by Skyy
“Aw, craps,” a man who’d just rolled the dice said and snapped. “I’m done.” He picked up the few chips in front of him that he had left and departed.
“Mr. Bentley, you’re back?” a man who looked to be a casino worker asked the older gentleman.
“Yes, thank you.” He looked to Dakota. “And with my good luck charm.” He winked at Dakota. It wasn’t a flirty kind of wink. It was more of a smooth one, and this older man was smooth indeed. He wore a nice suit, and shoes that shined so bright, if Dakota got down on all fours and looked at them, she’d probably be able to see her reflection clearly. The watch around his wrist was platinum with diamonds. It all went hand in hand with that mellow scent he’d left behind on the elevator after he had departed.
“Good luck charm, huh?” Dakota said. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Mr. Bentley?” She repeated the name she’d heard the casino worker call him.
“You’ll see.” Mr. Bentley went and stood at the table by the worker. Mr. Bentley took several stacks of the chips that were sitting in front of the worker, who had evidently been keeping an eye on them for their true owner, Mr. Bentley. He then scooted them farther onto the table. Next the dealer gave him the dice and he scooped them up. He nodded for Dakota to come stand next to him.
With raised eyebrows and her lips twisted, she walked over next to Mr. Bentley, her entire demeanor showing how reluctant she was to do so. “Hmmm, let me guess. You want me to blow on your dice or something,” Dakota said.
He put his head down and grinned. “Too much of a cliché. Besides, I tried that before with the brunette over there.” He nodded toward the table next to them at a medium-height, medium-build lady who was with another woman. “Obviously the whole dice blowing thing only works in movies,” he said. “So to answer your question, no, I don’t want you to blow my dice for me. I want you to throw my dice for me.”
“Me?” Dakota placed her hand against her chest. Too bad she hadn’t thought of or had time for a red polish job. That would have been a nice added touch. Good thing, though, she maintained some pretty decent nails. She at least kept them buffed, so they had a shine to them. “I’ve never gambled before in my life. With the exception of that slot machine over there.” She nodded toward the area where she’d been playing the penny slot. “But you see how that panned out.” She sarcastically said, “I won some big money.”
“This is different. Those slot machines are rigged for when someone’s going to win and when someone is going to lose.”
Dakota placed her hands on her hips. “Well I guess you left that out of your little spiel when you were talking me into gambling.”
He smiled one of those busted smiles. “I just wanted you to at least give it a try, live a little.” He turned to the craps table, smiled, and rubbed it. “But this right here. It’s all about luck. And right now I need a little Lady Luck.” He took Dakota’s hand that still lay subconsciously on her chest. He placed the dice in it. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a lady’s touch.”
“I beg to differ. You just had that Kim Kardashian brunette over there touch.”
Both Dakota and Mr. Bentley looked at the woman who was fondling all over some gambling older man.
“I’m sure you’ll agree with me when I say that that right there, my friend, is no lady.”
Dakota laughed and shook her head. “You are so bad.”
“Then make me better. Make me a winner,” he pleaded. “Like I said, a lady’s luck, beginner’s luck, just a lady’s touch, perhaps that’s what I’m missing and need in order to turn my night around.” He gazed into her blushing eyes. “So will you do me the honors?” Before Dakota could decline he said, “You wouldn’t deny an old man one last pleasure would you?”
“Well since you make it seem like you’re on your deathbed, how could I?” Dakota agreed. She turned toward the table. “Now how does this work?”
The gentleman turned and placed both hands on a huge stack of chips. He then pushed them onto the table. “Now you just roll an eleven or seven and I’ll be a very rich man.”
“And if I don’t?” Dakota asked.
“Then I’ll be a very poor man and have a lot of explaining to do with my wife.”
Dakota looked down and for the first time noticed the man’s wedding band. It was his eye-catching watch that had caught her attention earlier.
“Oh, I see,” she said. “Well, the last thing I want to do is upset your wife. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to blow on the dice anyhow. For one, what harm is a little extra luck? For two, I like clichés. Everyone does, or else they would have never become clichés in the first place.”
“And is there a three?” He looked at Dakota knowingly.
She shimmied her shoulders and gave off a huge grin. “Because I’ve always wanted to do it.” On that note, Dakota blew on the dice, looked toward the gentleman, and he gave her a nod letting her know to go for it. She rolled the dice.
The dice seemed to fly in the air and bounce about the table in slow motion as Dakota watched them. Finally they hit the wall of the table and landed flat on the table. Dakota hadn’t finished adding up the numbers in her head before she heard the onlookers cheering. The next thing she knew, the dealer was pushing an even bigger heap of chips back at Mr. Bentley, then scooped up the dice. Dakota never even finished counting before the dealer was on to the next bet.
“I guess I did good.” Dakota smiled.
“You did better than good.” The man took out a cigar and lit it.
“Hey! Stop thief!” Dakota began to yell as she looked over the gentleman’s shoulder.
He turned to see a different casino worker gathering all his winnings onto a tray. The casino worker looked to the gentleman, then to the crazy woman doing the name calling, then back to the gentleman. “Mr. Bentley, is everything okay here?”
“Yes. All is fine. Please proceed,” he ordered the casino worker, who then placed all of Mr. Bentley’s winnings on a tray and disappeared.
“But he’s ... but that’s your money.”
“Shhh, shhh. It’s okay, dear. He’s going to credit my account. It’s fine.”
“Oh.” Dakota relaxed. “Well. Thank you for allowing me to play my first game of craps, with your money.”
“Yes, but at least you didn’t lose my money. Oh, yeah, I almost forgot.” Mr. Bentley dug into his pants pocket. “Here you are.”
“What is it?” Dakota opened her hand and watched five chips fall into her palm. “Awww. How cute. You don’t have to. I assure you I won’t be using these. That right there”—she pointed to the craps table—“was luck indeed. Here, you use them since you’re the real gambler anyway.” She extended them back to Mr. Bentley.
He pushed her hand away. “Oh, no. You keep them. Cash them in. You don’t just have to use them to gamble with you know.” He leaned in and whispered into her ear. “You can cash them in for face value. It’s not play money.”
Dakota looked down at the chips, each with $100 on them. Her mouth opened. “But this is ...” She was at a loss for words.
“Yes, I know.” He closed her hand back around the chips. “That’s the least I can offer you for what you just won me.” He snickered.
Dakota, with a serious expression on her face, replied, “That was just all in fun. I ... I can’t take these and cash them in for money.”
“Well, I’m not taking them back. It’s gambling etiquette. So if you don’t want to cash them in for money, then I suggest you gamble them away.”
A frown spread across Dakota’s face. “But I’ll be all night on the penny slot trying to get rid of these.”
Mr. Bentley couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, you would be.” He looked around. “I have a suggestion. How about you accompany me for the rest of the evening in there?” He pointed.
Dakota followed his finger to a room with a sign that read HIGH ROLLERS.
“It’s where ...” He paused and thought for a moment. “What you young people might s
ay where the ballers go to have fun in a casino.” He winked.
“Oh, I see.”
“Yeah, the minimum bets might not be the average gambler’s cup of tea. Especially one who’s used to the penny slot.” The two shared a laugh.
“Well, I don’t know.” Dakota was hesitant.
“Why not?” Mr. Bentley shrugged.
Dakota looked back over into the room and watched the gamblers. Those people were probably placing single bets that were more than what Dakota had in her savings account. She was anything but a high roller. Why, it wasn’t even really her money she’d be betting with. She would be perpetrating a fraud for sure. She truly had to consider whether she was taking this whole stranger within thing too far. Certainly if she pushed her limits, someone would see right through her. She didn’t want to look like the oddball who ... She stopped herself right in her own thoughts. She was wearing a thousand dollar dress for goodness’ sake. She would fit in just as much as the next. Dakota and her khakis might not have, but Marie on the other hand was dressed for the occasion. “You are absolutely right; why the hell not?”
“Well then allow me the pleasure.” Mr. Bentley did a slight bow and extended his elbow to Dakota.
On second and final thought, Dakota surmised that she wasn’t taking the whole Marie thing too far. As a matter of fact, she wasn’t taking this Marie thing far enough. And now it was time to see just how far Marie was willing to go. “Why thank you, kind sir. I’d love to.” She did a curtsy, looped her arm through the older gentleman’s arm, and headed to the high roller’s lounge.
Chapter 8
“Five thousand dollars? You’re shitting me. That’s my baby girl. Ha! You go get ’em, baby.”
Dakota had never heard her father so excited for her in his life than hearing that his baby girl had ventured off into the high rollers’ territory with $500 in chips and a twenty-eight dollars and thirty cent voucher and came out with $5,000. Beginner’s luck for sure. But if she stopped and thought about it long enough, she’d really never brought much excitement his way. He was always whooping and hollering or fussing and cussing over something Billie had done, whether it was something she should have or shouldn’t have done. At least she’d garnered his attention. But Dakota couldn’t think of one time she had, besides her straight A report card she’d brought home in fifth grade. But then pretty soon, straight As became such a norm for her, it was expected. So there was no longer much excitement. Nope, only a five dollar bill for every A.
“I will, Dad.” Dakota smiled as she sat on the chair in her new Rio Masquerade Suite. The hotel had upgraded her. Rolling with the high rollers and accompanying Mr. Bentley had had its perks indeed. Dakota had told the hotel that they could have waited until this morning to do it, but they insisted on the immediate upgrade. So at two o’clock this morning, once she’d ended her night with Mr. Bentley, two bellmen helped her pack up and moved her to her suite. Fortunately for them all, there really wasn’t much to pack.
“Can you put Mommy back on the phone?” Dakota asked.
“Sure. I love you.”
“Love you too, Pops.”
She could hear her father passing the phone to her mother. “Here you go. Dakota wants to speak to you again.”
“Thank you,” her mother said. “And quit cussin’.”
Dakota could just picture her mother swatting her father.
“Hey, Dakota,” her mother said once she was on the line.
“Hey, Mom. Well I just wanted to tell you that I love you. Late registration for those who missed last night’s and continental breakfast is about to start, so I have to get going.”
“All right, dear. You be safe. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.” Dakota ended the call. She looked down at her phone at the time. It was almost eight o’clock. Today’s registration was about to begin. A continental breakfast was being offered as well. Opening remarks were at nine and the first official session would begin at nine-thirty.
Dakota sat in the chair in the living area wrapped in the hotel robe. She was trying to figure out exactly what to do. While shopping at the Forum Shops the day before, she had not only forgotten to purchase undergarments, but she’d forgotten to purchase something to wear for today’s sessions as well.
“That damn Billie,” she cussed out loud. She leaned her head back against the chair and exhaled.
She’d already registered so she didn’t have to worry about being there for that. She’d grabbed a sandwich before retiring to bed so she wasn’t really hungry with that still weighing on her. Continental breakfast definitely wasn’t an issue. Opening remarks of conferences usually consisted of someone bragging about how one person or another single-handedly or with the help of many put the conference together. There were many acknowledgments and thanks. She could read the program for all that. So in that instant she hopped up, went to the bathroom, showered, and put on her khakis and the underwear she’d at least had the decency to rinse out in the sink and hang over the shower bar to dry in the middle of the night. She then put on her bra and the shirt she had traveled to Las Vegas in. She pulled her hair back in a “just to get it off my neck” ’do, threw on her shoes, grabbed her purse, and was out the door. Hopefully Lady Luck was still with her and she could find at least a gift shop or something that was open this early in the morning.
She got on the elevator and went back to the floor where she’d purchased the lip gloss and earrings. That particular store was closed, but there was a twenty-four-hour gift shop open. And that was it. With no other options really, Dakota went to the gift shop. Thank God Las Vegas was not only Sin City and a gamble town, but a lot of conferences were held there and a lot of golfing, which meant golf shirts.
“Guess today I’m going to have to be one of the guys,” Dakota said as she began to pick through the limited collection of golf polos. All the cutesy pink ones only went up to an extra large. Dakota probably could have gotten into the adult extra large, but she liked her clothes to fit loosely. So, just as Aquilla had pointed out on the shopping rendezvous, she always bought her clothes slightly big.
Dakota put down the extra-large pink polo that had the name of the hotel and logo on the upper left hand side instead of a jockey riding a horse. She found herself having to go through the men’s polos that went all the way up to a size 3X. She found a white one in a double X. She held it up and figured this was the closest she was going to get to still at least feeling like a woman even though she would be wearing a man’s shirt. Just as she was about to walk away from the clothing rack she stopped. She turned and looked back over her shoulder at the pink extra-large polo. She eyeballed the white men’s double X, then cast her eyes back to the pink one.
With a mischievous grin, she quickly went and placed the white polo back on the rack and grabbed the pink one. She held it up, and before taking it over to the counter to pay for it said, “Yep, Marie, I think you’re going to look good in this.”
Twenty minutes after purchasing the pink shirt, Dakota was exiting the elevator on the floor of where the first session was to be held. She’d gone back to her suite to change into her shirt and then went straight back down to the conference. Her khakis would have to hold up for one more day.
She could hear applause coming from the main ballroom and then she heard voices begin to chat. Opening remarks had just ended; her timing was perfect. Noticing the continental breakfast area was still set up, Dakota walked over there and began fixing herself a cup of coffee. Attendees began to file out of the ballroom and into the main lobby area. Several met her over at the serving area and began fixing themselves a morning kick or grabbing some of the remaining pastries. The sheese cream Danish did look tasty. After putting her condiments into her coffee, Dakota decided to grab one filled with lemon.
“I see you plan on skipping out early for a game of golf,” a gentleman whispered as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Pardon me?” Dakota had no idea where that had come from; le
ft field, perhaps.
“Your shirt. You golf?”
Dakota looked down at her pink golf shirt with the hotel logo on it. “Oh, this. Well ... it’s a long story.” One that she did not feel like explaining.
“Darn.” He snapped his finger. “I was just certain I’d found someone who could teach me a thing or two on the green.”
Dakota’s eyes screamed confusion.
“The golf course. The green,” he said. “You don’t golf at all, huh?”
“Guilty,” Dakota confessed. “I’m afraid not. Never golfed in my life.”
“Oh, you should try it then.”
“It looks like such a serious sport. I don’t know anyone who would have the patience to teach me.”
The man held his arms out wide. “You’re looking at him.”
“But didn’t you just say you were looking for someone to teach you? Oh how quickly we go from being the student to the teacher.”
“Hey, anytime I get to be on the green with someone who’s going to make my game look good, I’m all for it.” He and Dakota laughed. “But seriously. I honestly wouldn’t mind. Golf is fun. No, it’s not all physical like basketball or football, but it’s fun. Challenges you more mentally than physically.”
“Well, that’s a plus for me, because I really don’t like to get that physical,” Dakota said.
“Oh, I see.” The man’s cheeks flushed red and the blond hairs on his arms, sticking out from his own golf shirt, stood up.
Dakota tried to pretend as though she hadn’t noticed. She felt bad for making him uncomfortable. She did a quick save. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to learn something new. I hear a lot of business deals are made on the golf court anyway.”
“It’s course.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s golf course. You said court.”