Double or Nothing: Sin City Kings by Heather Carmel

Author:Heather Carmel [Carmel, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

22

JADE

Thirty-six hours later in the basement of Platinum…

“It’s time to take a break,” Natasha says firmly. She places a steaming hot mug of black coffee on the table beside the Peggy Penguin slot machine. “I insist. You need sleep and real food. You must stop working.”

“Only a few minutes longer,” I reply. I reach over and take a sip of the coffee. “Thank you. The coffee will work wonders to perk me right up again. It’s a miracle drug.”

“Living on coffee and donuts is no good,” she says, frowning down at me. “Tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll get it for you. But only if it is healthy food.”

“I’m not hungry,” I say truthfully. “Or tired.”

She glances around the empty basement. “Where are your bodyguards? I thought one was supposed to be with you at all times?”

“That was their ridiculous rule, not mine,” I reply. “They’re making me nervous, sitting there watching me every second. I sent Kit upstairs in search of orange juice, hoping you would sneak down while he was gone and bring me coffee instead. And here you are, being a lifesaver.”

She gives me a worried look. “We’ve waited this long to learn the secrets of Peggy Penguin,” she says. “A day or two more won’t make a difference. Please eat. It makes me worry when you don’t eat. You’re too thin.” She touches my forearm. “Your arms are too skinny. Why won’t you come upstairs to sleep on the sofa in Eva’s office? It’s more comfortable than a cot. I will stand guard outside the door to make certain you are not disturbed by dancing men wearing thongs.”

I laugh and take another sip of coffee. Natasha is a mystery that I can’t figure out. Who could ever imagine the beautiful, blonde to be the motherly type?

Yet, here she is.

Hovering over me constantly, like a worried Momma Hen. Every few hours she comes downstairs into the basement carrying trays of assorted snacks, muffins, candy bars and coffee to tempt me.

Last night, she hauled down a deep-dish pizza in a cardboard box. She scolded me when I reached over to grab a slice of pizza with my left hand while still typing nonstop with my right. I didn’t want to stop long enough to eat.

I’ve been working on reverse engineering the code for thirty-six hours straight. I’m so close now, I can taste it. The finish line is in sight, and I won’t stop until it’s done.

“I’m fine, really,” I say, trying to reassure her. “I’m used to working without sleep for long stretches of time. In college, we would do three all-nighters in a row while cramming for exams. We also did weekend team coding contests. Those were the worst. Sometimes we’d fall dead asleep right onto our laptops in the middle of the competition.”

“You did those contests for fun and not money?” she asks, lifting her eyebrows in question. “Why would you do that?”

“For the challenge and also to prove something,” I explain. “Most of my classmates were male, so it was always a double victory when our all-girls team won.

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