didn’t help matters any. She might be the little sister, both physically and chronologically, but she took up the lion’s share of the mattress, and she hogged the covers.

  Somewhere around four a.m., Laura gave up, got dressed, and went in search of coffee.

  And David. She couldn’t give up searching for David. Which meant heading back to the Strip, that pulsing artery at the center of all things Vegas.

  The sidewalks were less crowded at this time of day, the frenzy of a few hours earlier subdued. But the neon still glowed brightly, and the mechanical chimes and chatter of the slot machines still spilled onto the street as Laura passed the open doors of the casinos. She thought of trying to find the wedding chapel, to see if the giant Elvis still loomed over the entrance or she had imagined it and if Liberace still presided over the uniting couples. But she couldn’t remember the side street she’d wandered down that first night, and she couldn’t think of a reason David would have to return there.

  She settled for coffee at a place across from Planet Hollywood. If Frank Zacolli had David, the hotel still seemed the most likely place to spot him. She sipped espresso with cream and sugar and watched the arrivals and departures at the hotel entrance, a steady stream of people even at this hour.

  A cab pulled into the portico, and the doorman held the door open for two men who emerged from the hotel. The taller of the two, who had a prominent nose, got into the cab first. The slightly shorter man, with broader shoulders, paused to look around him before he followed his friend, and the light from the building clearly illuminated his face.

  She cried out and rose from her chair, leaning toward the window that looked out onto the hotel. Of course David couldn’t hear her from here. Apparently satisfied that all was well, he climbed into the back seat beside Tommy and the cab pulled away.

  Maybe he’s headed to our hotel to get his things, Laura thought. Maybe he’s coming to get me. But even as she left the coffee shop and set out toward the hotel, she knew David was gone. He and Tommy were leaving town in a hurry. They couldn’t risk any delays that would give Victor and Charlie—or any of Zacolli’s other minions—time to catch up with them.

  He’d warned her this would happen, that things would end abruptly. She’d told herself what she and David had was never meant to last, that she was ready. But that was one lie she’d never persuade herself to believe.

  She was surprised to find Rachel awake when she got back to the room. “You’d better pack,” her sister said as she touched up her makeup, leaning close to the bathroom mirror. “We still have to collect my things before we head to the airport. What kind of drugs was I on when I made the reservation for so early in the morning?”

  “You said you didn’t plan to sleep in Vegas, so leaving early didn’t matter.”

  “Yeah, I probably did say that.” She replaced the cap on the lipstick and shoved the makeup bag into her purse. “I must be getting old. I can’t stay up all night the way I used to.”

  Laura took her suitcase from the closet and began putting things into it. She had a sudden, clear vision of David standing across the room, watching her pack like this—had it really been only two days ago?

  “Have you heard from David?” Rachel brought Laura’s shampoo and other toiletries from the bathroom and added them to the suitcase.

  “He’s okay. He left for the airport a little while ago.” She had no idea if he’d been headed to the airport or not, but Rachel didn’t need to know that.

  Rachel stilled, her hand still in the suitcase. “He did? Where’s he going?”

  “Back to Chicago, I guess.” She wedged a pair of sandals into the bag and surveyed the room. David’s things were still scattered about—his clothes and suitcase in the closet, his shaving things in the bathroom. “I guess I’ll leave his things here for the maids.”

  “He just left? Without even taking his things?”

  “He was in a hurry to get out of town.”

  “I’ll just bet he was. I hope you at least told him what a lousy thing this was to do to you.”

  She shook her head. “He doesn’t know I saw him. I was across the street in a coffee shop. By the time I came out, he was gone.”

  “Oh, Laura.” Rachel moved to embrace her, but she blocked the move.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Not right now. Let’s just get to the airport. Do you see anything I mis
sed?”

  “You forgot your tiara.” Rachel retrieved the rhinestone-studded crown from the bedside table.

  “I think I’ll leave that.” She zipped the suitcase shut and stood it on the floor beside the bed. “I think I’m done playing princess.”

  Rachel patted her arm. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I really am.”

  “You can go ahead and say I told you so.”

  “Well, I did tell you marriage to a stranger couldn’t last, but this is still a rotten way for it to end.”

  She nodded. David had left her life as suddenly as he’d entered it, and his departure was as much a shock to her system as his arrival.

  …

  “That cab better hurry up.” David checked his watch for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. It had been one hour since Tommy, in the performance of his life, had persuaded his father that he really was a true-blue loyal son who would never betray him. Fifty minutes since Tommy had agreed to come to Chicago to testify against the head of the Zacolli crime family. David had spent twenty minutes on the phone making the arrangements and another fifteen waiting for Tommy to pack. Every second that passed was one more second Zacolli might change his mind and send Victor and Charlie after them.

  “That’s the best you can do—a taxi? No limo?” Tommy grinned to show he was just kidding.

  “I know this is a hard concept for a flashy guy like you, but we’re trying to slip out of town without anyone—like your father or the people who work for him—noticing.”

  “What about your wife? We need to swing by and pick her up?”

  The knot in his chest grew a size larger. Half a dozen times he’d started to call Laura to try to explain, but a clean break was better. She understood things had to be this way—a quick end with no good-bye. “She’s leaving a little later with her sister. She’ll be safer that way.” Until he and Tommy were on the plane, safely en route to Chicago, Zacolli’s goons could come after them and gun them down without a second’s hesitation. They’d likely be looking for Laura, too, but they wouldn’t expect her to be with her sister. He hoped that would be enough to keep her safe. The thought of Laura caught in the crossfire gave him the shakes.

  “When my ma was alive, she and the old man always traveled separate,” Tommy said. “He told her it was safer that way, but then he’d have his girlfriend of the moment waiting in the car.” He shook his head. “Made me a cynic about love, I tell you.”

  “I used to feel that way, too.” Love was for other people—people who lived calmer, less dangerous lives.

  People brave enough to risk being hurt.

  “I guess when you meet the right person, you can change your mind.” Tommy patted his pockets in the habitual nervous gesture of a smoker searching for a cigarette, even though smoking wasn’t allowed in the hotel lobby. “That’s what got me to change my mind about you.”

  David looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

  “That wife of yours—Laura. She came to my room last night and begged me to use my influence to get my old man to let you go. That took guts.”

  “Laura came to you?” He’d assumed Zacolli had sent someone after her. “Yeah.” Tommy grinned. “She’s a smart girl. She brought a hot young guy with her to get me to open the door. Once she was in, she wouldn’t leave until she’d made her case. She said she loved you and that was worth taking risks for. Then she said she hoped I found that kind of love someday. I think she meant it.”

  “Laura doesn’t say anything she doesn’t mean.” He was having a hard time breathing, as if he’d been punched in the gut.

  “It got to me. That’s why I agreed to come with you, so maybe I could find someone who’d think about me that way. I’ll never get that chance if I follow in my dad’s footsteps.”

  “You did good, Tommy.” A cab pulled into the drive and he picked up one of Tommy’s bags. “Let’s go.”

  “Yeah, I’m ready to get out of here. Hey, do we need to stop by your hotel and grab your things?”

  “There’s nothing there I really need.” Except the only woman he’d ever wanted—a sweet, loving woman who deserved the home, family, and stable lifestyle he could never give her.

  He checked the portico and the street for any sign of Zacolli’s thugs. “Get in the cab. We need to hurry.” He’d dreamed about this day for years—the day he’d finally get Frank Zacolli off the streets for good. Never again would the old Don destroy lives the way he’d ruined his mother’s and father’s.

  All that was still important, but Laura had made him think that other things could be important, too; things he’d never allowed himself to want before, like a home and a family and a future that didn’t revolve around pretending to be someone else. She made him want those things, but most of all he wanted her, the way a Vegas gambler wants a big jackpot, or to win back the money he lost. But the odds had never been in his favor, and he didn’t know if his luck could really change.

  …

  Laura and her sister took a cab to Rachel’s hotel, where the three bridesmaids descended on them in a cloud of perfume and coffee aroma. Two of them had stayed up all night, but they only looked a little worse for wear. Kimmie was coming down with a cold, her red eyes and runny nose contrasting with her fading spray tan. “I’m going to chug cold medicine and sleep on the plane,” she announced as they piled into the van that would take them to the airport.

  If only Laura could deal with her own pain so easily.

  “I can’t believe you’re being so calm.” Rachel squeezed Laura’s hand and gave her a sympathetic smile.

  “I guess I’m just numb.”

  “When we get home we’ll talk to Josh,” Rachel said. “We’ll find David and sue him for half of everything he owns. He must have some money, since he bought you that ring.”

  Laura turned the ring around and around her finger. “We were married less than three days. I don’t think any court would think that was worth half of anything.”

  “Then we’ll sue him for pain and suffering. We can’t let him get away with breaking your heart like this.”

  “What are you two whispering about back there?” one of the bridesmaids called from the front of the van.

  “We’re talking about that guy you were with last night,” Rachel called.

  “Oooh, Pablo! Or was his name Pedro? Either way, he was totally hot. What a gorgeous accent.”

  As they segued into a discussion of the various hot men they’d met, Laura leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. David was probably already on his way back to Chicago. She hoped he was thinking of her, but whether they’d be thoughts of regret or relief she couldn’t say. He’d struck her as such a loner. Maybe he was glad to be alone again.

  At the airport, they discovered their flight was delayed. Kimmie tried to talk Rachel into going to the bar for a Bloody Mary. “I’d better stay here with Laura,” Rachel said. “She’s not feeling very well.”

  “Too much partying?” Kimmie looked sympathetic. “What happened to that hot guy you were hanging out with? Did somebody say he was your husband? Or was that just a joke?”

  “That was just a Vegas thing,” Rachel said. “And you know what they say—what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. I’d better not hear you or the others saying anything about my sister to anyone.”

  Kimmie sniffed. “As if I’d do that.” She fluttered her fingers in a half-hearted wave and headed in the direction of the bar, flanked by the other bridesmaids.

  “You could have gone with them,” Laura said. “I’ll be okay.”

  “You need someone to run interference. People are going to ask questions, and you need to decide what you’re going to tell them.”

  “Why do I have to tell them anything?”

  “Hmmm.” Rachel tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You mean just be mysterious? That might work for most people, but you won’t get away with that with Mom and Dad.”

  Laura groaned. “I guess I’ll deal with them when I have to.”


  By the time they were allowed to board the plane an hour later, she was longing for the days when Rachel either ignored her or took advantage of her. Rachel in full-on pity mode was almost too much to bear. As soon as the plane leveled off, she leaned back, closed her eyes, and pretended to be asleep. Rachel was probably right in saying Laura needed a plan. She should decide what she was going to do next. She supposed she’d go back to her old life—teaching little kids, having dinner with her parents once a week, and fading into the background.

  Except, she didn’t know if she could do that anymore. She’d faced down big men with guns. She’d had mad sex with a seriously hot guy. She’s talked her way into a mobster’s hotel room. She wasn’t the same woman she’d been when she arrived in Vegas three days ago.

  Her old life didn’t feel like a good fit, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still waiting—waiting for something to happen, waiting to find out how this crazy, fantastic chapter in her life would end. She couldn’t believe it was over.

  She managed to doze off on the plane, waking only when Rachel shook her. “We’re landing. Wake up.”

  Still groggy, she collected her bag from the overhead compartment and followed Rachel and the bridesmaids off the plane. O’Hare International Airport was teeming with people, as usual. Towing her suitcase behind her, she threaded her way through the crowd pouring toward baggage claim and ground transportation. “Josh is supposed to meet me by the baggage carousel,” Rachel called over her shoulder to Laura. “I’m sure he won’t mind giving you a ride, too.”

  Laura nodded. Already, Vegas seemed far away. Her head ached, and the bright light pouring through the glass of the airport terminal hurt her eyes.

  Rachel’s fiancé stood in the baggage claim area, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders slumped. He didn’t see them at first, then he turned and a smile lit his face as he spotted Rachel. Laura felt a pang of jealousy as the happy couple embraced. Would she ever have someone so glad to see her when she’d been away on a trip?

  She moved a few steps away to give Rachel and Josh some privacy. That’s when she saw the man with the sign. He wore a dark suit, white shirt, and a rep tie, and he held an iPad with a message that read. “Mrs. Laura Abruzzo.” When he saw her staring, he started toward her.