Juliet stared at him blinking in surprise, feeling as though she had been slapped. Then he continued on.

“Not without telling you everything about myself,” he finished.

Juliet blinked again. “I’m sorry?”

“You have a right to know the full extent of my circumstances before inviting me up to meet your family.”

“Can I take your order?”

Despite the protest of her stomach, which hadn’t been sated since last night’s upset, she almost wanted to tell the waiter to give them ten more minutes. Instead they ordered and waited patiently for him to leave.

“Okay,” she said slowly, once the waiter was gone. She wasn’t sure that she wanted too much realism bursting the bubble of perfection she had created around Chance, despite what had just happened. In some ways, that little episode made him even more exciting.

The only hesitation she’d had about inviting Chance to her parent’s anniversary party was what they would think of him, specifically her father. Chance seemed open-minded enough to handle the quirks of her sisters, and self-secure enough to handle the scrutiny of her parents.

The party was an informal barbecue, which was how her parents preferred it. There were so many people invited, one more wouldn’t be a big deal. At least not as far as her family was concerned. She had wondered how Chance would feel about being introduced to them so early on, then decided to go ahead and feel him out.

Obviously, he had his own reservations.

“When I said I used to play poker, that was a bit of a half-truth. Really, like my dad, I made a living at it.”

“So the oil rig thing is…?”

“I’m gettin’ there,” he said with a dry smile. “That is my brother’s doing.”

She was completely lost. Chance must have seen it on her face.

“My brother and I grew up in the world of poker, mostly underground, usually high stakes, often with…unsavory characters.”

Juliet thought back to Alexi, wondering what the “good news” was that he had wanted to tell Chance. A part of her wasn’t sure she actually wanted to know.

“You mean like…mobsters?” she leaned in closer and whispered the last word as though suddenly fearful they were being overheard.

Chance paused before answering. “For all intents and purposes, yes. But my only involvement was playing poker, not anything more.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I am not in the mafia or rather, Bratva.”

“Bratva?”

“Russian mafia, they are the ones who run things down here in Houston, not the Italians. At least these days.”

Juliet closed her eyes and shook her head. Good God, it was just getting crazier and crazier. Mafia? Bratva? Italians? Russians? She opened her eyes and gave him a curious look.

“I still don’t understand what this has to do with the oil rig.”

“Both Chip and I inherited a little bit of something from our dad. I got my ability to read people, and Chip, let’s just say he got his ability charm people.”

She watched him turn to look out the window of the restaurant. A soft, but weary smile came to his face.

Juliet could tell he was thinking about his brother. She had held the same look of exasperated but unconditional love for her own family on more than one occasion.

“The problem is,” he began before turning back to her, “people like us, who grew up in the world we did, learn how to become great con artists. It was my fault for letting him tag along that one night. I should have known better. He’s not the greatest when it comes to poker, too reckless with his bets. I knew he’d bust early. He’s not the kind you want sitting around bored, especially since Chip has a habit of letting his actions and his mouth run about five miles ahead of his brain.

“At any rate, as predicted he was out of the game early on, which would have been fine if he just knew how to keep himself in check. But he got antsy, and then he got greedy.

“The guy he targeted was an unknown face, so Chip thought he was a slumming mark.” Juliet wrinkled her face in confusion. “Rich suckers who like the thrill of playing an illegal game of poker here and there. Basically, asking to be taken.”

“With anyone else, myself for example, I would have made damn sure…” She watched his eyes darken right along with the expression on his face. Juliet held her breath for what came next. Chance took a moment to close his eyes and exhale before continuing. “Unfortunately, this particular mark was the nephew of someone important. Very important. Dmitri Kosloff.”

“Bratva,” Juliet said, figuring it out.

Chance’s eyes quickly sharpened, then softened as he nodded. “He shouldn’t have been there in the first place, at least not without some of Dmitri’s men with him. Chip took him for a cool twenty grand, in a very calculated and contrived round of pool.”

Juliet gasped. Twenty thousand dollars?

Chance chuckled in response. “Welcome to the underground world. They don’t play in less than four-figure amounts. It was a typical hustle; make the sucker think they’re the ones who are suckering you, then turn the tables on them. If there’s one game Chip is good at, it’s playing people.

“He’s just lucky we’re both still breathing. It wasn’t even the money so much as it was the slap in the face to the guy’s ego. A meeting was called. And since I’m the stupid son of a bitch who brought my brother with me, I got to tag along for the ride. A message needed to be sent. Pride is everything to these guys. All would be forgiven as long as we paid back the money…with interest. . And interest to these guys isn’t what you’ll be paying at your average bank. They basically cleaned both our coffers and then some.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred grand. Each.”

Juliet gasped again. The amounts he was talking in were staggering. Juliet got paid a decent salary as a non-tenured professor at Rice. She had even managed to save up a tidy little sum for the house she would buy someday. Someday when she met the man she wanted to marry. Someday when the practical 20% downpayment could be made. Two hundred thousand dollars was about how much most homes in Houston cost.

“Yeah,” Chance said with a sardonic laugh as he saw her face. Then his face fell. “And no poker at all for two years, even in legit casinos, which was even worse for me.”

“How can they dictate what you do in legitimate casinos?”

Chance gave her a smile that was almost patronizing. “Juliet, if you think most casinos, especially in this part of the country, are squeaky clean, you have a lot to learn about the world of gambling.”

Juliet felt an indignant ripple run through her. “You’re talking about a world I didn’t even know existed, Chance. Sorry, if I’m not up to date on the mafia or Bratva or the super secret underworld of gambling or whatever.”

“Hey,” he said, his brow wrinkling. He reached out to rub her arm apologetically. “I’m not tryin’ to make fun of you. I just want you to get the full picture before you start inviting me into your life.”

She relaxed her shoulders and gave him a nod. “I get it, it’s just…a lot to take in on a first date.” She gave him a soft, grading smile. “Or first and one quarter date.”

He searched her face in that way he did, as though he actually was reading her. Then he nodded, almost to himself, and continued.

“I had some savings. Frankly, I should have been better about that. I guess that’s another thing I took from my dad. Spend the wins, tighten the belts during the losses. Lesson learned, big time. At any rate, I didn’t have nearly that much saved up.”

“The final nail in the coffin was that we could only borrow from the Kosloff family in order to pay them the damn money we owed them back.”

Juliet watched his expression darken as his eyes wandered off thinking about something. “The Russians have never done any favors for my family. They had no qualms about tightening a noose firmly around our necks.”

He left that ambiguous statement hanging in the air before shaking it off and coming back around to her. “So the McCoy boys officially went legit with bona fide day jobs. Thanks to a friend of sorts, Jacob Weinstein, we were able to land these oil rig jobs. They just so happen to pay a pretty penny, which means in a year it should all be paid off.”

Chance looked at her. “So that’s my story,” he said simply.

“So you’re not in the mafia—Bratva, whatever,” she said as more of a statement than a question. “You just happen to have grown up in that world, played at their games, and now owe money to them..”

Chance looked off to consider that. Finally, he shrugged. “I suppose when you put it that way, it doesn’t paint me in a very good light. But it’s the only life I’ve ever known. My dad played poker. My mom, even she comes from that world, in a manner of speaking.” She could sense the deliberate vagueness in that statement but left it alone. The last thing she wanted was more gasoline on this fire.

Juliet gave a slightly hysterical chuckle. All she had wanted was for him to consider driving up to San Antonio to join her at her parent’s anniversary barbecue party. It would have been a fun night of ribs, beer, and music. Even the inevitable meddling of her parents and sisters hadn’t shied her off the idea.

But this? This was a whole can of worms that she hadn’t expected at all.

As if reading her mind, Chance leaned in closer to her. “All I’m about is poker, Juliet. Just a simple game of cards. Sometimes—okay, often—illegally, yes, but that’s the extent of my misdeeds. I’ve never given anyone cement boots, I’m not involved in drugs or prostitution or extortion or any of that stuff you see on the Sopranos or Goodfellas or whatever. I just play poker, and I’m damn good at it.”

Her head went to work, twisting that information-dump around in her brain to make heads or tails of it all.

“I know this wasn’t what you were expecting when you signed on to spend the weekend with someone who is different from your usual type. But you deserve the truth before deciding whether or not you want to continue, especially if it means meeting your family.”

Juliet settled back in her chair. “What was the thing with…Alexi, was that his name?”

Chance’s eyebrows went up at the shift in topic. “The man I originally owed money to, Dmitri, he died.”

Juliet leaned forward in her seat hopefully. Nothing about Chance’s expression led her to believe this was “good news” as the man had suggested, but she was curious about it all the same. “What does that mean for you?”

Chance gave a short laugh that was almost a snort. “Nothing I’m sure. The new guy is Leo Petrov. I know that means nothing to you, but he’s not the type to forgive old debts, especially when it’s his pockets that are now going to be lined. My only real hope is that he won’t worsen the terms.”

Juliet fell back in her seat again. All of a sudden she felt incredibly sheltered. Her family had it’s share of quirks but it was nothing like this.

As though sensing her hesitations, Chance spoke up. “Why don’t you take these two weeks to think about it. In two weeks time I’ll be back at the butterfly center, 10 o’clock, same as yesterday. If I see you there, I’ll know we’re good. If I don’t, no harm done.”

“I’m not saying no, Chance,” she assured him, though the practical part of her brain was starting to puff its chest out a little. “I just—”

“I get it, Juliet. Frankly, I shouldn’t be getting serious either, with everything going on. I’ve got one more year on the rig and can’t afford distractions.”

“So why are we here discussing this?” she asked, a tiny bit of heat to her voice. It was unfair to throw all these curve balls at her then tell her he wasn’t interested.

“The plain and simple truth is, I do want to see you again. And hell, I’m begining to think of you as a distraction that I’d like in my life.”

Juliet poured over those words, her heart leaping out of her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was the excitement of seeing him again in two weeks, or the danger that this world of his posed.

But how would she feel in two weeks?