Stroke of Luck

The woman rolled a few times. On the second roll, a five came up and Austin won. The chips on the other numbers weren’t cleared away, though. April was confused by the goings-on, with people adding chips, winning chips, then suddenly, all the chips were cleared away, and the man who’d been calling out the rolled numbers in a humorous banter called, “New shooter!” again.

April lost track of what was going on as the dice rounded the table.

She glanced around as someone stepped up beside her. It was Quinn.

“What’s going on? I expected to find you at your favorite table,” he said to Austin.

“I decided to go for a change,” Austin said, placing another bet.

“But this table … you haven’t had great luck here.”

“No one has, but I believe that’s about to change.”

“Are you up?”

Austin shook his head. “No, down about a third. But I’ve got a feeling.”

“It’s your money,” Quinn said with a good-natured smile as he settled in beside April.

After a few more rolls, Quinn started betting, too. Finally, the dice wound up in front of Austin. Austin’s stack of chips had gone down a little more. He picked up the dice, then turned to April.

“I want you to roll. You’re going to bring me luck.” He smiled encouragingly as he placed the white dice in her hand.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she protested.

Austin placed six red chips on the pass line. Quinn also set several chips down, as did other players.

“You don’t have to. Just throw the dice so they bounce off the other side of the table. That’s it.”

She bit her lip, aware of everyone watching her. She tossed the dice and watched them hit the side, then bounce back across the table. They rolled to a stop. Six and five.

Murmurs of approval rippled around the table, and everyone who had chips on the pass line received more chips. Austin got his original five reds plus five more reds.

He tightened his arm around her and smiled. “You’re doing great.”

He pushed all ten reds back in place. Quinn also kept all his chips, including winnings, on the table.

“Roll again,” Quinn said.

She picked up the dice and tossed them again. They bounced to a stop with a three and a six. The staffer behind her slid a white disc labeled On to the nine in the strip of numbers at the top of the table.

“April, pick a number from those ones at the top. Other than the nine.”

“Um … eight,” she said.

Austin pushed a stack of chips onto the eight. Her stomach fluttered at the thought he could lose all that if she’d picked a bad number. Quinn placed chips on eight, and also on five and six. Other players placed chips on various places on the table.

She rolled the dice, praying for an eight to come up. But instead a four and a one appeared. She glanced at Austin, stricken.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t lose anything. And Quinn won.”

Quinn slid his arm around her waist above Austin’s and squeezed her lightly.

“Thanks, baby,” Quinn said with a smile, then drew his arm away again.

He pushed his winnings onto ten. Other players added bets.

No one had called for a new shooter, so she picked up the dice and tossed them again. She had to admit, this was kind of fun.