From the last chapter

Anthony put an arm around Stephano’s shoulder and guided him back to the body of guests who were indulging in all that was on offer on the deck of his yacht. His few moments of private reverie were over, his need to mingle necessary.
 
     He rubbed shoulders as a good host does, but then he stopped in his tracks when he saw her. Without doubt one of the most beautiful women to have set foot on his yacht, Alisha, a longhaired brunette with a face and figure to die for, locked eyes with him whilst making polite conversation with the group surrounding her and her husband.
 
    





Anthony recognised him immediately. An ex-rival of sorts, Michael Dupris had shared a competitive poker table with Anthony on several occasions in the past. When he’d met him at the casino on the same evening he met Charlotte, he’d invited him to the party without thought. Although he hadn’t seen Michael play for a while, Anthony had a healthy respect for a man who knew the game as well as he did.
 
     ‘Michael!’ he exclaimed, his free hand outstretched. ‘I’m so glad you could make it. You should have let me know you were here as soon as you arrived. I hope my friends have been looking after you.’
 
     Michael’s delight at being made to feel welcome was obvious. ‘May I introduce my wife, Alisha?’ he asked as he put his arm around her shoulders. ‘We’re only in town for a few days, so I’m glad she’s able to meet you at last. She’s probably bored to death with the stories I’ve told her about some of our escapades. At least she can now put a face to the name.’
 
     Anthony extended his hand to Alisha in the same way as he had to Michael. When her fingers locked convivially with his, he assumed she was purely going through the motions—or was she? Anthony was sure there was a spark of some sort in her eyes when he grasped her hand. Or was that just his male ego talking? If she had displayed a flash of interest, there was no evidence of it now.
 
     ‘It’s good to meet you at last,’ she told him as she extracted her hand from his and hooked it back through her husband’s arm.
 
     ‘Well, I hope you’re having a good time. Where are you staying while you’re here?’
 
     A glance passed between Michael and Alisha that alerted Anthony immediately. A story of some sort had obviously been agreed—but Alisha’s hesitant answer was a giveaway. ‘We’re staying at a hotel in town, but I doubt that you know it.’
 
     The way she looked at him was almost like a plea, which made Anthony realise that asking further questions would only cause embarrassment. Playing poker had taught Anthony more about body language than the average psychiatrist. A place he probably wouldn’t know? That meant it was a dive. In the early days, when money was tight but a good game was on offer, he had stayed in several low-cost, seedy joints in whatever city he was in. If you were up all night playing poker, a downtown hotel would suffice to get your head down during the day.
 
     ‘Well, if you want to join me here on the yacht, then you’re more than welcome. I’m here by myself until I go to Italy at the end of next week, so I would welcome the company. Just say the word, and I’ll get Ricky to prepare the guest suite.’
 
     Michael looked momentarily taken aback. ‘Are you sure? We wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.’
 
     Anthony didn’t hesitate before assuring Michael it would be no trouble at all. Ten years ago he was in the place Michael was obviously now. If it hadn’t been for an Italian mother who made every homecoming, whatever the circumstances, make him feel like the most cherished person on earth, he didn’t doubt he would have given up and joined the ranks of the unemployed before sinking into oblivion with a bottle of some sort gripped firmly in his hand. As he remembered those days of austerity, he almost crossed himself. Since then, he had looked out for anyone who might be experiencing the same kind of humiliation.
 
     ‘Of course, if you’re happy where you are, then I quite understand, but I haven’t seen you for at least two years, Michael, so I'd love to catch up while you’re in town.’
 
     Alisha’s relief was immediately apparent. Her shoulders relaxed, and her smile conveyed a thank you of sorts that Anthony understood. ‘Never kick a man when he’s down,’ was his motto, and it was obvious that something had thrown the kind of curve ball every gambler dreaded, in Michael’s direction. Just like Stephano, it sometimes only took one disastrous game to bring you down. The fact that Michael’s wife had piqued his interest might have been his first reason for offering alternative accommodation, but sensing their need to retain their dignity had now taken over. Anthony had never chased after a married woman in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now. God knows, his ex-wife knew his feelings with regard to that and was now single as a result of her own infidelities. When Michael told Anthony they would be delighted to take him up on his offer, he was glad he’d made the suggestion.
 
     Anthony's eyes searched across the deck until he saw Ricky chatting to a group by the bar.  He didn’t doubt the guest suite was as immaculate as ever, but he'd better let him know as a matter of protocol that it was about to be occupied. Ricky was his right-hand man, and although his employee, was more of a friend. At least Anthony believed he was. He could rely on him to keep his ears to the ground and his lip buttoned, whatever the circumstances.
 
     ‘Ricky!’ he called out as soon as their eyes met.   
 
     After excusing himself to the couple he’d been talking to, Ricky weaved his way across the deck until he was at Anthony’s side.
 
     ‘I’d like to introduce you to Michael and Alisha. They’re going to be staying with us for a few days while they’re in town.’
 
     Almost like a son offering respect to the friends of a parent, twenty-six year old Ricky gave the couple a similar warm welcome to the one offered by Anthony.
 
     ‘Welcome aboard. Are you staying tonight? If you are, it’s not a problem. The guest suite is ready and waiting.’
 
     Again an embarrassed look passed between Alisha and Michael.
 
     ‘Well, we still have our things at the hotel, so I suppose tomorrow would make more sense. What do you think, Honey?’ Michael asked Alisha.
 
     If there had been a way of staying the night without giving the game away, Alisha would have jumped at the chance and returned to their secreted RV and packed a case there and then, but she knew it was out of the question. However much their nomad existence of the last three months had worn her down, their need to appear solvent and respectable was necessary if Michael was going to find a decent game to play while they were in town.
 
     ‘Yes, tomorrow sounds good to me…’ she agreed, before nodding another thank you in Anthony’s direction…