The Millionaire Gambler (Ashley's Choice) Read Online Free PDF Page B

a professional gambler.  He plays poker for a living.”  She was curious to see how Michael would respond to this.
     
    “Poker?  Here?  Who plays poker in Dallas?  Shouldn't he be in Las Vegas or something?”
     
    “That's what I thought, but he says there's a lot of poker here, mostly in private games.”
     
    “Sounds a little fishy to me.  Illegal, too.  How well do you know this guy?”
     
    “Well enough, I guess.  I think he's honest about what he does for a living, but I haven't actually seen him play or anything.  Why do you ask?”
     
    “I'm just concerned about you, that's all.  I'd hate for you to find out he's dangerous or something.”  His look suggested to Ashley that Michael might be more jealous than concerned for her safety.
     
    “Thanks for the concern, but I'm a big girl, Michael. I'll be fine.”
     
    “OK.  I guess I've said all I'm entitled to say about the matter.  I'll be in my office, OK?”
     
    Michael turned to leave and left Ashley to run the shop for a while.  She stayed pretty busy during the morning, and spent her time tidying up the espresso machine during the times in between customers.  Espresso is a messy business, and if you don't spend time cleaning up after yourself, you'll end up with coffee grounds everywhere.
    Michael liked a tidy shop, so Ashley spent a lot of time cleaning.  It helped to pass the time.  So did thinking about Jason.  Last night was one of the most amazing nights of her life, and one she'd always savor, even if nothing happened between her and Jason again.
     
    Of course, she hoped for more.  Lots more.
     
    He said he'd call.  Lots of guys say that.  I hope he really does call.
     
    The afternoon went by pretty slowly, as business tends to drop off a bit later in the day.  Ashley was growing bored, and a bit anxious, wondering when, and if, she'd hear from Jason.
     
    A few minutes later, she received a text message:
     
    Ash – I need to talk to you.  Important.
     
    She quickly typed a reply:
     
    I'm off at 6.  Meet me at the Pour House.
     
    He replied:
     
    C U there
     
    The Pour House was a bar just a couple of doors down from the coffee shop; Ashley figured that would be as good a place to meet as any.  She and Erin had drinks there from time to time.
     
    She grew concerned.  Her relationship with Jason was just starting.  Was he going to call it off already?
     
    The rest of the afternoon went by at a snail's pace as Ashley fidgeted, paced, and nervously tried her best to act normal.  She hadn't had a boyfriend in such a long time, and last night was magical.  She wasn't ready to give up Jason just yet.
     
    I shouldn't worry about it.  It's probably about something else.  Either way, I'll find out soon enough.
     
    At six, she poked her head into Michael's office.  “Michael?  I'm leaving for the day.”
     
    “OK.  I'll see you tomorrow.”  He looked her over and noticed that she looked a little uncomfortable.  “Are you all right?”
     
    “I'm fine.  It's no big deal.  Gotta go.”
     
    She took off her apron and walked the short distance to the Pour House.  The bar had been there for decades; it had a cozy, well-worn look to it.  The same guy had been running the place forever, it seemed.  It was a nice, quiet place to have a drink and visit without being overly loud or full of obnoxious drunks.
     
    Ashley found a table.  When the waitress came around, she ordered a Vesper, a drink she'd discovered in a James Bond film a couple of years ago.  It's not a drink you can get just anywhere, but it's worth the trouble if you can find a bartender who knows how to make one.  One of the things that Ashley liked about the Pour House was that the bartenders seemed to know how to mix anything.
     
    Jason arrived a few minutes later.  As always, he looked amazing, and Ashley's heart started to beat a bit faster at the sight of him.  He took a seat next to Ashley and ordered a Guinness.
     
    “Hi,”