Fantasy Friday

by Annalise Wells

He laughs. “I understand Ma’am. I will tray your chips, and you can collect them from me in a moment,” he says, still smiling his casino smile.

  “Thank you,” I say, still in shock.

  I walk over to Alex and put my hand on his shoulder. I lower my head and whisper as the dealer is shuffling the cards. “I’ve just won on roulette.”

  “Well done,” he says.

  “Did you know one of the chips was a thousand?” I ask.

  “I didn’t notice, I thought they were all one hundred.” He watches the dealer, trying to concentrate.

  “I put it on my birthday number,” I whisper.

  “So, you lost a thousand, it happens,” he says, unperturbed.

  “No, that’s the one I won with.”

  Alex turns his head toward me. His eyes widen, and I see he is in shock about what I’ve just told him.

  “You mistakenly dropped a thousand chip on a single number, and you won?” he asks.

  I nod my head. “I think that’s what happened,” I say, smiling a wide smile.

  “That’s a thirty-five to one payout,” he says. “Thirty-five-grand.”

  I nod my head and smile through tightened lips. “I know, that’s why I want to puke.”

  “Lady Luck, who would have thought she would arrive from a mistake.”

  Alex

  “A woman’s intuition can be really scary to a man.”

  I turn my face back to the poker table. I hope that Brooke’s luck rubs off on me, and in the back of the mind, I hope she gives me the thirty-five-grand. I need it and that will help to put back some of the losses.

  I look at the cards as Brooke puts her hand on my shoulder. I feel something, and I’m not sure if it’s relief or just the feel of her touch, but the cards look different to me, now.

  I don’t have any gray areas, it all seems clearer. I put the cards face down and raise. I look at the other players through my expressionless gaze. I had learned through years of practice how to read those small signs; the twitches and the ticks that people had when they had a good, or a bluff hand.

  It was this that I’d lost, and now it seemed to have returned, maybe Brooke was my salvation, after all. The pot steadily grows, and the dealer deals out another card. I look blank and stare at the other players. All they would see from me was piercing eyes, with no blinking or looking in any direction, least of all, toward my cards.

  I raised again, this time it was two thousand. I only had two grand left in chips, so this hand would have to be all in, and hopefully, it would go down to just me and one other player.

  Three of them fold. The dealer turns the final card. I knew without looking what hand I had. The third player folds; it’s now down to a chubby guy and me. He wasn’t an oil guy, he was wearing too much gold for that, maybe a rancher type. He would have a fair bit of cash, but not enough to just throw it around like water. I doubted that.

  I watched as he kept his face solid. I could see a small bead of sweat just starting to fall from the side of his brow. Chubby guys were great to play with, they could not stop themselves from sweating in the heat of the moment.

  It was down to me. Without looking, I pushed all the chips to the center of the table. “All in,” was all I muttered.

  I never even looked at the pot, but I guessed it was upward of thirty-grand, and at a stretch, it may reach forty. The chubby guy raised his fat hand and wiped the back of his hand against his head. The ball was firmly in his court.

  I had nothing to lose, Brooke had won thirty-five, and I still had five-grand in my back pocket. Chubby looked at his cards again. I never flinched. I could see this was a crucial hand for him, he only had a stack of chips that was two or three-grand, at most.

  He could cut his losses and give it another shot, or he could risk it all and try and beat the hand that I had.

  Come on chubby, make your fucking play…

  One trick I had learned a few years ago, was to picture the other players naked. When I smiled, this made them feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t a friendly smile. It was a, “What a small cock you have,” sort of smile.

  I gaze as I see him pick up his cards, his lips move as he mumbles to himself. He finally crumbles and throws his hand on the table.

  “God damn it,” he yells.

  The dealer pushes all the chips in my direction. I stack them up and smile to each of the players.

  Chubby calls from over the table, “You can’t just walk out, you have to give me a chance to win my money back.”

  “Not today, the lady is not feeling well,” I reply.

  I toss a hundred chip to the dealer. He tips his head in appreciation.

  Brooke holds my arm to steady herself. “I still feel all dizzy,” she says, helping me with my out.

  “It can take a bit of getting used to,” I reply.

  We walk away from the table with my extra winnings. “What hand did you have anyway?” Brooke asks.

  “Nothing, I was bluffing,” I reply, laughing.

  “You bluffed?”

  “Yeah, he was sweating,” I reply.

  “So, that doesn’t mean you should bluff,” she says, shocked by my admission.

  “I had your luck flowing through me,” I say.

  We reach the roulette table and the dealer hands Brooke her tray of chips.

  She hands them to me. “Here, have your winnings,” she says plainly.

  “Take some, you earned it,” I reply.

  “I don’t want it, I will settle for lunch. I think you need this more than I do,” she says.

  Hmm, I need it more than you think.

  I stand at the counter as the cashier converts the chips. There is just under forty-grand from Brooke, and I have thirty-seven-grand from the poker table, as well. Not bad for a few hours work.

  Seventy grand I could replace for Shona. That was a real weight off my shoulders. The kitty was back up, I just had to keep away from the tables.

  “What do you want for lunch?” I ask.

  Brooke looks at me plainly. “Anything not too heavy, I feel all woozy from my win… and yours,” she says.

  “Let’s just get out of here and see what we pass.”

  I help Brooke into the Jeep. She fastens the bandanna around her head. I pull on my shades and start to drive. The afternoon breeze blows over the top of the Jeep, and the sun is starting its slow descent toward the horizon. The orange colors have grown stronger as the sun starts to dip. We follow the coast road back to Paradise Cove, we had passed the tin roofs a few minutes ago, and we were back on the open road.

  “Here, what’s this place?” Brooke asks.

  “It looks small,” I reply.

  I turn into the parking lot. There is a standing menu by the steps of the building. From outside it doesn’t look the most appealing place, but this is Jamaica, not all buildings are built to look good. Brooke gets out and stands to look at the menu. I climb from the Jeep and stand at the side of her.

  “Seafood; prawns or something, that’s not heavy on the stomach,” she says.

  We walk inside, and I am pleasantly surprised. I was expecting basic wooden (or plastic) tables and chairs. The tables were placed well, and set to look out over the clifftop toward the ocean. It would be an ideal location to watch the sunset.

  We sit by the rail, and I look over the edge of the cliff. I see a few people making the most of the sun.

  “That’s quite a drop,” I say.

  “Don’t lean too close,” Brooke replies laughing.

  “I see you are feeling better?”

  Brooke looks at me. “I don’t know how you do it, it’s just too much for me.” Her eyes look like magic.

  “To be honest, I have played cards too much. After a while it’s not about the money, it’s about outsmarting your opponent,” I explain.

  “Either way, I couldn’t handle it like you do,” Brooke says.

  The waitress comes to the table with a large pitcher of iced water. She pours the glasses and Brooke takes a huge
sip. She sighs perfectly as she puts her glass back on the table.

  “What seafood do you have?’ Brooke asks.

  “To be honest, you ave missed da lunch, but we is just about to prepare da dinner menu,” the waitress says in a broad, Jamaican accent.

  “Anything, prawns or something like that,” Brooke explains.

  “I will be back in a minute or two, I ask da chef,” the waitress says.

  “You can’t knock the service, they are so pleasant here,” Brooke says.

  The waitress returns to the table. “If you want shrimp, we have peppered shrimp, or we have da chef specialty, he makes a mean curried shrimp which come with da rice,” the waitress explains.

  Brooke nods and screws her lips up. She licks them as she answers. “I like the sound of the curried shrimp, I don’t want to be pulling shells off,” she says.

  “We can do a large bowl for two, if dat what your fella wants,” the waitress says.

  “He is not my…” Brooke looks flushed.

  “A bowl for two will be great,” I say.

  “You want salad? Or we have da freshly baked bread,” the waitress asks.

  “Bread is great,” I say, happily smiling.

  “What about da drinks?”

  “Just soda for me,” Brooke says.

  “Same here,” I add.

  “Ten to fifteen and a couple of minutes for da drinks,” she says.

  I nod and smile at the waitress, I see her walk back into the kitchen area and yell her instructions to the chef.

  I look over the table at Brooke. Her blue eyes gaze back at me. I feel like she is trying to read my mind. Maybe it’s the way I acted at the poker table.

  “You never mentioned why you are in Jamaica,” I ask.

  “That’s right, I didn’t,” she replies, raising her eyebrows.

  “From the look of that, you are not going to tell me.”

  “Maybe I will, but not tonight,” she says.

  The waitress returns with the drinks and places them on the table. She smiles as she walks away.

  Brooke takes her sip of her drink and looks at me. “So how much do you owe?”

  “A woman’s intuition can be really scary to a man.”

  Brooke

  “It is true, angels do walk amongst men.”

  The sun had finally set as we finished our early dinner. The waitress was spot on, and the curried prawns were fantastic. I just felt really thirsty. I think it was from traveling in the open-top Jeep in the heat of the day.

  I wave to the waitress. She holds her two fingers up and finishes serving another table. She walks back over to our table.

  “Anything else I can get you?” she asks.

  “I am really thirsty; do you have anything that will quench my thirst?”

  “Agua De Jamaica,” the waitress says. She gives a wide and friendly smile.

  I shrug my shoulders as if to say that I have no idea what that is.

  “Sorry, I always do dat. It is coconut water wid hibiscus, lime, and sugar,” she says.

  “Is it nice?”

  “It is, and it is great if you ave been in da sun too long. We do it in a big pitcher.”

  “You want to try it?” I ask Alex.

  “May as well, replace some lost fluids,” he replies. His skin looks perfect in the light.

  “One of those then please, Mary,” I say.

  “How do you know my name is Mary?” Mary asks.

  “I have no idea, it just came to me.”

  “Hmm, you’re not a physic one, are you? I don’ want you inside my head,” Mary says, laughing as she says her words.

  “I have no idea why I thought of it, do you have it written down anywhere?” I ask.

  “No, it’s not wrote anywhere, it is one of dose freaky incidents,” Mary says, still chuckling to herself.

  “Don’t ask. I don’t know,” I say, looking at Alex.

  Alex squints and holds his head at an angle to me. “I have been watching you very closely. Have you been reading my mind?” he asks.

  “Honestly, her name just popped into my head.”

  “You mentioned you saw a pattern on the roulette table, maybe there was no pattern and you just had a freaky thing happen,” Alex says, now waving his hands in a ghost-like way.

  “Will you stop it, you are freaking me out,” I reply quietly. “You know they believe in voodoo here.”

  “Sorry, I won’t mention it again,” Alex says.

  “Just make sure you don’t, or I will cast a spell on you,” I say, grinning.

  Mary returns to the table with our large pitcher. It’s a dark, rose-tinted drink, and I can smell the fruitiness even before a glass has been poured.

  Alex pours the glasses, and I sip on the cold liquid. “This is great, it tastes more refreshing than water,” I say.

  “It must be the lime, it puts a real zing on your taste buds,” he replies.

  “So, you didn’t finish telling me how much money you owe?” I ask him.

  Alex bows his head shamefully. “How do you know I owe money?”

  “Just some little things you have done today, the flipping of the chip in your fingers is one thing.” I raise my eyebrows.

  “So, you do read people?”

  “Not consciously I don’t, things just come to me sometimes,” I reply.

  “I want to be totally honest, I owe a lot,” Alex says.

  “How much is… a lot?”

  “I was given a card to get the construction going on the resort, this morning I had thirty thousand left,” he says.

  I watch Alex as I ask him the next question. “How much was there originally?”

  “Four hundred thousand,” he replies. His face turns a paler shade.

  My jaw drops. “And now you have what, a hundred thousand, approximately?”

  “Yeah, but we have spent two hundred and fifty thousand for the club construction,” Alex says.

  “That leaves you fifty thousand short; you said it was your cousin who owns the resort?”

  “It is, and I hate to tell her that I have put my foot in it.”

  “Do you want to go back to the casino?” I ask.

  “No way, I have to keep away, that was what got me in trouble in Vegas,” Alex says.

  “I think there is a little more to your story than just fifty thousand to your cousin.” I feel it, somehow.

  Alex looks at me. He rubs his hands together. “They will be after me, I had to get away from Vegas pretty quick,” he explains.

  “These guys in Vegas, how much do you owe them?”

  Alex screws his lips up. “Around two hundred and seventy-five-grand.”

  “You owe two hundred and seventy-five-grand to ‘guys’ in Vegas?” I whisper. “You know what they will do to you if they find you?”

  “I know exactly what they will do to me, that is why I jumped at this chance,” he says.

  “Alex, Jamaica is not far enough away, how long do you think it will be before they check the airlines for your name?”

  “I had to get myself some time, there must be something I can do,” he says.

  “God knows how you managed to dig yourself into that sort of hole,” I say. I still can’t believe it.

  “You know what addicts are like,” he says, genuinely.

  “You told me that you were not an addict.”

  “That’s the first sign, we lie about being an addict,” he says. He looks like a lamb.

  “You might not like it, and it might not help, but you have to come clean to your cousin.” I look at him with kind eyes. I really like this guy. I can see he is beautiful, underneath his suave, assertive outset.

  “I wish I could, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings, she has put so much trust into me,” he says.

  “You have gone way off track in showing that you are trustworthy. It makes me wonder why I am even here with you, now.” I use a serious tone.

  Alex looks at me sharply. I can see I’ve just said something that coul
d tip him over the edge. “You can’t leave me now, I know we’ve only just met, but… I really feel like I need you,” he says, looking at me with honest eyes.

  “We will see how it goes, but one hint of lying to me and I will be gone faster than you can say, ‘Where has Brooke gone?'”

  “I promise, I won’t lie to you. Not now, not ever,” he says.

  “Alex, not ever is a very long time, are you sure you can promise for that long?” I feel his aftershave under my nose, mixed with his scent.

  “Can we take it a week at a time? That, I think I can handle,” he says.

  “I am supposed to be here for another four or five weeks, so let’s see how we go in that time,” I say, desperately wanting to kiss him.

  “Brooke, you are one in a million,” he says. He smiles.

  “A million is not that many, I was expecting around ten million,” I say, now obviously smiling.

  “I can’t say it now.”

  “That’s true. Now drink up, we should be getting back,” I say.

  “Now who is getting bossy?” he asks, looking at me with his sexiest eyes.

  “Alex, you need a real-good kick up the ass!”

  “I need more than that,” he says.

  “I was being polite,” I reply.

  “I need you.” He sips his drink and stands up.

  His perfectly toned body seems to be desperately trying to get out from underneath his clothes. Oh, but that’s just my naughty imagination.

  We walk from the restaurant and Mary was right. That drink has made me feel better than I did before. I don’t have that never-ending thirst that was there earlier.

  The Jeep pulls onto the road and I let the wind blow through my hair. It can knock the crap out of the styling now, because I am going to jump into the shower as soon as I get back into my room.

  Alex pulls onto the dirt track. The vibrations shoot straight through and tease my pussy. I turn to Alex and smile. Sorry Alex, I am not going to fuck you tonight.

  The Jeep pulls off the track. I feel like my pussy is on fire from the shaking and the bumps. I feel cheeky knowing I enjoyed it.

  Alex opens the door to the Jeep. He might really be in trouble, but he is still gentleman-like. He offers me his arm. I link mine through his as we walk back to the hotel reception.