"We'll have two Manhattans, and a house phone, please." The man nodded and left, appearing again within seconds with a cordless phone.
"VIP reception is extension 442, sir." he said in a European accent. Brad nodding, pressed a few buttons, and then waited.
"This is Brad De Luca. May I speak to Nadine?"… "Yes, Nadine. Do you mind running up to my room? I have a cigar box in the bedroom…" "Yes." "Baccarat." "Thank you." He hung up the phone and passed it back to the waiter, who nodded and left, I presume to get our drinks.
"I've never had a Manhattan."
"It's strong. It might be too strong for you but.."
"When in Rome?"
"Exactly."
The waiter appeared again, holding a silver plate with two martini glasses on it. We took our drinks and chinked them gently. I took a sip.
I couldn't keep the disgust off of my face and fought against a cough. The taste was of straight alcohol and ripped through my throat, a searing, hot liquid. I shook my head and set the drink down, Brad chuckling at my reaction. Really ladylike, Julia.
"Sorry." I held the back of my hand to my lips, shuddering. "That probably wasn't the most ladylike reaction. You actually like that stuff?"
"It's an acquired taste. Want me to order you something else?"
"No. I made my bed, and I'm going to lie in it." I took a baby sip of the cocktail, my second shudder less pronounced than the first. I set it to the side and crossed my legs, putting them dangerously close to Brad's hand, which was resting on his knee. He took notice of my legs, and moved his hand to my upper knee, rubbing it gently. A leggy redhead in a black low-cut dress came over with a box of cigars. Bending over, she opened the box to Brad, but he shook his head at her. She nodded and stood, smiled at me, and then left. Brad's eyes followed the curve of her ass until she was out of sight. I smacked his arm and he turned to me. "What?"
"I'm right here! If you are going to check out other woman, wait until I'm not around!"
He chuckled. "We're headed to a strip club after this. Are you really going to chastise me for checking out another woman?"
"Good point." I clicked my tongue at him.
"Are you one of those women?"
"What women?"
"You know, the jealous type."
"There is a difference between being jealous and being disrespected. You blatantly checking out other women in front of me is disrespectful. I don't care who you check out when you aren't with me."
"Okay, I get that. But, ignoring this specific situation - do you consider yourself a jealous person?"
I thought about the question for a moment, reviewing carefully my dating pasts and the emotions that went with them. My moment turned into two.
Brad sighed dramatically, waiting for my response. I raised my eyebrows at him. "Brutal honesty?"
"Of course."
"I don't know."
"That's your brutal honesty?"
"Well, smartass - give me a minute to explain." I paused again, just to irritate him.
"I have never felt jealousy or possessiveness in any relationship I have ever been in. However - in retrospect, I think part of that may have been due to the fact that I never really loved any of them. I didn't really cared whether or not a relationship ended. I had no value placed on the relationship and didn't care if they were faithful or not. I assumed that they were because I typically placed myself into relationships where I had upper hand. Obviously, my first love left me, so that equation got screwed up somehow - but even when that relationship ended, I wasn't upset at losing him - I was upset at the inconvenience of the breakup. I had planned out a future with him, and would now need a new plan. I was also pissed at the blow to my ego. I wasn't used to being on the receiving end of rejection." I finished in a puff of exhaled air. That might have been too much honesty.
"So you are jealous - you just haven't found anyone worth being jealous of yet?"
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I have never been jealous before. I'll leave it at that. Are you "one of those men?"
"The jealous type?"
"Yes."
"I'm always very interested in my partner's activities. Jealous isn't really the right word."
"Controlling?"
A smile flitted across his mouth. "Yes, I like to be in control."
"In control and controlling are two different things."
"Spoken like a lawyer."
"I'm learning."
A handsome man of average build, tall, with glasses and a shock of silver hair strode up to our table. He was dressed in an expensive suit, and had a wooden box in his hand. Brad's cigar box, I assumed. Brad immediately stood up, beaming. "Philippe!" He grasped the man's hand firmly and clapped him on the back. I stood up as Brad turned to me. "This is Julia. Julia, Philippe." We shook hands.
"Philippe, thank you so much for your help today. I had a wonderful day."
"Glad that you enjoyed yourself. How was Prime?"
"Delicious."
"Julia really enjoyed the seafood tower," Brad said, winking at me. I shot him a glowering look and then smiled at Philippe. "Sit down with us," Brad said, gesturing to the empty seat next to the loveseat.
"No, I won't steal you away from this beautiful woman any longer. I just wanted to bring you your cigars and meet Julia." He passed Brad the box. "I added a few Cubans in there. You looked like you were running low."
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know. You guys skipping Zumanity?" he asked, glancing at his watch, a Rolex.
"Yeah. Next trip. We're going to hang out here for a bit and then hit up Scores or Safirre."
Philippe glanced briefly at me and then smiled at us both. "Well, I'll let you two get back to it. Julia, it was a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise. Thank you again." We shook hands and he left. Brad sat down and opened the box, setting it on the table in front of us. The waiter brought us a tray with a tool of some sort and a lighter. He took Brad's empty martini glance and glanced at mine.
"I - umm… am fine."
"Would you like me to bring you something different?"
"No, I'll suffer through this one a little longer." Brad's lips twitched, as he selected a cigar, pulled off the wrap, and used the tool to cut the end off of the cigar. He passed it to me and then did the same for his cigar. I held the cigar tentatively, not sure how to hold it.
"Have you ever smoked before?"
"Uh… weed, once. Not anything else."
"Okay. Pass me your cigar, I'll light it for you."
He lit the lighter and held the end of the cigar slightly above the flame, rolling it over a few times. He then put the cigar in his mouth and held the flame out from the end of the cigar and inhaled softly, rotating the cigar a bit. The end lit and glowed, lighting up red in the dim bar. He passed me the cigar, telling me to hold it between my thumb and forefinger. I held it as he indicated and looked at him expectantly.
"Don't inhale it. Just let the smoke waft in your mouth for a bit, then open up and lightly exhale it out." I listened carefully and did as he said. "Slowly," he cautioned, as I exhaled the smoke. "Take your time, I don't want you to get sick." He passed me a glass of water and I took a sip. The ice cold water felt good going down my throat. He pushed me back on the couch, tilting my chin up and then moved my cigar-holding hand to the side. "Avoid the smoke," his sexy voice whispered. I breathed in, the clean air going down easily. I heard him lighting up and moments later, his head hit the cushion next to me. I turned my head and was suddenly looking very closely into his eyes. They were so complex, dark brown with reflections of me and hidden fires under the surface. He seemed to constantly be fighting battles in his head and those eyes held all of the emotions. He leaned forward and kissed me softly, then brushed my hair gently away from my face, his eyes following his hand as it tucked a strand behind my ear.
"God, I want to make you bad." he whispered, his hand on my lips, running over them briefly. I laughed softly and closed my eyes, tur
ning my head forward and leaning it to the side, resting on Brad's big shoulder.
"Romantic you are not."
He stiffened slightly, and ran his fingers up and down my bare thigh. "Romance is for relationships, something I don't want. I thought you knew that."
"I did - I do," I correctly myself. "There are just times when it seems you could be a good boyfriend." He didn't respond, and I regretting making the statement.
"Suck on it."
I glanced up, looking at his eyes. They smiled, and looked down at my lit cigar. "You have to suck on it at least once a minute, or else it will go out. Remember, don't inhale, and try not to let the smoke near you." I smiled, and took a quick puff, trying to emulate every gangster movie I had ever seen.
"I've told you why I don't make a good boyfriend, at least not to girls like you."
"Was I a girl when you were between my legs this morning?"
"No, you were all women then. Trust me, you don't have what it takes to be with me."
I looked at him sharply, sucking on the end of my cigar and then petulantly blowing the smoke in his face. He dodged the stream of smoke by ducking down, grabbing my thigh for balance. His hands lingered there, sliding up briefly until they hit my lace panties, and then released. I felt my stomach curl, desire bubbling.
"Julia, it's not an insult. It's a good thing. I date bad girls - you are wholesome and innocent. You will make a great wife for a tax accountant one day."
I grinned at him mischievously. "Like Bob?"
He grinned back. "Like Bob."
"You shouldn't have run him off so quickly then. I'll have to track him back down now." I took a puff, then glanced sideways at him. "I'm not exactly innocent, you know."
"You are innocent to my world. And it's not a world I want to bring you into."
I ground my teeth in frustration, but played it cool, sucking another breath of the cigar. Brad gently pulled it from my hand, setting it on an ashtray.
"Don't smoke any more. I don't want you getting sick on your first time."
I was already a little queasy, but didn't want to admit it. "Fine. You are a control freak."
He looked at me carefully. "Ready to go?"
"What's next on the agenda? Flowers and dancing?"
"Come on, smartass." He stood, stuck his cigar in his mouth, and pulled out his wallet. Peeling off two hundred dollar bills, he dropped them to the table. He held out a hand, helping me to my feet. Keeping my hand in his, he headed for the door. I looked over my shoulder at the cigar box, left on the table. "Brad - the cigars-".
"It's okay. They'll bring them to the room." We left Baccarat and didn't go far, winding among the tables and stopping at one for blackjack. While many of the other tables were crowded, this one had just two people at it. On one end, an obese man with thinning red hair and ruddy cheeks, the other held a lanky man in a suit. Both men had impressive chip stacks; the fat man was smoking. I glanced at the display card and saw that the minimum hand was $200. Brad pulled a chair out for me and I sat, giving the men tentative smiles. They nodded back, no smiles or words of welcome.
---
Tonight she decided to wear a hot-pink thong and matching push-up bra, a rip-away tuxedo minidress over it. Alexis carefully dressed, making sure that she and her outfit looked perfect, flawless. She used to work at a place called the Golden Horse, where the tips were slow, floor was sticky, and the girls looked worn out. She was in the big leagues now, and wasn't about to piss off Sandra, the House Mom, with anything less than perfect attire. She straightened up, did a slow turn in the mirror, and then flashed a smile at her reflection. "Time to make some money," she whispered to her reflection.
--
The dealer's nametag read Xiu - an Asian woman who had a quick smile at Brad and a long look at me. "Need to see I.D." she announced, staring at me. I glanced at Brad, and reached for my purse, pulling out my driver's license and handing it to her. She examined it for four long seconds before nodding and handing it back to me. Brad handed her a card that looked like our room key; she passed it to the pit boss, who had materialized at her side.
"Good evening Mr. De Luca," the pit boss said, taking the card and walking over to a monitor set up behind the dealer. "Would you like a marker?"
"Yes. Four please." The pit boss nodded at the dealer and she begin pulling chips and stacking them in front of her. She slid four stacks of black chips towards Brad, each 10 chips tall. He placed two of the stacks in front of me and leaned over to speak into my ear. "Are you familiar with the game?"
"Yes. I have an app on my phone."
"That isn't really what I was thinking of, but it'll do. Whatever you win is yours. Whatever you lose… I will find a way for you to pay me back." I pulled back and looked at him sharply, and saw the humor on his face. The dealer cleared her throat and I looked back into her impatient face.
"You in?"
"Yes please."
"I need your bet!"
Damn, this bitch is feisty. Brad reached over and took two black chips from my stack, and placed them on the betting line. He shot the dealer a sharp look. "It's her first time here - go easy on her."
"Yes sir, Mr. De Luca." She dealt the cards.
Thirty minutes and two rounds of shots later, our somber tablemates were smiling, our chip stacks had doubled, and even bitchy Xiu had managed to crack a smile. We had slowly raised our bets and I was now betting $600 a hand, and starting to sweat. I was dealt two nines against a dealer six. With my heart pounding, I split the nines. I got an Ace and a two, and doubled down on both. The nine/ace additional card was an eight, the nine/two got a four. Shit. 18 and 15. Not great hands and I had $3000 at stake. Brad nodded at me and followed suit, doubling down on a twelve and getting lucky, pulling a nine. We high-fived and then watched the dealer expectantly. She flipped over her hidden card, another six. I held my breath and the next card flipped over - a Queen of Diamonds. 22. Dealer Bust.
The crowd that had gathered around us burst into cheers and I stood up with both hands raised, whooping. Brad picked me up with a bear hug and swung me around, setting me gently back down. Xiu counted out a rainbow of chips and slid them to me with a small smile. I tipped her $100, my biggest tip EVER and then gathered my chips. "I'm done, " I said to Xiu. Brad looked over, eyebrows raised. "Done?"
"I'm due for a bad turn. Might as well end on a high note."
He shrugged good-naturedly and nodded at Xiu. "Alright, count me out also."
I counted out the $2000 Brad had started me off with and passed them to him. Then I counted my remaining chips. $4800. Holy shit! It more than quadrupled what I had in my bank account. I couldn't keep the grin off of my face and grabbed Brad for another hug. "Ready to cash out?" he asked.
"Yes!"
I kept an iron grip on my chips as we walked through the casino to the cashiers's long bank of windows. A bored cashier counted out my cash and passed it through the window. I looked up to Brad.
"Can we take it up to the room?"
"If you want. Or we can leave it at VIP reception."
I frowned. "Will it be safe there?"
"Yes, I assure you that your funds will not be disturbed. They are used to high rollers, and won't bother your pittance." He grinned down at me.
"Hhmph. Then VIP reception it is." I left my cash with one of the intimidatingly beautiful girls at the VIP desk, snagged a glass of champagne and two chocolate covered strawberries, and walked out to the limo, my arm looped through Brad's. At some point he had abandoned his cigar, but still smelled faintly of the scent. I felt giddy, my winnings still fresh in my mind, and slightly buzzed from the champagne and rich food.
Leonard was laughing with one of the bellmen when we approached. He slapped the man on the back, and hurried over to us. Seeing my big grin he asked, "Baccarat good to you?"
"The tables were good to us," Brad said, steering me towards the car door Leonard was holding open.
"Where to?"
"Safirre," Brad tossed ou
t, climbing into the car after me.
---
The man's hands were way too friendly. Alexis straddled the sweaty, overweight, tuxedoed man. His eyes glazed over in lust, fixed on her breasts, which she kept shaking in front of his face. Every time he started to lean forward, she flipped her hair over, leaning back, out of his reach. But his hands she was having more trouble controlling. They kept wandering from his sides and grabbing her hips and ass. She could feel the outline of his small dick, pressing insistently up. His hands moved again, touching her flat stomach. She signed and spun around, her eyes searching until they met Ricky, the big black bouncer assigned to her section. She nodded, and he started her way. So much for this tip. She'd been working this guy for twenty minutes now. Ricky hustled in and grabbed the fat guy's arm.
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