Full Tilt Duet Box Set

by Emma Scott

  “Kacey’s coming out with us tonight,” I told Theo on the phone. “A welcome dinner. You should bring Sally.”

  “Holly,” Theo corrected.

  Holly Daniels was his on-again, off-again girlfriend. Or the closest thing he’d had to a girlfriend in his life. A petite woman with a loud laugh and short, dark hair, she’d been one of Theo’s customers at Vegas Ink. I teased him that Holly had only wanted one tiny tattoo but had kept coming back until she’d won Theo over. Every time I saw her two full sleeves of tattoos along her arms, I had to bury a laugh.

  “So it’s a couples thing?” Theo said.

  “No. Well…” My hand wandered up to my collar and the top of my scar, where I could still feel Kacey’s kiss. One little brush of her lips branded on my skin and in my mind. I kept coming back to it.

  “Hello?”

  I snapped to. “No, it’s not a couples thing. It’s a friend thing. Bring Holly, bring someone else or bring no one. It’s up to you.”

  “Where we going?”

  “Kacey wants to go to dinner and a casino. I thought the MGM Grand would be good to—”

  “You can’t go to a casino and be around all that smoke. Doesn’t she know that?”

  “She does,” I said, “but it was my idea. She’s never been to a casino, and the MGM has excellent ventilation. I researched it.”

  He grumbled something incoherent.

  “Come on, bro. Oscar and Dena are down. It’ll be fun. Something different.”

  “Different,” Theo said. “Christ, you have it bad.”

  “I’m being optimistic,” I said with a grin. “Come on, Teddy.”

  A pause. “Where we eating?”

  “Your favorite, the New Orleans Fish House,” I said. “All the spicy-as-hell crawdads you can eat. Eight o’clock.”

  That won him over. Or maybe he wanted to watch over me like a damn mother hen all night, but he agreed to go.

  I told Kacey I’d pick her up at 7:45. She opened her door wearing an oversize, off-the-shoulder blouse in some kind of shimmery material. It slipped over her skin like molten silver, leaving one shoulder bare, and hung to her thighs where a short black skirt peeked out. But it was the black stockings she wore just above her knee that drained the blood from my brain.

  She’d piled her hair onto her head and secured with some kind of clip or band with a large silk black rose over her right ear. Her striking features were done up in dark, cat’s-eyes makeup and bright red lips. A cloud of her perfume—her favorite and the one she kept in the bottle I had made for her—wafted through me.

  I was so busy staring at her that I hadn’t noticed she was staring at me.

  “Wow, Fletcher,” she said. “You…you clean up nice.”

  I’d put on a dark gray suit with a bright blue tie that may or may not have been the same color as Kacey’s eyes.

  “You look…” I trailed off, staring, because no words existed.

  She smiled and moved in to straighten my tie. “Thank you.”

  When we arrived at Emeril’s New Orleans Fish House, the hostess led us through the amber-colored elegance of the restaurant to the table where Dena, Oscar, Theo and Holly were seated. Kacey, of course, hugged Dena and Oscar off the bat, and they hugged her back, telling her how much they’d heard about her, and that time there was no mistaking her blush. She glowed with happiness under the light of Dena and Oscar’s warm welcome and I never thought I’d loved my friends more.

  “Don’t you look handsome,” she said to Theo, smoothing the collar of his dress shirt. “Hi, I’m Kacey,” she said to Holly, whose full sleeves of tattoos were on display in a sleeveless blouse. I buried a smile while Kacey held Holly’s hands to admire the ink.

  “Wow, amazing.” She turned to Theo. “Yours?”

  He nodded, shrugged.

  By the time we finished our appetizers, any qualms I’d had about Kacey fitting in were gone. She and Holly talked tattoos, and even got Theo to roll up a sleeve to compare ink, before Kacey fell into a conversation with Dena about poetry and songwriting.

  Oscar leaned in from my left. “Are you going to eat or stare at Kacey all night?”

  No point in denying it. I didn’t even try. “I’m going to stare at her all night.”

  Oscar grinned and chucked me on the arm. “You do that.”

  At dessert, Oscar steered the conversation toward camping in a hairpin turn of a topic change, and asked Kacey if she’d ever been.

  “Never,” she said. “I’m not much of a nature person, except for the beach. Where are you camping?”

  “Great Basin National Park.”

  “It’s quite stunning,” Dena said. “It’s a little bit of everything—desert, forest, lake. You’d love it.”

  “You should come with,” Oscar said.

  “You should,” Dena said. She turned to Holly. “You too. Then there’d be six of us.”

  “I’m in,” Holly said, while from behind her shoulder Theo stared daggers at Dena.

  “It sounds great,” Kacey said, then turned to me. “What do you think? Would you… like the company?”

  Maybe I was supposed to be guarded or wary, but I was just happy. Tonight, I’m trying it Dena’s way. Be happy. Be normal. A part of the circle, not alone in the center.

  “I would love the company.”

  Kacey’s cheeks reddened prettily, and she turned back to Oscar. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Don’t thank me until you’ve crapped in the woods and heard mountain lions outside your tent. This is your initiation, kid.”

  “Bring it,” Kacey laughed.

  And her smile was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  “So who’s up for a little bit of gambling?” I said as we left the restaurant. “I’ve got forty bucks burning a hole in my pocket.”

  Dena exchanged a look with Oscar, then yawned. “I overdid it on the crème brulee,” she said. “My pillow is calling.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Oscar said, glancing at Jonah. “Why don’t you guys go ahead without us? We’ll do it again some other time.”

  “You sure?” I said.

  “Next time,” Dena said, hugging me.

  “I’ll gamble,” Holly said. “I haven’t in ages.” She tugged on Theo’s arm. “You want to?”

  Now Theo ricocheted a glance between Oscar and Jonah, and shook his head. “Don’t feel like it. Calling it a night.”

  Holly pouted before hugging me goodbye. Theo slid stiff arms around me and bent his mouth to my ear. “Try to keep it under an hour in the casino. He shouldn’t be around the smoke.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  Theo seemed to hesitate, his eyes flicking toward Jonah then back to me. “Have a good time,” he said. He turned abruptly, leaving Jonah and me alone.

  I watched Holly jog to catch up to him.

  “Have he and Holly been together long?” I asked.

  “By his standards, yes.”

  “Oscar and Dena are wonderful people.”

  Jonah made a face. “They’re like a bad Vaudeville act.”

  I laughed. “Come on. I promised Theo we’d only stay an hour in the casino.”

  “Jesus, he’s ridiculous.”

  I slid a hand into the crook of his elbow. “He’s his brother’s keeper.”

  The casino was a short walk from the restaurant. We stepped inside the slightly dim space where most of the illumination came from slot machines, row upon row of them. A legion of glowing, flashing lights. Cones of bright light blared down on the blackjack tables, reflecting off the dealers’ white shirts and the white cards on green felt.

  “What’s your poison?” Jonah said. “Blackjack? Roulette? Poker?”

  “Blackjack,” I said.

  The casino was crowded and we had to amble far down the line before finding a table with one open seat, immediately to the dealer’s right.

  “It’s a five-dollar ante,” Jonah said. “Go for it.”

  “There’s no room for you.” />
  “I’ll watch and coach from afar.”

  “I don’t need coaching.”

  The eyebrow went up. “The seat to the dealer’s right is the most important seat at the table. You up for that kind of serious responsibility?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “I was born ready.” I made to sit down then paused. “Wait. The face cards are worth ten, right?”

  Jonah laughed and I took the vacant seat. He stood behind to watch the hand in progress play out.

  To the dealer’s left sat two young guys who looked serious about their five dollar antes. Beside them, two older ladies chatted nonstop and played almost as an afterthought—counting their cards’ totals and hitting or staying automatically. Beside them and to my right sat an older gentleman in a ten-gallon cowboy hat and a denim button down shirt. He pulled a packet of Marlboro Reds from the front pocket.

  “Sir,” I said. “I’m going to win one hand and then go. Would you mind not smoking until then? Please?”

  He eyed me through grizzled skin scrunched up around his eyes, and laughed. “You’re in the hot seat, girlie. You know how to play to win?”

  “Watch me,” I said. As the cowboy put his smokes away and I leaned back into Jonah. “How do you play to win?”

  “You need chips. Lay your money on the table.”

  I put a twenty-dollar bill on the green felt. “I’ll take one chip,” I told the dealer and he gave me one blue-and-white striped chip with a 20 embossed in gold on the front.

  “It’s only a five-dollar ante,” Jonah said.

  “Go big or go home, right?”

  “You got that right, girlie.” Cowboy pulled a red fifty-dollar chip from one of several small towers of chips, and set it as his ante. “Do right by me now, hotseat. I’m countin’ on ya.”

  Jonah snickered from behind me.

  I leaned back. “Double down on eleven, right?”

  “Oh, now you want coaching?” He clucked his tongue.

  The dealer—an expressionless man in his late twenties—deftly slid cards out of a chute to each one of us, face up. He dealt himself one down, one up—a three of clubs.

  The rest of the players got lucky: nothing lower than seventeen, and Cowboy split his eights, laying another fifty-dollar chip beside his first. He was rewarded with two eighteens, and crowed at his luck.

  I was dealt a three of diamonds and a two of hearts.

  “Are you fucking kidding me,” I muttered.

  Cowboy made a face at my cards. “Not good, girlie.”

  “You’re telling me. Hit.”

  A two of spades.

  “Hit,” I said again.

  The five of clubs.

  “Shit.”

  The rest of the table began to grumble.

  Jonah leaned over me. “You have twelve. Dealer is showing thirteen—probably.”

  “How do you know? Are you the Rain Man?”

  Jonah’s grin colored his words. “No, but I’m an excellent driver.”

  “Ha ha. Help.”

  Jonah crouched down so that his chin hovered just above my bare shoulder. His breath was warm on my neck, sending pleasant little shivers skimming down my spine.

  “It’s a safe strategy to always assume the dealer’s downcard is worth ten. More of those in the deck.”

  “Okay…”

  “So he’s got thirteen, we assume. You have twelve, and your next card’s going to be a face card—”

  “How…how do you know?” I tried to keep focus, but God, Jonah smelled good. And his hand rested on my back, his thumb rubbing a soft circle. I didn’t think he even knew he was doing it. I squeezed my legs together.

  “Probability,” he answered. “You’ve taken a lot of small cards. Good chance the next one is worth ten. Let the dealer bust with it. Don’t hit.”

  The sentiment was vehemently echoed by the other players. “Don’t hit.”

  “It’s probable, not definite.” I looked around the table. “Sorry, guys, but I can’t sit on this pathetic twelve.”

  Loud protests as I brushed my fingertips along the green felt. “Hit me.”

  The dealer laid down the eight of diamonds.

  “Twenty.” I clutched Jonah’s arm and shook it. “I got twenty.”

  He shook his head, laughing. “Yes, you did.”

  “You got damn lucky, is what you got,” Cowboy said with a chuckle. “Now stay, girlie.”

  “Stay,” the other players echoed.

  I waved my hands over my cards. “Stay.”

  The table went quiet as the dealer flipped over his down card. A queen to give him thirteen.

  “Dealers have to hit up to seventeen,” Jonah murmured in my ear.

  My heart pounded fast as I watched the dealer hit and bust with the Jack of diamonds. The table erupted in cheers.

  Jonah gripped my shoulder. “Holy shit.”

  “I won,” I said, as the dealer laid a second blue-and-white-striped $20 chip beside my first.

  “Not only did you win,” Jonah said. “If you’d sat on your twelve, the dealer would have taken your eight to his thirteen.”

  “And had twenty-one,” I said.

  “The whole table would have lost.”

  “He’s right, girlie,” Cowboy said. “You’re a ringer, ain’t you?”

  “Could be.” I took my winnings and vacated my seat. “Good luck, everyone! It’s been real.” I tapped the brim of Cowboy’s cowboy hat as we left the table. “You can smoke now, sir.”

  “You just won me two hundred dollars, Lady Luck,” he said, wheezing a laugh after us. “Maybe I’ll quit while I’m ahead.”

  “Now what?” I said to Jonah, taking his hand. “Where to? I swear I’ve never had so much fun sober in my life.” I stopped at the long lines of slot machines, buzzing and clunking and glowing. “Slots. Oh my God, do you want to? Just a few, then we’ll leave, I swear.”

  Jonah laughed. “How could I say no?”

  I went to the change window and came back with four rolls of nickels.

  “You want to play nickel slots?” Jonah asked.

  “I want to play some kind of slots, but plunking quarter after quarter into a machine feels wasteful. This way, I get the experience without feeling like I’m throwing a ton of money away.”

  Jonah narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Very wise.”

  “Smartass.” I took his hand again. “Let’s go play with the high rollers.”

  We found the casino’s sole bank of nickel slots and set up shop. Jonah took off his suit jacket and tie and slung them over a vacant machine. Then he handed me a plastic bucket from a stack between the slots.

  “For your winnings,” he said.

  “Better get me two,” I said, tearing into my rolls of nickels. “I’m feeling lucky…punk.”

  The slot machines had buttons to push in addition to the levers to send the pictures of cherries, diamonds and bars spinning. Jonah hit the button, but I insisted on pulling the lever.

  “To get the full effect,” I said.

  “You’ve really never gambled before? Not even at Caesars?”

  “I’m too busy hustling free drinks, and when my shift is over I just want to get the heck out of there and change my clothes. Holy shit, you should see the get-up they have us wearing. Togas, gold sandals, and leafy headbands.”

  The metallic plunk of a small handful of nickels hit Jonah’s tray. A small win. I had the same; just enough to keep us playing.

  “It’s funny we have the same work schedule,” he said. “Wednesday through Saturday nights, six to two a.m.? Exactly the same schedule.”

  “I requested those days.” I turned my face to the machine, pulled the lever. “Because they’re the best shifts.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jonah smile. “They are the best.”

  I slipped my last nickel into the machine and came up with nothing.

  “I’m out,” I said with a sigh. “I think the system is rigged.”

  Jonah
laughed. “I guarantee it is. I’m almost out too…”

  He dropped a nickel, hit the button and the pics on the machine went round and round. One cartoon diamond solitaire with jackpot written across the middle jerked to a stop. Then two. Then three, all lined up in a perfect row. The entire machine lit up with flashing lights and music, and a torrent of nickels cascaded into the tray below.

  I jumped out of my seat, my hands flying to my mouth. “Oh my God, you won. You won!”

  Jonah stared, a half-smile of shock around his open mouth. “Holy shit, look at that.”

  The nickels kept pouring out, overflowing the tray and falling onto the carpet in a jingling avalanche.

  I clutched his shoulder. “Oh my God, how much did you win?” I scanned the top of the machine for the payouts. “It says three diamonds is…five thousand nickels. Wait… That’s…”

  “Two hundred and fifty bucks,” Jonah said, standing up, his hands on his head.

  “You hit the jackpot,” I said, throwing my arms around his neck.

  He looked down at me, his hands slowly coming down. The slot machine lights reflected red, blue and green in his eyes. The chime of falling coins dwindled away in my ears. The entire casino faded to the background.

  “I did,” he whispered. His hands took my face and he kissed me.

  I froze as his lips covered mine, then I melted against him. His warm, soft mouth stole the strength from my legs and I staggered back. He followed, pressing me up against the bank of slots, nickels sliding under our feet. A small moan escaped me, an unconscious sound of want rising from deep inside. I hadn’t known how badly I wanted this until it was happening.

  Jonah brushed his lips over mine and then moved in closer, pressed harder. My lips parted for his, and I moaned again at the first taste of his tongue sliding against mine—sweetness and a tinge of spicy heat from our dinner. I wanted more, but he retreated to kiss my lips, sucking lightly, exploring everywhere, before coming back to plunge deeper.

  My hands found their way into his soft, thick hair. I pulled lightly, pulled him closer to me, opened my mouth wider to take all of his kiss. His body pressed all up and down mine, and I wanted him on my skin and in my veins.