"Bennett, Cherie - Sunset Island 011 - Sunset Paradise" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bennett Cherie)

Please let me win, please let me win, Sam chanted to herself.
"Zero," the croupier called. He scooped all the bets off the table. No one had bet on zero. Including Sam.
Sam just sat there, a sick, empty feeling in her stomach.
"Tough luck, huh?" an older woman next to her sympathized.
"Yeah," Sam sighed.
"Listen, I watched you lose a bundleЧit can happen to anyone," she said, waving her cigarette in the air. "It's happened to me tons of times." ,
"Uh-huh," Sam said hollowly. She felt like screaming, You can afford to have it happen to you tons of times, but I can't! But she didn't scream, she just sat there.
"Listen, I'll give you a little advice," the woman said. "It never fails. If you keep
playing, your luck will change. It's just the odds, you know?"
Sam heard Carrie's voice in her head: Statistically, there's no such thing as a winning streak. Well, that had to mean that there was no such thing as a losing streak, either. Which meant that the odds were in her favor to win at least some of her money back.
"Gamblers without heart should stay out of the casino, that's my advice," the woman said.
"You think I can win the money back?" Sam asked the woman.
"Sure!" the woman said. "If you've got the heart to hang in there, that is."
Sam thought about the five hundred dollars' worth of traveler's checks in her purse. It was all the money she had managed to save from her job. She hadn't had any intention of spending itЧshe'd really brought it along just so she wouldn't feel beholden to Emma for absolutely everything.
Are you crazy? a voice screamed inside her head. You can't use that money to gamble!
"I never leave here a loser," the woman said, lighting another cigarette from the stub of the one she had just finished.
"Never?" Sam asked, her eyes taking in the pile of chips in front of the woman.
"Never," the woman said, blowing a puff of smoke out of her mouth. "Can't stand losers."
/ am not a loser, Sam told herself firmly. And I refuse to leave here a loser. She got up abruptly and walked over to the cashier's window, where she turned in all her traveler's checks for cash. Then she returned to the roulette table, where her seat was waiting.
"Five-dollar chips, please," Sam said in a strong voice, pushing the money over to the croupier.
"That's the spirit," the older woman cheered.
At first Sam started winning again. But then she began to lose. And lose. And lose. She didn't even notice when the older woman left the table, or when another croupier took over. Finally, terribly, she looked down and realized she had only fifty dollars' worth of chips left.
Panic welled up inside her. Her hands shook as she placed the last chips on the board, praying that this time she would win.
But she didn't. She lost. She had lost every penny she had. Tears welled up in her eyes. Please let this all be just a bad dream,
Sam thought, her eyes shut tightly. But when she opened them, she had no chips in front of her and no traveler's checks in her purse.
How could this have happened? Sam asked herself as she ran blindly toward the ladies' room. Once inside the safety of a stall, Sam gave herself over to her tears.
"I am completely screwed," she sobbed out loud, ripping off some toilet paper to wipe her face. How can I ever face Carrie and Emma? I can't! she thought, tears streaming down her cheeks. / have totally messed up this time.
Sam finally stopped crying and came out of the stall to wash her face. Everything seemed hopeless. She fixed her makeup as well as she could and left the ladies' room, ready to go to bed. I'll figure it all out tomorrow, she told herself. Right now I'm just too exhausted.
"Ah, Samantha. You are still here," Jean-Claude said when Sam headed for the lobby and practically bumped into him.
"I'm just going to bed," Sam said.
"C'est dommage," Jean-Claude replied. "I was hoping we could have just one drink together."
"Look, if you want to know the truth, I'm
not in a very good mood," Sam said with a sigh.
"What is it?" Jean-Claude asked, a look of deep concern on his face.
"I really don't want to talk about it," Sam said, embarrassed to feel the tears welling up in her eyes again.
"But you have been crying!" Jean-Claude said tenderly. "Please, what can I do to help? You are much too lovely to have tears on your face."
He seemed so genuinely concerned, and Sam was so distraught, that she blurted out the truth. "I lost everything!" she cried. "Everything I won, and all my savings."
"Poor child," Jean-Claude commiserated. "How much was this?"
"Nine hundred dollars," Sam admitted, her voice low.
"No, I mean the total amount," Jean-Claude said.
"That is the total amount," Sam said, her temper flaring. "Maybe it's nothing to you, but it's a hell of a lot to me!"
"Ah, I see," Jean-Claude said, nodding gravely. "Well, first we must get you some champagne to calm you down." He took her elbow and led her to a pair of overstuflfed velvet chairs. Instantly a waitress was there to take the order, and in a moment they had
a bottle of excellent champagne in front of them.
"Here," Jean-Claude said, handing Sam a glass of champagne. "It will make you feel better."
Sam sipped at the champagne. It was cold and delicious, but it didn't make her feel any better. "I don't know how I could have done something like that," Sam mumbled, staring down at the bubbles in her champagne.
"It comes, it goes," Jean-Claude said with a Gallic shrug. He reached over and took Sam's hand. "But a young woman as beautiful as you should not have to worry about such things."
"Yeah, well, I do," Sam said flatly.
"It distresses me to see such sadness on your face," Jean-Claude said.
"I don't know why," Sam answered. "You don't even know me."
"Au contraire," he murmured. "I feel as if I have known you forever."