The Hand You're Dealt

4| Misleading

About five miles away, they found a roadside diner sitting in view of Interstate 57. With its seclusion, two eighteen-wheeler trucks and motorcycles parked on the gravel lot, Lauren didn't think it was family oriented. But upon entering, the business surprised her by being clean and obviously cared for. The lighting was decent, the white-tiled floors fairly shiny even after a day of traffic. The hostess—a young, pretty brunette with more curves than her own skinny frame—greeted them with a beaming smile and sat them at a booth by the window.

Having them in full view of any pursuit made Lauren nervous. But Gambit seemed unfazed by it, back to his charming self and flirting with the waitress as she took their order of drinks. Her heart still hammered with adrenaline from their fight and escape. If he could pretend like they hadn't escaped from people who wanted to kill them, so could she... but she had never been a good actress.

As they continued to chat, Lauren looked around. Being designed like a sixties diner with red, black, and white tile was a bit outdated, but the jukebox playing an Elvis Presley song and one of the bikers seated at the bar enjoying a milkshake gave it a charming feel. A truck driver bit into a large hamburger as another one talked with a biker. The atmosphere was very laid back and comfortable. Their hostess promised to return with their drinks before she hurried off to refill some coffee. Looks could be deceptive.

That woman at the bunker was a prime example. She was so beautiful, someone to think you could trust; someone like that might be expected to have a caring soul. Instead, that gorgeous face and toned body hid a black soul. She didn't even blink at casually discussing killing Lauren. A shiver raced over Lauren's skin as the woman's words repeated in her head. The waitress set their drinks down and she reached for her water, hoping the drink could help settle her down.

"What's wrong, chérie?" She looked up to meet Gambit's concerned gaze. "Don't tell me my philandering has sparked jealousy... It's all good fun, I assure you."

What a cocky fool he was—nothing but a womanizer. She shook her head. "It's not that" —with a look at the customers, she leaned across the table to continue with her voice lowered— "I just don't understand how you can simply brush off what happened."

He shrugged—just shrugged!—as he grabbed his Dr. Pepper. "No use in dwelling on the fact that you got a bad hand; it happens. You just learn to play with what you've got."

"A bad hand? You consider me being kidnapped, threatened to be killed, and running for my life as a bad hand?"

He gave a curt nod. "Oui. You can learn from a bad hand—use it to your advantage."

"We're not playing poker!" she practically shouted at him.

"Once you view this as so, you'll realize you can make your own luck."

She was frustrated at his game-analogies. "Is everything a game to you?"

He smiled roguishly—she forgot how sexy he could be when he smiled. "Life is a game, chérie."

The waitress asking if they were ready made Lauren compose her shocked face and hurriedly opened the menu to blurt out the first item she saw. Gambit ordered the same thing; after collecting their menus and a smile at him, she left.

"Do you know who that woman was? Wait. No. First off, how did you get in?" she asked.

"An air vent," he answered smugly. "The idiots put you in a room with a normal air vent where a person can slip through. They didn't think anyone would come after you."

"Thank you for saving me... but about that: how did you know where I was?"

"I saw them take you, and I followed the van to the bunker. For what room they stored you in, I shadowed them and listened through walls. I used to be a thief, so I know how to remain unseen."