Misadventures on the Rebound

by Lauren Rowe

  “But I’m not going to sell it. I’m going to offer it to a pawn shop as collateral for a short-term loan. And when we’ve won enough money for me to buy it back, I’ll waltz back into the pawn shop and buy it back.”

  “Best laid plans, baby,” I say. I grab her hand, intending to make a point about her ring, and jolt when I discover she’s not wearing it. “You already hawked it? Savvy!”

  She looks down at her hand. “Oh. No. I hurled it across the room.” She smiles sheepishly. “I had a bit of a meltdown when I thought you weren’t coming back.”

  “Aw, chicken girl.” I touch her cheek. “I’m so sorry you thought that.”

  “It’s all right. When you walked through the door, the jolt of pure joy I felt more than made up for the pain.” She beams a wide smile at me. “I threw it that way. Will you help me find it?”

  We both begin searching the floor for the ring.

  “I just thought of another practical consideration,” I say, my eyes scanning the carpet for that little ruby heart. “Even if your algorithm works, how can we be sure we won’t run out of our seed money before we’ve hit pay dirt on our first slot? We could play every dollar of the ring money on a ‘hot slot’ without getting a hit, and the very next player on the machine could waltz up and hit a jackpot.”

  “True, but… Ah! Found it,” she says. She straightens up, holding her ring, a huge smile on her face.

  “Honey, seriously. Thank you for wanting to do this, but this whole plan has more holes in it than a sieve.”

  “I never said it was ironclad. I said from the start we’d be playing the statistical probabilities. The only difference is I’d make sure the statistical probabilities were heavily stacked in our favor. But what the hell, Aiden? It’s worth a try, right? Our give-a-shitters done broke, baby. Let’s give it a whirl.”

  I chew my cheek. Damn, I’m tempted. But I can’t stand the thought of her losing that ring for me.

  “Take a leap of faith with me, Aiden,” she says. “All the raw data I need is just sitting there, waiting for me.” She grabs my hand. “Trust me.”

  “I do trust you. But you said yourself there are elements outside your control here. Plus, there are things you haven’t considered.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, for one thing, there are video cameras everywhere. Floor supervisors. We’re going to need to make sure we stay under the radar. That part isn’t math or coding. That’s just good-old-fashioned grifting. And that’s not your strong suit, Savvy Who Isn’t Savvy. No offense.”

  “None taken. But that’s exactly why we’re such a great team. I’m going to figure out how to beat the house from a mathematical perspective, and you’re going to figure out how we’ll get away with it.”

  My mind is racing. I must admit, I’m feeling a glimmer of hope this could work. “Okay. The most important thing here is we can’t get greedy,” I say. “In and out.”

  She nods.

  “It helps that we’re planning to keep our winnings at around a grand each time. That’s not an amount that should attract any attention. But at that rate, winning thirty grand—twenty-five plus enough for you to buy back your ring—will take at least a couple days.”

  “More like three, would be my guess,” she says. “Seeing as how we’ll have to eat and sleep at some point.”

  “True.” I bite my lip, thinking. “We definitely wouldn’t want to stay at any one casino for too long. We’ll need to rotate. Hit a jackpot at one casino, and move on to the next one.”

  “Okay,” Savvy says. “But when you say ‘we,’ that’s going to have to be you. Like I said, I’ll need to stay online at all times to keep checking data in real time in the room. I’ll watch the data and direct you to the next hot machine at whichever casino.”

  I sigh. “Three days is a really long time for one guy to be seen winning at slots again and again. Even if I’m rotating through different casinos on a loop, I’m a little nervous someone will make me.”

  Savvy twists her mouth, considering. “Yeah, good point. Especially when the guy hitting jackpot after jackpot has a face as memorable as yours. You’re definitely not an average Joe, babe. I’ve noticed people stare at you wherever we go.”

  I roll my eyes. “They’re staring at you.”

  She snorts.

  “Look, I’d feel a whole lot better about this plan if we could switch off. If I could play the slots one day, and you could play them the next.”

  “It’s not possible,” Savvy says. “There’s no way you could run command central. At any given time, the variables will change and different machines will go from ‘hot’ to ‘dead’ in the blink of an eye. My algorithms won’t be user-friendly like an app on your iPhone.”

  I exhale with resignation.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out,” Savvy says. “The two of us combined make the world’s most perfect brain, remember? A perfect team in a zombie apocalypse.”

  I rub my face with my hand. Shit. I want to believe this could work. But I’m nervous to get Savvy mixed up into something that could go south on her and literally ruin her entire life. “I’m nervous,” I admit. “You’re squeaky clean, baby. No matter what, I want to keep you that way.”

  “I’d cover my tracks. No one would ever know I was poking around inside these casinos’ systems. I’ve got lots of tricks up my sleeve.”

  I don’t reply, simply because I’m thinking too many competing thoughts.

  “You don’t buy the whole premise, do you?” Savvy says. “You don’t think I can predict a hot machine, do you?”

  “I’m sorry. I have faith in you. I do. But I don’t see how that’s possible. Aren’t those machines designed to go off completely at random?”

  “Yes, but randomness is a relative term. Take a coin toss, for example. It’s totally random whether you’ll get heads or tails on any given toss of a coin, right? You’ve got a fifty-fifty shot, and there’s no way to predict with certainty what will happen. Plus, no matter the probabilities, it’s possible that coin will come up heads ten straight times. But what if you flip that coin a hundred times? Even if your first ten tosses came up heads, that statistical aberration will likely have evened itself out over the course of a hundred flips. The more times you flip, the more likely it is you’ll hit that fifty-fifty mark. And that’s the kind of predictability we’ll rely on here. The more machines we play, the more chance we’ll have that everything will go according to plan. Our biggest risk is we hit an aberration on our very first machine and lose all our money, right off the bat. That’s true. But I’m willing to take that risk.”

  I chew on the inside of my cheek. Everything she’s saying is making sense to me, but I still can’t wrap my head around her being able to predict when a slot machine will pay out…and then, on top of that, ensure that our winnings stay between a thousand and eleven hundred ninety-nine bucks each time.

  Savvy lets out a long, deep sigh. “Okay, you obviously need a little convincing.” She grabs her computer. Clacks on some keys. Furrows her brow. Clacks on a few more keys. And finally whispers, “Perfect.” She closes her computer, rises from the bed with her hand out, smiles, and says, “Come on, Aiden Who Isn’t Easily Convinced. I’m going to show you proof of concept.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Savannah

  “That one on the end?” Aiden asks, pointing to a row of slot machines about twenty yards away from where we’re standing in the noisy casino.

  I look down at my phone, at the information I sent myself right before leaving our room. “No. The machine next to that one. The one that lady in purple is playing.”

  “How do you know she didn’t already win on it while we were in the elevator coming down here?”

  “I don’t. I’d need to be sitting at my laptop, plugged into the Bellagio’s system, to know for sure.”

  “Let’s sit,” Aiden says, motioning to two empty chairs in front of video poker consoles. “This could take a while.”


  We sit, our eyes trained like lasers on the woman in purple.

  “You truly think that machine will go off any minute?” Aiden asks.

  “I do, assuming it didn’t go off in the few minutes it took us to get down here. If it’s still hot, then, yes, I think it’ll go off within the next twenty minutes or so, if I had to guess.”

  “What if we run into a situation like this when it counts—someone already sitting at our chosen machine?”

  “Then we’ll move onto another machine. There are hundreds of slots in every casino. If I get my algorithm right, then during any given hour, on a rotating basis, we’ll have multiple machines to choose from. In fact, don’t you think it would be good for other random people to win while we’re winning, too? Won’t that make us look less suspicious?”

  “Yeah, but it will also prolong the con, which will prolong the risk we get noticed. Rule number one to a successful con? Get in and get out. The longer you’re—”

  Before Aiden can complete that sentence, the slot machine in front of the woman in purple lights up, and the woman throws up her hands. “I won!” she shrieks. “I won!”

  Aiden looks at me, his mouth hanging open. “You’re a genius.”

  I giggle with glee. “It’s just math, like I said.”

  “Savvy, seriously, you’re… Oh, my God. You’re literally a genius, aren’t you?”

  I feel myself blushing. “Yes. But I’m nothing compared to my father. His IQ is ten points higher than mine.”

  Aiden shakes his head. “Savannah Valentine.” He grabs my hand and lays a soft kiss on my knuckles. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  I can’t stop smiling like a dope. “Thank you. So are you.”

  Aiden laughs. “Okay, my beautiful genius. You’re going to get your brilliant mind up to our room and get crackin’ on that algorithm. And while you’re doing that, I’ll hawk your ring and get you a turkey sandwich.” He rubs his palms together and lets out a whoop of pure joy. “Let’s get my beautiful guitar back, baby.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Aiden

  Friday, 6:52 p.m.

  When I enter the room, I find Savvy sitting on the bed, staring intensely at her laptop, her brow furrowed.

  “How’s it going, Einstein?” I ask.

  She looks up. “Good. I’m making excellent progress.”

  “You think you’re pretty close?” I ask, crawling onto the bed next to her.

  “I think so. There’s just this one thing that’s giving me fits. I need a little more time to noodle it, but I’m sure I can figure it out.” She rubs her eyes. “Man, my eyes are crossing.”

  I move her computer off her lap and place it to the side. “You’ve been working nonstop for hours. Lie down and let me massage your shoulders.”

  “There’s no time. If I’m going to lead command central while you hit the machines, it’s going to take us three days to hit our target. That’s cutting it awfully close for us to make it back to the museum in time on Monday.”

  “If time is getting short, we can fly back to LA and figure out how to get your car later. We’ll figure it out, baby. Don’t stress.”

  But she looks stressed. Highly stressed.

  “Lie down, sweetheart,” I say soothingly. “This isn’t life or death. It’s a guitar. Let me massage you and make it all better.”

  Sighing, she lies down on her side, and I begin massaging her stiff shoulders.

  “Ah, that’s nice. Thank you.”

  “The worst that can happen is Betty will live in a museum behind glass for the rest of her days, and the world will get to enjoy her. It won’t be the end of the world.”

  “No, I’m getting that guitar back for you,” she says firmly. “You said your grandfather’s greatest wish was for you to play it for the rest of your life. He wouldn’t have wanted Betty sitting untouched behind glass.”

  I sigh. Savvy is absolutely right. Gramps would have scoffed at the idea of Betty sitting behind glass like the crown jewels. He would have wanted her to live. To sing. But I’ve learned through a life filled with disappointments and losses never to hope for a miracle. Better to expect nothing and get pleasantly surprised if things work out…or to expect nothing at all and not feel too devastated when everything goes to shit.

  “What were you doing all this time?” Savvy asks as I massage her.

  “Killing time. After I hit the pawn shop and brought you your sandwich, I walked along the Strip for a while, just people watching and writing a song in my head. Oh, I bought a shirt. Then I found that catering manager and got into that storage room again. I worked out that song I’d been writing in my head for about three hours. And then I came back up here.”

  Savvy rearranges herself on the bed to face me. “I missed you. Is that crazy? We’ve barely been apart since we met, and it felt weird being without you.”

  I grin. “I felt the same way.”

  We share a smile.

  “So tell me about that thing that’s been giving you fits,” I say. “I won’t be able to help you with it, of course. But maybe explaining it to me will somehow help you figure it out.”

  She twists her lips adorably, considering. “Well, the main thing I’m struggling with is—”

  There’s a knock at the door, and Savvy and I both look toward it.

  “Who could that be?” she says.

  I look at the clock on the nightstand. 7:00. “Only one way to find out,” I say, getting up from the bed.

  “Wait,” Savvy says sharply, halting my progress. She looks anxious. “What if it’s Regina? What if she came here to offer you more money?” She puts her hand over her mouth. “Or what if it’s one of the guys from the motel? What if someone followed you back here, and they’re going to hurt you? Or kidnap me and demand ransom from you?”

  Oh, my heart. I’ll never forgive myself for dragging sweet little Savvy Valentine into this bullshit. “There’s a peep hole,” I say soothingly, walking toward the door. “I’ll take a peek before I open the door, okay?”

  “Be careful,” she says, her voice tight.

  I arrive at the door and peek through the hole to find Savvy’s father on the other side of the door. “It’s a middle-aged guy who looks strikingly like you.”

  “Huh?”

  “Come see.”

  Savvy leaps off the bed and comes to the door. She peeks through the peep hole and gasps. “It’s my father!” She clutches her chest. Her face flushes. “How the hell did he…?” She squints at me. “You invited him here?”

  I nod. “I went to visit him this morning at UNLV after breakfast with my dad. That was my errand—the reason I was late coming back to the room.”

  Savvy wrings her hands. She looks like her brain is short circuiting.

  Savvy’s father knocks on the door again.

  “Hang on, Professor!” I call through the door. I turn to Savvy. “Are you willing to see him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re still wearing the man’s ring,” I say. “Well, at least you were before I hawked it. That would suggest you should talk to him.”

  She looks down at her bare hand, and anxiety flickers across her face.

  “If you don’t like what he has to say, then tell him to leave. It’s as simple as that.”

  She looks like her mind is going a mile a minute. But, finally, she nods…and I open the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Aiden

  Friday, 8:42 p.m.

  I walk down the long hallway and arrive outside the door to our room. I don’t know if Savvy and her dad are still in there. For all I know, Savvy’s father left two minutes after I did. But I haven’t heard from Savvy since I left hours ago, so I’m guessing she’s still in there with her dad. I knock on the door. “Savvy?” I call out. “It’s me.”

  “Come in,” Savvy’s voice says on the other side of the door.

  I enter the room to find Savvy and her dad sitting at the small desk in the c
orner, huddled around her laptop. “Hey, you two.”

  Savvy looks up and smiles. “Hi,” she says.

  “How’s it going?” I ask.

  Father and daughter look at each other and grin shyly.

  “Good,” Savvy says. “We talked for a bit about everything. It was a productive conversation. A very good start.” She looks reassuringly at her father before returning to me. “But then I told Dad I don’t have time to deal with our relationship any more today because I’m working on an important and time-sensitive project.”

  “And I said, ‘Well, if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me,’” Savvy’s father chimes in to say.

  “And that’s when I realized Dad might be able to help me with the math for the algorithm! So I told him everything. I hope that’s okay with you.”

  “That’s fine.”

  She grins. “And guess what? My dad solved the problem that was giving me fits!” She squeals. “The algorithm works!”

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” Savvy’s father says. “I made the slightest adjustment to her calculations.”

  “An adjustment that made all the difference,” Savvy says. She looks at me. “Thanks to my dad, we can now confidently predict which machines will pay and how much we’ll need to bet to hit jackpots of between eight hundred to eleven hundred bucks.”

  “That’s amazing,” I say. My eyes drift to Savvy’s hand…and I suddenly notice she’s wearing her ruby ring again…even though I sold it to a pawn shop earlier today. “Your ring,” I say.

  Savvy smiles at her father. “Dad bought it back for me. He insisted. Actually, he tried to give me twenty-five grand, but I wouldn’t take it. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I wouldn’t have taken the money, either,” I say. I look at Savvy’s father. “Thank you for the offer, though.”