Betting on Hope by Kay Keppler

McNaughton. Thank you for seeing me.”
    “Yeah,” Big Julie said, dropping into a sofa. The bathrobe gapped open over his bulk, and Hope quickly averted her eyes.
    We’ve barely been introduced, and already I have too much information.
    “Siddown, siddown,” Big Julie said irritably, readjusting his robe. “Whaddaya wanna drink?”
    “Oh, thank you, nothing,” Hope said as she sat down again. She smiled, focusing on his face. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time, but Marty said I should explain.”
    “Explain what? Drake, get her an orange juice. Or a Snapple. We got some good Snapple—lemonade, peach tea, whatever you want.”
    “Um, well, plain iced tea would be good if you have it.”
    “Drake, see if we got that. Okay, now explain.”
    Drake glided away again.
    “I understand that at your poker game a week ago, you played with Derek McNaughton, and you won a ranch from him.”
    A smile lit Big Julie’s face.
    “I sure did. That guy don’t quit, I gotta give him that. But he didn’t have the cards that night. You know this guy?”
    “He’s my father,” Hope said.
    “Oh,” Big Julie said. “Bad luck for you.”
    “You don’t know the half of it.” Hope paused while Drake brought in her iced tea, and she took a sip while he settled in a chair in the background.
    “My family lives on that ranch,” Hope said.
    “So what is it you would like me to do?” Big Julie said. “Assuming I can do it, or want to do it, or will do it, which is not certain yet. Because I am guessing that if you know I got the ranch, you know I got a buyer lined up. A company that specializes in destination entertainment.”
    Hope nodded, feeling her stomach clench, knowing that she had to play her hand with everything she had, and be lucky, as well. And sitting across from this tired, hung-over, semi-naked Mafioso, she didn’t believe that the odds were on her side.
    “The lawyer I talked to said the place is worth two million dollars,” she said. “My family doesn’t have anywhere near that kind of money, Mr. Saladino, but we love that ranch. We’ve always lived there. We’d be heartbroken to leave it.”
    Big Julie finished his Bloody Mary with a slurp through the straw and put the empty glass on the end table.
    “Yeah, see, I’m not in the charity business,” he said. “Tell Marty I’m sorry about your loss and all, but I won that ranch fair and square.”
    “I’m not asking for charity, Mr. Saladino,” she said. “I want to play you for the ranch.”
    Big Julie’s eyes opened a little wider. “What?” he asked.
    Go for it now. Hope unbuttoned her jacket and leaned forward, putting her glass on the table in front of her. She watched him while his eyes drifted toward the pink camisole. Excellent .
    “In next Saturday’s card game,” she said. “I want to play. You win, you take my stake, you keep the ranch. I win, I get the ranch.”
    Big Julie stared, but he didn’t budge.
    “I don’t think so,” he said. “There’s already eight in the game. Anyways, I got a buyer.”
    Hope took off her jacket, turning to lay it on the back of the sofa, letting Big Julie get an eyeful of pretty much everything she had.
    “I understand,” she said, crossing her legs and smiling. “Still, turning the property into an entertainment destination will be complicated. The sale isn’t a simple cashout. There’ll be leveraged stakeholders, stock options, maybe bonds to float, perc and land tests, permits, contingencies, covenants, restrictions, valuations, who knows what. You can’t get it done in a week. You can’t get it done in a month. Maybe several months. Even years. It’s a lot of work. Maybe more work than the property’s worth to you.”
    Big Julie had torn his eyes away from the pink camisole while she’d been talking, but now that she’d wound down, he was staring at her chest again. Back in the game .
    “I’m just asking you to let me play.” Hope recrossed her legs. Not that