The Warmest Winter✓

Ten

"Seriously, who stole my luck?" Malik snaps after another failure on the poker machine.

We're all inside the casino after a decent dinner we've had. Laughing, I make my way toward Liam. Each time I tried playing with these monstrous machines, I failed miserably. Well, except for my first trial that came as smooth as a cheesecake.

"I bet you had none to begin with," replies Roshni with a chuckle, talking to Malik. They are all seated in a row, as though they are working in the office computers.

Liam is seated cross-legged on the sofa, farther from the rest. He's the chaperone here—I smile.

"Ugh! I'm so done!" Sam grunts irritably. "I feel like these slots are cheating big time. I mean, none of us won a big thing up to now?" She shares a nod of agreement with Malik.

"Why don't you give it a try, Liam?" Roshni suggests quietly, watching Liam on the other side. "Only you haven't tried this."

"No, thank you." Liam smiles kindly, stretching his arms as I join him. "But try changing the slot, and go randomly. Also, check out for bonuses." he tells them.

"Oh?" Sam utters wistfully. "Does that work?"

"I'm not sure." Liam shrugs. "But it wouldn't hurt to try, would it?" He's back onto his mobile.

"I swear if I don't win this time I'm going to sue them," Malik snaps and I laugh loudly. "This is not okay at all." He's still rumbling nonstop.

"Who will you sue? The hotel?" I muse, and this precious laughter we all share is enough of success for my night.

Taking a seat next to Liam, I see him frowning at the call on his cellphone. He doesn't pick it, however, which makes my eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Is it from work again?" I ask him when the call ends.

"No," he answers vaguely. I glare at him. "It's from—" He pauses upon the text that has just arrived.

"From who?" I insist urgently. I feel like I'm not going to like the answer.

Why am I being suspicious, though? I can't help but reprimand myself. And at the back of mind I remember the same reaction back in Los Angeles when some caller kept bugging him.

But it was from work at that time. Is it the same this time? No, he clearly said it's not from the office—so then who's calling him? And why is he mad instead of picking up? Am I petty?

Liam shoves his phone aside. "She's no one important," he answers at last.

"A she?" I think out loud, my voice unrestrained. "It's a woman?" I clarify my question.

"Kira." Liam laughs wittingly, pulling my now stiff body to his side. I yield reluctantly. "Yes, it's a she . . . but not the kind of she you are satirically imagining." He looks amused but I'm not.

"What do you mean?" I frown.

"I mean, she's not related to me."

"Why is she calling you then? And even texting you." My tone rises, exasperated.

Oh, I think I'm getting out of hand and it's the image I don't want to show on the first night with him in this beautiful city.

Liam sighs heavily. "Well—"

"Who is she, Liam?" I pull myself out of his grip, facing him intently.

"Oh God. Must you know, Kira?" he asks, his eyes mocking.

"You must be kidding me, Liam Darcy! Yes," I answer sternly, and somehow our friends catch our voices. I tone down. "Now more than ever because you're being very suspicious right now. I trust you, baby, but don't make me distrust you even a little bit. Who is that woman, Liam?" I ask calmly.