You Bet Your Life Read Online Free PDF Page A

passion,” he said, straightening. “Craps and antique cars. But if he’s not tooling around in an old convertible, he’d rather shoot craps than do anything else in the world. Lucky I pay you so well, isn’t it, Henry?”
    Henry’s face reddened. He straightened the napkin in his lap and muttered, “You’re lucky I run the business so well.”
    “I’ll have the hotel reserve a table for us tonight,” Victor added, “and Henry can teach all of you to play.”
    “I already have plans for tonight, Victor,” Henry said.
    “Plans? You’d rather go out with a woman than play craps? You’re slipping, Henry.”
    “Nah. You’re right. I gotta make up some losses. Get the table.”
    “Oliver, call the hotel office and have them arrange a private craps table for us,” Victor said. “Tell them we need it in about two hours.”
    The bodyguard rose out of his seat next to mine, pulled a cellular phone from his pocket, and walked to a quiet corner.
    Two waiters in white shirts and ties approached the table and refilled our champagne glasses. Jane and Henry sipped at theirs. Victor stood and raised his glass, his eyes on Martha, who was engrossed in a conversation with Seth. Victor waited, his eyes turbulent. A frisson of tension snapped around the table, and one by one, the guests fell silent.
    Tony cleared his throat loudly. “I believe our host wants to make a toast,” he said, lifting his glass. Others at the table did the same.
    Martha realized Victor was waiting for her. She smiled softly and picked up her champagne. “How lovely,” she said, holding his gaze. “I’m eager to hear it.”
    Everyone smiled, and the collective tension was broken.
    Victor watched her for another second. His lips parted over his white teeth. “To my beautiful wife, Martha. That’s Martha with a T and an H, Tony.”
    Tony’s brows flew up. “I’m really in the doghouse, aren’t I? Will you ever forgive me?” He directed an imploring look at Martha. “Just pat me on the head and say all is forgiven. I promise I won’t wet the rug again.” He pretended to beg like a dog, stuck out his tongue, and panted.
    Martha laughed. “Of course you’re forgiven,” she said. “Any friend of Victor’s is a friend of mine. And if you’re really good, we’ll get you a doggie biscuit for dessert.”
    Victor remained standing throughout the byplay. “To my beautiful wife,” he repeated a little louder, recapturing her attention.
    “Hear, hear,” said Henry, raising his glass and bringing it to his lips.
    “I’m not finished yet, Henry.”
    “Well, don’t tease us, man.”
    “To my beautiful wife, Martha, whom I adore.”
    “And who adores you,” Martha put in.
    Jane sighed audibly and tilted her head back, eyes staring at the ceiling.
    Victor continued, “I know we’ll have many years of happiness together because she pleases me in all ways.” He sipped his champagne and gave Martha a secret smile. She blushed prettily over the rim of her glass.
    “You can drink now, Henry,” Jane said, putting down her own glass without tasting its contents. “He’s. finished his sugary speech—thank God!” With her index finger, she twisted one of the curls that hung down next to her ear, and looked around the room, bored.
    Victor ignored her comment.
    Doug, who was sitting next to Jane, attempted to enlist her in conversation. “How do you like living in Las Vegas?” he asked.
    “Well, since I’ve lived here all my life, it hardly holds any surprises,” she replied. She tore a hunk of bread from a roll on her plate and put it in her mouth, effectively cutting herself off from the discussion.
    Doug tried again. “This is the first trip to Las Vegas for me and my wife. That’s my wife over there, sitting next to your father. Her name is Tma.”
    Jane glanced briefly at Tina but said nothing.
    “We’re not much on gambling, so we wondered what else there was to do. What would you recommend?”
    Jane chewed her bread and