POV: Brigail
"Excuse me, Miss, but can you help me with a delivery?" Brigail asked the professional-looking concierge at the lobby of the Obsidian Ace.
After Eli left them last night, Jerry and Brigail went to the small watering hole down at Fremont Street and treated themselves to a few drinks.
Brigail was terribly conflicted. She'd cursed her stupid impulse to snoop.
She would not be in such a predicament if she had just walked away and resisted the urge to peek at his cards.
He folded! He freakin' folded! It's not my problem he threw away a royal flush! She tried to rationalize in her head.
Although she knew, deep in her gut, that Eli Michealson let her win on purpose.
And she didn't know what to make of that.
Did he just get tired of playing with her?
Did he suddenly realize s
