“That’s nice of them,” I murmur to Stacy as we stand back and watch Deanna, who is bent over the table, concentrating fiercely.
“What, the free booze? I guess.” Stacy smacks her gum and smiles. I don’t know how she’s managed to chew it the entire night without swallowing it by mistake. It probably takes a lot of practice to have shots with gum in your mouth!
“They’re just buttering us up,” Blair cuts in. When I don’t say anything, she responds to my confused look, “Casino managers send over drinks to winners. They want them to get sloppy.”
“Like, drunk?”
“Sure. A sloppy drunk means a sloppy player. Which means the house can win back some money.”
What looked like a generous gesture just mere seconds ago now seems cruel and tainted with some kind of cutthroat ill will.
“Yes!” Deanna’s shout interrupts my foreboding thoughts.
“Black eighteen it is.” The dealer’s even, measured voice confirms another win for Deanna.
“Two-hundred-fucking-thousand dollars.” Deanna rakes the chips towards her.
That’s a lot of money. “Deanna, what about taking a break.” I put a hand hesitantly on her shoulder and she turns ever so slightly towards me, her eyes blazing with excitement. “You have plenty already and maybe—”
“Congratulations again, miss. Champagne?” The cocktail waitress reappears as if from nowhere and deftly steps in front of me.
“Thanks!” Deanna gives the girl a black chip. “Don’t worry, Lilly,” she adds as an afterthought as she turns back to the table.
“I’m fine.” I wave the girl off, gesturing to my full glass. I step away from the table, wanting to be free of the crowd. Deanna’s friends cluster around her with their backs to me.
“Why aren’t ya’ drinking yer drink, girly?” A much older man sidles over and slurs the words at me. He raises his glass to cheers me.
“I’m not thirsty.” I squeak out the words as I feel my face flush. This is very unexpected.
“Isss Vegas, babyyy,” the red-faced man goes on. One hand clutches his drink, with the other he strokes his oversized belly, which hangs over the belt of his pants. “Everyone’s thershty in Vegasss.” He leers at me, barely suppressing a belch as he peers at the neckline of my dress. “Thassa nice dress.”
“Thank you.” I don’t know what to say. I feel awkward and frozen. I cast a desperate look at the roulette table but the others still have their backs turned. From the cheers, I assume Deanna must be doing well.
“Yer a good girl, ain’t ya? Hmm? Not alotta good girls in this town, lemme tell ya.” The man steps even closer. I see his arm leave his belly and come for me, as if he’s about to encircle my waist. I step back, my pulse racing. But before the man can get closer, a figure steps between us.
“I think it’s time for you to leave,” it’s a man’s voice, deep and gravelly. All I can see is the broad shoulders and back of a perfectly tailored dark-grey suit jacket. Looking up, I see a close-cropped head of dark hair, peppered with the faintest flecks of grey at the temples.
“Ahh c’mon buddy, I’s just talkin’ to Laura Ingalls here.” I have to admit, that’s kind of funny that he made the connection. I’d just thought the same thing about my dress.
The mystery man standing between me and the red-faced drunk raises his arm slightly and for a horrifying moment, I think he’s about to punch the guy. “Wait!” I screech, grabbing the raised arm. A muscular bicep twitches under my grip.
“What?” The man turns to me and looks down, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. I gulp. The square-set jaw is tense, indicating clenched teeth, and one eyebrow is raised slightly. His eyes are stormy, so dark they’re nearly black. They’re looking at me as if I were a nuisance.
“Don’t punch him.” I manage to croak out the words. “Please. I didn’t want to make trouble.”
The look of annoyance is replaced by one of surprise as the stern-looking man lets out a bellowing laugh. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly. A gleaming smile, featuring perfectly white, straight teeth, crosses his face. “I was not about to punch him. I was simply getting security.”
He snaps his fingers, once, and then drops his arm. As if on cue, one of the men in dark suits whom I’ve spied roaming the casino floors throughout the evening suddenly appears. Without a word, the security guard takes the red-faced man by the elbow and walks him away. It all