Betting on Hope (18 page)

And there was nothing Marty could do to stop that.

“So, Baby, can I ask you something personal?” Hope asked. She and Baby had gone to Target for more accessories, where they’d struck gold—or at least gold plate. All the merchandise, normally very reasonably priced, was now on sale. Baby was having a field day at the sunglasses display.

Hope tried on a pair of sunglasses with huge frames and looked at herself in the tiny mirror that hung over the rack. No. Too big, too square, definitely too much flash and not nearly enough class.

“Something personal? Sure,” Baby said, looking deeply into her own teeny mirror at the sunglasses she had on. The narrow, cats-eye frames were turquoise, edged in rhinestones. “These glasses are so cute! I can’t believe I never shopped here before. This store is fantastic for accessories. Okay, it’s got no atmosphere at all, but the selection! And the
prices!
I’m definitely getting these.”

Hope glanced at her, assessing. “You definitely should. If you don’t, I will.”

Baby snorted as she took off the glasses and put them into their basket. “As if. So whaddaya wanna know?”

Hope hesitated, putting the big frames back on the rack. “I don’t want to offend you. But Big Julie’s not an obvious choice for a, a boyfriend for you, I guess. And I wondered, why did you pick him?”

Baby handed a pair of glasses to Hope to try on. “You’re thinking, hot young chick and old fat man. He’s rich and I’m out for what I can get. Right?”

Hope swallowed, putting on the sunglasses to hide her eyes.
In a nutshell.
“Well, something like that.”

Baby nodded. “It’s not real obvious, but Big Julie’s sexy. I think it’s because people do what he says. I’m not saying I won’t take what Big Julie wants to give me. But you know, giving me stuff makes him feel good. It’s more like, it’s not about me. It’s about him, you know?”

Hope thought about that. “So you’d be his girlfriend even if he didn’t give you a lot of presents?” She took another look at her face with the squarish tortoiseshell glasses. They were a bit glam. But not too glam. 

“Well, probably not,” Baby conceded. “But with Big Julie, it’s not either or. He’s got the money to buy a nice apartment on the golf course, and he’s got the pull to buy it, too, even though he’s not a member. See? He can get your street light fixed first. Like that.”

“You care about
street lights?
” Baby was showing unexpected depths.

“
Of course
I care about street lights.” Baby was indignant. “The other night we came home from dinner and a nice night out, the street lights were dark, what is
with
that? And I stepped into a crack in the sidewalk and broke the heel off my Jimmy Choos. They’re
ruined.
”

“Ah.”

“So why are you asking all these questions, anyway? Not that I mind. And by the way, those shades look very classy on you.”

Hope took off the sunglasses and dropped them into the basket. “Well. Is there something about Big Julie’s—associations—that attracts you? When you met him, was it—appealing somehow?”

“Oh,
now
I get it,” Baby said, a knowing smile lighting her face. “You met a bad boy, right? They’re the best kind.”

Hope frowned and started to push the cart toward the checkout. “I wouldn’t know. And I’ve never wanted to find out.”

Baby rolled her eyes. “Oh really? Beige Girl never went out with a bad boy? Why does that so not surprise me?”

“Hey,” Hope said, jerking the cart to a sudden halt at the end of line ten. “I have gone out with plenty of troublemakers.
Plenty.
”

“All of whom dressed like they went to the office on Saturday.”

“It doesn’t matter what they
dress
like,” Hope said, exasperated. “What matters is what’s in their
head.
”

“What’s in their head is what they dress like! And that’s why we’re shopping for
you
. If you dress like you have fun on Saturday, you might actually
have
fun.”

The woman pushing the cart ahead of them in line turned around and gave Hope the once over. “She’s right, honey,” she said before she turned back to her celebrity tabloid.

“I
am
having fun,” Hope said, jamming the cart between the checkout counters. “See?
Lots
of fun.”

“You could be,” Baby said with that irritating, knowing smile. “You’re all hot and bothered about that bad boy you don’t want to think about.”

“I’m not thinking about anybody,” Hope said, putting her sunglasses on the checkout counter and watching them roll toward the cashier.

Not much I’m not.

Chapter 13

When Baby and Hope got back to the casino, they met Tanner by the elevator that went up to the suites.

“What are you doing here?” Hope asked.

“Marty sent me to take you to buy a hat,” Tanner said. “Assuming you didn’t get one yet. You could act happier to see me.”

“I’d be happier,” Hope said, glaring, “if I weren’t so busy having so much incredible
fun
.”

“What?” Tanner asked, looking confused, but Baby had stepped a little closer and was looking him over, blatantly assessing him.

“Are you bad?” she purred, leaning forward slightly, giving Tanner a spectacular view of everything she had, which was quite a lot. “You look like a bad boy.”

Tanner assessed her too, a faint smile on his face. “I can be bad,” he said. “How bad do you need me to be?”

“I can see that introductions are probably superfluous here,” Hope said, feeling waspish, “but let me make the attempt. Baby, this is Tanner Wingate.”

“The bad boy.” Baby licked her lips.

“Very,” Tanner said, smiling into Baby’s eyes and then glancing at Hope. “I especially like to be bad with two beautiful women.”

“You’ll have to save all your badness for one, because I have plans for my own bad boy,” Baby said. “I was just curious. See you.” She stepped into the elevator car and waved at Hope as the doors closed.

Hope watched Tanner watch Baby disappear from view. Baby had her ways with men. They certainly had worked on Tanner.

Feeling unaccountably depressed, Hope turned around and walked away. All this shopping was pointless. She was the heads-down, focused-on-the-future one. The one without the silicone breasts, the tummy tucks, the extra peroxide lift. The one who dressed like she went to work on Saturdays. The one who—if she faced facts—would acknowledge that she didn’t have any fun.

“Hey, Hope, wait up!”

Hope glanced at her watch as she strode down the hall. Five-thirty. She was meeting Marty at six for the all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet to celebrate her big win that afternoon, which now seemed a long time ago. She’d check in at home first. She didn’t want to spend any more time with Tanner Wingate, who was probably drooling on the elevator doors right now, wishing Baby’s breasts would come back.

A hand snagged her elbow.

“Hey. Didn’t you hear me yell to wait up?”

Hope scowled at Tanner’s hand on her arm until he dropped it. “Oh, you thought I was a dog in training? I come when you call?”

Tanner stared at her. “We’re going hat shopping. For your game. What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing. But I’m not in the mood to go hat shopping.” She started to walk again, and Tanner went after her.

“We have to. Marty will rip me a new one if we don’t come back with a hat for you.”

“I’ve done all the shopping I can do today. Maybe you can take Baby. She likes to shop.”

Tanner stopped her again. “What? Don’t tell me. Is that what you’re pissed off about? Because Baby showed me her goods?”

“I’m not pissed off. Whatever Baby showed you, I’m sure it was very nice. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Tanner laughed shortly, looking exasperated.

“You
are
mad. Jesus. She was yanking my chain. You have to know that, right? And now
you’re
yanking it. Well, at least the two of you are having fun.” 

Hope looked away. Baby
had
been kidding. Or—Baby had been teasing both of them, trying to find out if Tanner was the “bad boy” Hope had been thinking about. Tanner, though—Hope didn’t think Tanner had been kidding when he’d stared at Baby’s breasts.

But Tanner didn’t matter. He was just another card player, out for the quick score. She didn’t care about him. Once this game was over, she’d never see him again.

“Okay, whatever,” she said, focusing on the future again. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m meeting the uncles at six for dinner. I’m not going hat shopping. There’s no time and I don’t want to. Goodbye.”

“Whoa,” Tanner said, putting out a restraining hand again. “Change of plans. Why do you think I was waiting around down here for you in the first place? Marty called. He said, meet him at seven. And until then, we’re going hat shopping.”

Hope frowned. “Why didn’t Marty call me?”

Tanner rolled his eyes. “Maybe your phone needs a charge? Maybe it’s turned off? How should I know?”

Hope dug through her purse and pulled out her phone. It was turned off.

“I can’t believe I did that,” she said.

“Can we go hat shopping now?”

Hope sighed. “I suppose.”

“Gracefully said. The car is this way.”

Hope trailed through the casino after Tanner, feeling rebellious and immature. She dug the phone out and turned it on. She called home.

“Hey, Mom, it’s me,” she said when Suzanne answered the phone. “What are you doing?”

“We’re just making dinner,” Suzanne said. “We’re having spinach lasagna and salad, and then we’re going to have hot fudge sundaes while we watch that new reality singing show. How are you, sweetie? How did it go today?”

Hope felt a pang of longing. She’d had a great time—a really great time—winning that fifty grand today. But now she wished she could go home and eat dinner and watch television with her family.

“I did good,” she said, hearing the happiness bubble back into her voice. “I won fifty grand.”

“Fifty thousand dollars? Hope, that’s fantastic! Faith, honey, Hope won fifty thousand dollars!”

Even through the noise of the casino, Hope heard a whoop in the background.

“Faith says, way to go. What’s that, Amber?”

Hope waited.

“Amber says, say hi to Tanner.”

“Tanner gets quite enough female attention,” Hope said, feeling snarly again.

“What’s that, Hope?”

“Nothing, Mom. Listen, I’ve got to go. You have fun. Save me some leftovers, okay? And don’t wait up. I’ll probably be late again.”

“Break a leg, dear, or whatever they say to poker players.”

Hope closed her phone and looked up to see Tanner watching her.

“Amber says hi,” she said, shoving the phone in her purse.

“She’s a nice kid,” he said. “Come on, let’s get that hat.”

They drove north of the airport until Tanner pulled into the huge parking lot of a giant, brightly lit store.

“You ever shop here?” he asked.

“No,” Hope said, looking at the Western insignia on the outside. “And I don’t want to start. I don’t want a cowboy hat.”

“They sell all kinds,” he said.

Hope sighed and got out of the truck.

“That’s the spirit,” Tanner said.

They went into the store and Hope blinked at the bright lights and rows and rows of shelves, all crammed with Western wear. Jeans, shirts, jackets, boots and shoes, and most of all, hats.

Hats of all types. Fedoras, toques, caps, bowlers, berets, sun hats—even stovepipes, top hats, and deerstalkers. But most of all, cowboy hats. Hats in all colors. Hats in straw, wool, and felt. Cowboy hats with bands of contrasting fabric, beads, conchos, feathers, rhinestones, metalworking and leather braiding. The sheer numbers, the fabrics, the styles of the hats made Hope dizzy.

“Wow,” she said.

“Yeah,” Tanner said. “They’ve got everything here.”

They went over to the women’s hats, and Tanner looked at Hope. “What do you like?”

Hope looked at all the dozens—probably hundreds—of hats.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Baby’s been modifying my taste. Something with a wide brim.” Suddenly she frowned.

“Maybe we should have brought Baby,” she said. “You’d have liked that.”

“Stop busting my chops,” Tanner said, picking up a tan wool Western hat with a braided band in dark brown leather. “I can’t imagine anything less fun than the two of you hassling me all night. Here, try this one for starters.”

He handed the Western hat to Hope who slapped it on her head. “What do you mean?” she said. “You
liked
Baby.”

Tanner sighed. “She was all right. But I’m done talking about Baby. Do you like that one at all?”