All you had to do was meet Vincent and Antonio to know it.
But they weren’t here and Sal was. And Paulie would never stop his boss if he actually did something. That would be suicide for him and we both knew it. Sal had a violent streak that I’d witnessed first hand. It scared the hell out of me.
I went to the locker that held my purse. I took a sip of water and surreptitiously checked my phone. We weren’t allowed to use them on the floor. I sighed in relief. Mrs. Keeley had checked in every couple of hours like I asked. Jacey was in bed, sleeping. All was well.
Paulie jerked his head and I put my phone away, taking another sip.
“Put on some lipstick.”
I nodded and pulled the drug store lip stain out of my purse. I hadn’t known much about makeup before I started here, other than the very basics. We were supposed to look sexy all the time. That meant smoky eyes that had taken me weeks to perfect, and dark red lips.
Sexy was the last thing I felt. I’d never been the sexy one. I was the good girl back home. The pure one.
The ‘least likely to get knocked up by her high school boyfriend who turned out to be a shit heel’ one.
And yet, here I was.
I walked back out to the floor to finish my shift.
Chapter 3
Lucky
She was back. The angel was floating across the floor and back to her table. She was so graceful, she moved like she was underwater. I got up quickly, careful not to scrape my chair across the floor. I didn’t need to draw too much attention to myself. I also didn’t want to start a stampede for her table.
There weren’t that many people left at this point. It was nearly 4:00 AM. I took a swig of my vodka and slid into a chair at her table, just as she was opening a new deck of cards.
I leaned back in my chair and watched her. I felt predatory. I usually just snapped my fingers and girls came running. But this girl… I had a feeling I was going to have to work for it.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t get what I was after. It just meant I had to be smart about it. And I wanted to make sure she was okay too.
She was even more gorgeous up close. Her face was beautiful, sure. But she was also just… pretty. Really fucking pretty. She looked like a good girl. She looked like she should be wearing a tiara and a Miss America sash instead of a tawdry cocktail waitress costume.
Her eyes were wary when she looked up at the guys who had claimed seats at the table.
“Five-card stud.”
We all chucked our chips into the center of the table. She glanced at me, her hands momentarily still on the cards she was shuffling. For a split second, it felt like I could see right into those gray-green eyes. Past the stiff posture and the bright red lipstick, which looked gorgeous on her, and yet somehow out of place.
Then she looked past me and the moment was broken.
That’s what it was. She looked broken.
I leaned back in my seat, realizing there was a lot more here than met the eye. And for the first time in my life, I wanted to know more. More than just her measurements and how many positions I could get her into. I wanted to know everything.
So I would bide my time. I would watch and wait. I lifted up one corner of my cards and glanced at them before tossing a few more chips in the pot. I had a stone-cold poker face, but something about her made me want to smile.
The angel had dealt me an excellent hand.
The gambling was not fast and furious at this point in the night, but there was still a sense of excitement. It was not even the money or the cards. It was her.
We were all showing off for her. Performing. Her beauty lent another level to the high stakes nature of the game. Almost as if we believed if we played well enough, we’d get a shot at winning her.
I felt it humming through my veins.
The night wore on. It was nearly 5:00 AM now. Her table was the only one still going. Five men sat, mostly slumped in their chairs. Except me. My eyes were on her, unwilling for the night to end.
Despite my distraction, I was winning. Quite a bit. I’d yet to do more than thoroughly eyefuck her or ask for more cards. They flashed the lights, letting us know ‘last hand.’
When I won four thousand bucks in the last pot, she congratulated me.
“You bring me luck.”
She looked nervously over her shoulder and I frowned. Everyone got up from the table except me. I waited, watching her pack up. Paulie came over to collect her lock box. I slid a stack of chips across the table to her.