“The girl’s on fire!” exclaims Mike.

“Which number next, Becky?” demands another of the stag guys.

“Tell us, Becky!”

“Becky!”

“What do we bet, Becky?”

Everyone’s waiting for me to bet again. But I’m not looking at the wheel anymore. I’m looking at my chips and doing a quick sum. Two hundred…four hundred…plus another…Yes! I can’t resist a tiny fist pump.

“What?” demands one of the stag guys eagerly. “What you got for us, Becky?”

I turn to the croupier with a triumphant smile. “I’m cashing in, please.”

“Cashing in?” Mike’s jaw drops. “What?”

“I’ve done enough gambling.”

“No, no, no!” Mike is practically gibbering in dismay. “You’re on a roll. You play! Play on!”

“But I’ve made eight hundred dollars,” I tell him.

“That’s great! Keep going, girl! Put your chips down!”

“No, you don’t understand,” I say patiently. “Eight hundred dollars gets me this gorgeous jacket for Luke.”

“What jacket?” Luke looks puzzled.

“I saw it in Armani, when I was going round the Shoppes. It’s gray cashmere. Let’s go and look at it.” I squeeze his arm. “It’ll so suit you.”

“A jacket?” Mike looks uncomprehending. “Honey, are you insane? You’ve got the magic touch! You can’t leave the table now!”

“Yes, I can. That was my strategy.”

“Your strategy?”

“Luke said, have a strategy. So I decided my strategy was: Win enough money to buy the Armani jacket. And I have.” I beam triumphantly. “So I’m stopping.”

“But…but…” Mike seems almost speechless. “You can’t stop! You’re on a winning streak.”

“But I might not win anymore,” I point out. “I might lose.”

“You won’t lose! She’s winning, right?” He looks around at his friends for support.

“Becky for the win!” chimes in one of them.

“But I might start losing,” I explain carefully. “And then I won’t be able to afford the jacket.”

Don’t they understand anything?

“Becky, don’t go.” Mike drunkenly puts an arm round my shoulders. “We’re having a blast, aren’t we?”

“Oh, it’s been fab,” I say at once. “You’ve been great company. And I do enjoy gambling, kind of…but I’ll enjoy buying Luke this jacket more. Sorry,” I add politely to the croupier. “I don’t mean to be rude. You’ve got a lovely roulette table.” I hear Luke give a sudden snort of laughter. “What?” I demand. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing, my love,” he says, picking up my hand and kissing it. “Except I wouldn’t worry about your descent into gambling-addiction hell just yet.”

—

The jacket looks amazing on Luke. I knew it would. It’s very close cut and slimming and brings out the chocolaty highlights in his hair. I can see all the assistants watching in admiration as he comes out of the changing room and looks at himself in the big mirror. I’m only sorry Danny isn’t here to admire him too, but he’s still gambling with the stag night guys.

“Perfect!” I say. “I knew it would suit you!”

“Well, thank you,” Luke says, beaming at his reflection. “I’m very touched.”