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All In:Playing the Fool

By:Lane Hart

Chapter One


Will Reavis


I still couldn't believe my little sister was married, and not just to  anyone. No, Jules's new husband was Dylan, my best friend of fourteen  years, the rich bastard. Ever since I'd lost my wingman a few months ago  I hadn't gone out much. But tonight, I was way past desperate.

While Jules and Dylan were off on their honeymoon in Hawaii, Dylan left  the care of their apartment and his vehicles to me. It was sort of an  old school dowry. I gave him permission to marry my sister, and he let  me live his filthy rich life for a week, including driving his million  dollar Porsche and hundred thousand dollar motorcycle. Well … I had  permission after I had several hours of driving lessons with him, on  both. Unlike Dylan before he hooked up with my sister, I had no qualms  about picking up gold diggers, maybe because I wasn't really rich.

So tonight, my last of living someone else's life, Joe Montgomery (my  new wingman) and I had decided to head out to the clubs downtown in  Dylan's Porsche. Joe was a local criminal defense attorney, and through  my referral had hired my good friend Jess as his legal assistant about  two years ago.

"Damn, this car is hotter than fuck," Joe said, rubbing his fingertips  along the dash and around the buttons and gadgets that took up the  entire center console. Even after riding in it with Dylan several times,  and enrolling in his private driving school, I still didn't know half  of the things this bad ass car was capable of.

"Come on, let me drive it. Just once around the block," Joe pleaded.

"Hell no," I laughed. "I don't trust myself driving it."

"Asshole," he grumbled.

I found a great parking spot right out in front of a club called Sin,  perfect for displaying our ridiculously expensive ride. Easing the car  carefully against the curb, I noticed that heads were already turning in  our direction.

"I don't understand why Dylan hated flashing his fancy shit around when  he was single," I said to Joe, when we climbed out of the car.

"I take it you haven't dated many gold diggers?" Joe asked as we approached the line waiting to get into the club.

"Right, my IT salary draws them in all the time," I said sarcastically  with an eye roll. I was a smart guy and made decent money with my  associates degree, but I'd never be rich.

"Well, take it from me, they suck. Women mistakenly think I'm rich  because I'm an attorney. When they find out I live modestly because I'm  still paying off student loans, suddenly they're no longer interested."

"Do they at least fuck you a few times first?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," he said with a shit-eating grin.

"Then shut the hell up," I snapped, making him laugh.

We finally made it inside the club and headed straight for the bar. I  walked over with Joe, at least. I couldn't drink. That was one of the  non-negotiable rules for driving Dylan's car. I wasn't dumb enough to  take a chance that I'd be okay after a beer or two … not in a car that  cost more than I'd probably make in my lifetime. Hell no. Besides,  getting wasted is not what tonight was about.

Tonight was about finding a woman to hopefully get hot and sweaty with  later, even if it was only for one night. Did I want more? Of course,  but I wasn't ready to get hitched just because all of my friends thought  it was a good idea. Tonight I wanted to find a beautiful woman to get  lost in for a few hours, even if I had to play up the lie that I was a  rich bastard. And looking around, well, there were a ton of beautiful  women in this place. It was May, college was out for the summer, and the  temperature here in the south was way up. That meant that all the  skirts and dresses were short as hell, and some, God bless them, were  bordering on indecent.

Spinning my barstool around, I started searching for a girl that  hopefully wouldn't tell me to go fuck myself. Other than my pretend high  roller status, I didn't have much going for me. I was of average build,  if not slightly short for a man, with plain brown hair. My green eyes  were nothing special, and they were hard to see behind my glasses. I was  lean, but not cut with muscles since I hated the gym.

My entire life I'd been surrounded by friends who I could never compete  with when it came to picking up women. Tyler and Caleb were huge, alpha  males. The two of them could snap their fingers and beautiful girls  would appear as if by magic, ready to screw their brains out. Well, that  is up until they both fell in love with strippers and married them.

Then there was my best friend Dylan, who even without his bank rolls,  could've gotten women with his looks alone. Well, that is if he wasn't  more of the strong and silent type … and if he hadn't fallen hard for my  sister early on.

Coming in fourth place out of four contestants time after time was a  pain in the ass. Now they were all married and if it came down to it, I  was willing to pretend to be a rich prick to pick up a woman. It was an  all-new low for me, but for once I wanted some excitement in my everyday  boring, average life.         

     



 

I tried to let go of all the shit running through my mind, to just sit  back and relax. I was by God going to have a good time tonight if it  killed me. This was my last night living the life of luxury. Jules and  Dylan would be flying back from Hawaii tomorrow, and then I'd have to  head back to my plain, lonely apartment.

My eyes skimmed over to the dance floor, and I quickly became distracted  from my thoughts. It was easy to do, watching the groups of women  shaking their asses to the loud beat of the music. Too bad I couldn't  dance worth a shit, or I'd be all up on some of them trying my luck.  Especially one gorgeous blonde. In the massive sea of scantily clad,  beautiful people, she stood out, lit up by what appeared to be some sort  of ethereal light shining down from the heavens.

"Fuck me," I murmured as I watched her slim hips move. A halo of long,  wavy strawberry blonde hair streamed down over her perfect perky  breasts. They were bulging teasingly from the top of a blue, low-cut  strapless dress. Her arms were thrown above her head, moving  rhythmically like she was lost in the song, while her tan, mile long  legs hung out the bottom of her tiny outfit. The girl was begging for  men to hit on her, yet not a single one ventured within a five foot  radius of her. It had to be because she looked too damn perfect.  Glancing around at the hordes of men sitting on the sidelines like me,  it was evident that plenty of them were also watching her. They all had  to be thinking the same thing I was - she was too fucking beautiful, and  so far out of my league that we weren't even playing the same damn  sport.

"Oh shit," Joe muttered, distracting me from the blonde angel. "My arch  nemesis is here. I swear that woman loves cutting off my balls in front  of my clients."

I followed his line of sight and knew right away which woman he was  referring to. It had to be the petite one standing off to the side,  looking all uptight and proper, and completely out of her element. Her  fiery red hair also made her stand out in a crowd. "She is damn hot  though," I told him.

"Why do you think I put up with her shit?" he laughed. "She's the sex  crimes prosecutor, and lives for screwing defendants over until they  never see the light of day again."

"Those bastards probably all get what they deserve," I replied, thinking  about what my friend Jess and her brother had been through with their  father.

Joe sighed heavily. "Yeah, pretty much. Oh shit! She's heading this  way," he said in a panic, sounding more like a thirteen-year-old boy  than a grown ass, almost thirty-year-old man.

I looked over and watched as he nervously reached up to try and quickly  arrange every one of the shaggy jet black hair's on his head. Dressed in  his usual crisp, gray work suit, he couldn't take his wide blue eyes  off the approaching woman. The man had it bad.

"You want her," I laughed.

"Shut up," he said through clenched teeth under his breath.

"Joe Cool?" the pretty little redhead laughed acerbically with her  approach. "What are you doing here? Scouting for DWI clients?"

"Katie," Joe responded, his expression and tone now bland, giving  nothing away. "Let me guess. You're here scouting for more balls to  bust?" Joe sounded like a complete ass, probably just trying to cover up  how bad he wanted her.

"No, I'm extremely gentle with every other man's balls. Yours are the  only ones I enjoy busting," she said with a smirk. I couldn't contain my  laugh. "And it's not my fault if you make it so damn easy, you cocky  bastard."

I about fell off the stool laughing as the beautiful, sassy woman  sauntered off. Joe looked shocked and speechless rather than his usual  overly-confident, jackass self.

"That … bitch," he said softly, and without feeling.

"You've got it bad for your arch nemesis, and she obviously loathes you. That's hilarious."

"Whatever," he said standing up from his stool with his beer in hand. "I'm heading to the VIP section. You coming?"

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