Once I was safely in the hall, I pulled out my phone and checked it. Nothing peeved me more than people who let their bright screens ruin other people’s experience in a movie theater, so between traveling and arriving, I hadn’t had time to check it in ages.
There were still quite a few emails from work, but all of those could wait until tomorrow. I saw I had a couple of text messages, so I clicked on that first.
One was from the local burrito joint telling me about a special. I realized, given my net worth, using a coupon on a ten-dollar burrito bowl wasn’t going to affect me one way or the other, but my frugal nature had been passed down by my mother so I wasn’t going to shake it anytime soon.
But the second text was from Clarissa.
Great.
Clarissa was a beautiful, intelligent and capable woman that I had met in a conference about five years back. Unfortunately, she also happened to be madly in love with me.
She often tried to hide it, and I certainly didn’t do anything to encourage it, but sometimes you couldn’t help what you felt. Once, long ago, she had been my booty call, and while she still tried to reconnect every now and then, I always refused her.
I quickly messaged her that I was in Vegas and I hoped that she was doing well then tucked my phone away.
But her message had me remembering all the nights we used to spend together, entangled around each other’s bodies. Sweating, moaning, exploring.
Shaking my head, I decided to head to that same overwrought bar. My gin and tonic was almost empty anyways.
I stopped as I headed into the casino side of the building, looking around and taking it all in. The lights, the smells, the sounds. I could see how people were taken in and left with nothing by its unforgiving bosom.
I, however, wasn’t really interested in gambling tonight. Instead, I was much more about getting my drink on, so I continued my trek back to the bar.
All was going well, no surprises or anything like that, but as I approached the old watering hole, my eyes caught on a particular woman sitting there.
She was in a nice white blouse and a black pencil skirt, sensible heels on her feet, although one of them had fallen to the floor behind her stool. Her jet-black hair was done up in a braided crown around her head, and while I couldn’t see her full face, I could tell that she was looking into her wallet furtively, counting something while the bartender waited there somewhat impatiently.
I didn’t know what struck me about her, but there was definitely something. Maybe it was her round ass as it perched atop the stool, maybe it was the proud but somewhat defeated slump to her shoulders. Either way, without even deciding, my body took me over to the bar, where I leaned on the counter and addressed the bartender.
“I’ll take care of what she’s having,” I said, placing my empty glass on the bar. “And I’ll take a refill on the gin and tonic.”
The woman looked up at me, surprised, her almond eyes blinking slightly. She was wearing minimal, professional-esque makeup, but her cat eyeliner emphasized the interesting shapes of her features. If I had to guess, she was most likely mixed race, maybe Asian or Latina and definitely Caucasian.
“You looked like you could need a change of luck,” I said simply, giving her a bit of a shrug.
For a moment, I was sure that she was going to tell me to step off, but instead she sighed and gratefully took the drink the server slid to her.
“You’re more right than you know.”
Chapter Three
~Nicole~
Of all the things I had expected to happen at the Casino, it was not a tall, devastatingly handsome man approaching me and buying my drink when the magnetic strip of my card gave out.
I couldn’t believe it, and I had to blink multiple times to be sure that what I thought was happening was indeed happening. But sure enough, the guy was taking care of my drink and getting one of his own.
At first, I thought he was going to proposition me, or tell me that I owed him or something, but instead he just turned to me with an understanding look and said that I looked like I could use one.
Who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth. I agreed, and hastily started drinking the beverage before he could try to change his mind and take it back.
“Huh, I didn’t know you needed it that badly,” he said, a wry smile on his face.
It was funny, his voice was low and borderline threatening, but his tone was jovial, and his expression was inviting. It was like when professional fighters or wrestlers were polite. You could see that they were being sweethearts, but their intense muscles and scars often spoke otherwise.