calm. Miss Eleanor Russell, looking cool and collected as always, sat at the poker table. Her back was ramrod straight. Her beautiful gray hair was in a lovely upswept style that gave her such elegant air Lydia was almost jealous. Lydia had been trained from an early age to be elegant. For her it was sometimes a challenge, but for Miss Eleanor it was effortless.
Lydia smoothed the cool silk fabric of her black pants and tugged at her Arctic white turtleneck. The room was cold, kept icy so the poker players stayed alert. Only one other person remained at the poker table, besides Miss E. and the dealer. Only one person stood between Lydia and her new life. She wanted to send the evil mojo toward him like nobody’s business, but since she had been raised to be a lady, she could only think about doing it.
The other player sat slumped over his cards, his face hidden behind large sunglasses. He kept his cards face down on the table while the dealer dealt another card.
“Are you watching him?” Jasper Biggins leaned over to whisper to Lydia. He was in his mid-sixties with iron gray hair and strong hands. His blue eyes held a twinkle. He told her he’d lived in Reno his whole life.
Miss E. had told Lydia he owned this beautiful casino with a twelve-story hotel rising overhead. Why Jasper wanted to be rid of the Casa de Mariposa was a mystery to Lydia, though Miss E. probably knew. Miss E. knew everything. And she wasn’t telling.
“What am I looking for?” She studied man, hoping she would see his tell. Behind him, at the opposite end of the gallery, a woman sat watching the game with the same level of concentrated interest as Lydia. She vaguely remembered being told the woman was Jasper’s daughter. She was a slender, brittle-looking woman with a hard face and angry eyes.
The pile of chips in front of the man at the poker table was considerably smaller than it had been at the beginning of the game, when the last seven players out of the original seventy-seven sat down to try their luck in winning the casino, the final prize of the game.
“Watch his hands.” Jasper pointed a bony finger, directing her gaze to the player below.
Lydia leaned forward and realized the man sitting across from Miss E. clutched his fingers tightly. A few minutes earlier they had been more relaxed.
“That’s his tell,” Jasper said. “I don’t think he even realizes what he’s doing.”
Most professional players thought their eyes and facial expressions gave them away, hence the oversized sunglasses to hide what he thought must be his tell. Jasper had been educating Lydia, giving her a running commentary on the game as it progressed. Lydia had a rudimentary knowledge of the game learned at Miss E.’s poker school when Lydia had first attended. But Jasper brought a deeper, more profound knowledge of the game and Lydia was happy to listen.
Miss Eleanor tapped the table, her long graceful fingers holding her cards almost daintily. She wore clear reading glasses, her own face impassive. If she had a tell, Lydia hadn’t spotted it yet. Miss E. looked completely unassuming and harmless, yet Lydia knew a tigress lurked beneath that tranquil, serene exterior.
The dealer slid a card toward Miss E. and she smiled at him and said thank-you. She was always gracious, always mannerly while the other player tended to be surly. The man shoved all the stacks of chips in front of him to the center of the table. Eleanor matched it.
Lydia believed Miss E. had her opponent on the run, but Lydia had been taking poker lessons for only the past few months, so she wasn’t quite sure what was going on. Miss Eleanor had taught Lydia the mechanics of poker, but the more subtle details of the game eluded her.
Miss Eleanor’s opponent said something. Miss Eleanor raised a delicate eyebrow. Slowly she turned over the cards in front of her, not even looking at them. With an angry twist to his lips, the man threw his cards at her and stood up. Miss Eleanor smiled and scooped up all the chips and the deed for the casino that had been the final prize. Miss Eleanor had won.
Lydia tilted her head at Miss Eleanor. “Lydia,” she said in a clear voice, “you, Reed and I are now the proud owners of the Casa de Mariposa.”
Lydia wet her lips. “I knew you wouldn’t lose.” Her nervousness drained away, replaced by elation. She had set out to do something different with her life, and here she was a former upper crust hostess of New Orleans society and now the new owner of a casino.
Miss. E. leaned close to the window, her voice carried into the gallery by a microphone. “You can take a breath now, sweetie.”
Lydia did. She jumped to her feet. She couldn’t wait to tell Maya.
“Let’s go enjoy our victory.” Jasper held out a hand to her.
Across the gallery Jasper’s daughter watched them, her mouth tight with anger. She glared at her father, then turned on her heel and left the gallery.
“Of course.” Lydia gathered up her purse and jacket and headed toward the gallery door, Jasper following on her heels.
In the hall outside the poker room, Miss Eleanor handed the signed deed to Lydia. “I’m going to call Reed. I wish he could have been here. He’ll be ecstatic.”
Lydia had yet to meet Reed. He’d been called home to deal with a family emergency.
She stared at the deed, excited, scared and hopeful. She could hardly wait to go back to her suite to tell her daughter. Their new life in Reno, Nevada, had just begun.
Chapter 1
Hunter Russell woke and tried to figure out what was ringing. Darkness outside the windows of his apartment told him it was still night. A quick glance at the clock told him it was just after three a.m. A few sleepy moments passed before he realized the ringing sound was his phone. He grabbed the device, feeling a surge of worry when he saw his grandmother’s number on the display. His heart started racing as panic engulfed him.
“Miss E,” he said, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Dire thoughts rushed through him.
She laughed. “I’m fine, Hunter. Just fine. Nothing is wrong.”
In his experience, phone calls at three a.m. were never good. “Then why are you calling?” He sat up, struggling to push sleep away. If nothing was wrong, why was his seventy-eight-year-old grandmother calling at three in the morning?
“Pack your bags, Hunter, I need you in Reno. Immediately.”
Lingering drowsiness finally cleared. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you sure you’re not ill?”
“Trust me. Everything is fabulous,” she said, still laughing. “I just won a casino in a poker game.”
“You what?”
She repeated her statement, pausing between each word. “I...just...won...a...casino. In a poker game.”
He shook his head. Had he heard her right? “Did you just say you won a casino?”
“Twice, Hunter. Wake up.”
That wasn’t what he expected to hear. “Miss E., are you insane? Are you drunk?”
“Grandson,” she said sharply, “do you think I can’t reach through this phone and slap you upside the head?”
Hunter
