Vegas With Dad's Best Friend

Once she is seated at the machine, and I at another one beside her, a waitress materializes as if out of thin air beside us. She asks us what we want, and we order a couple of drinks. It's not only until after she's gone that Savannah turns to me and asks how much it will cost, with a concerned expression on her face.

“Oh, they’re free,” I tell her, smiling at her lack of experience here. “We just have to tip the waitress.”

“Really?” Savannah asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. It’s one of the ways the casino makes you stay longer. The free drinks keep coming, and if you order alcohol, you end up losing some of your inhibitions and betting more.”

“I wish I’d known that,” Savannah says, flashing me an excited grin. “I’d have ordered something more expensive than a soda.”

“There’s always next time,” I say, digging a couple of dollar bills out of my wallet as I see the waitress approaching again.

It isn’t long before I get a lucky win, finding a great windfall splashing out of the slot machine and down into the tray below. It's not quite as dramatic as it used to be when I was younger, because you don't actually win coins anymore. In fact, you just win a slip of paper, but still, the number printed on it is big and impressive enough. I wave it in the air excitedly, Savannah’s enthusiasm rubbing off on me, and show her what I won.

“Look at this,” I say. “You must be my good luck charm.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Isn’t it just a coincidence? You always win on these things sooner or later.”

“Quite the contrary,” I laugh. “The idea is to make you win small so you keep going in search of something big. Most of the time, you’ll come out of the casino with less money than when you went in. But this is great. I only bet a dollar this time, and this is the big jackpot.”

“Well, it’s not like it would happen lots of times in a row just because I’m here,” Savannah says, but her laughter fades slightly as she pushes the button and a giant win flashes up on her machine as well. “… Oh.”

“Now there’s no denying it!” I laugh, slipping an arm around her waist and kissing along her neck. “You’re my good luck charm. I should keep you around more often.”

There’s amusement and excitement in Savannah’s eyes, but when she turns to look at me, I see something else, too, a touch of sadness.

It's easy enough to guess why. She thinks that after this week, we might not see each other again. In theory, I guess she's right. There is a chance that this might be the end of things. But not if I have anything to say about it. We just have to figure out how we can move along together after this, given that we're supposed to live states away from one another.

It won't matter. I’m determined to be with her, I am not going to let her slip out of my grasp even for a second. Me and her, we’re the real deal. I know it, and I think that deep down inside she knows it too.

I just have the rest of the week to make sure that the message hits home as well and hard as it can.

I check my watch after hours spent in the casino and realize with a pinch of disappointment that the time is getting on. It's easy to see how people just lose themselves here, we've eaten at the buffet, played slots and blackjack, tried our hand at one round of poker which ended disastrously, and walked around admiring all the things on display. We caught a little show in the bar, though it wasn't exciting enough to hold my attention for long - I found myself watching Savannah instead of the dancers on the stage.

But all of that means that now, the evening is over. There's no reason for us to stay here anymore. And that means we have to go back to our hotels.

As much as I want to be with her every second of the day, it just isn't going to happen tonight. Because if it does, I know for a fact I won't be able to keep my hands to myself. And I promised her something special. That's not going to happen without a little bit of planning and a little bit of time.

Thankfully, the fact that I have an assistant to take care of most of the heavy lifting for me means that I'm fairly confident I can whip something up for tomorrow without any problems. But it still means that tonight is out of the question.

“Well,” I say, pausing outside the lobby of her hotel. “I should let you get some rest.”