The Billionaire's Bluff

by Nella Tyler

  I had learned a lot from my broken relationship with my ex-husband. Yes, it had taken me a long time to learn how to trust again, but I had also learned how to be more independent. I have learned that I can stand on my own two feet. Yes, I am broke most of the time, but you know what? I was surviving. Sometimes, that was all we could ask for in life. Everything else, anything else, is just icing on the cake.

  Chapter 5

  I was really glad that Ben had told me a little bit about his past. I felt awful for him. I couldn't imagine how it might feel to know that perhaps, just perhaps, you are to blame for your brother's death. I realized that Ben had no control over that, and I did understand, in a way, his refusal to give any money to his brother, but still. It's easy for people to judge; I knew that. How would I have reacted?

  How would I have reacted if I had been bequeathed billions of dollars and then a relative that I barely knew, regardless of the fact that it could be a sister or brother, suddenly appeared, wanting money? I had always been a person who wanted to help fix other people's problems. Some said it was a fault of mine. Still, I didn't like anyone feeling bad or being in trouble. There were many times when I had loaned my last dollar to Savannah.

  At the same time, I also knew the dangers of giving money to any kind of an addict. It didn't matter whether they were addicted to alcohol, drugs, or gambling. Until the behavior itself was dealt with and overcome to the greatest degree possible, giving money to such individuals was an endless and enabling and potentially damaging endeavor.

  So while many people might have thought, or probably did think, that Ben was a nasty person because he had refused to give his brother a "mere" twenty-five grand, there was more behind it than it appeared. It was a horrid, terrible shame that loan sharks had murdered his brother, but I knew enough about the business to know that you didn't mess around with them. They weren't all the same, and it wasn't like people heard about on TV. Some were willing to work with you. However, some also charged outrageous interest rates for every day that you were late paying them back. It could quickly escalate into an untenable, frightening situation.

  I could imagine that because of the estrangement, Ben's brother had hesitated as long as possible before asking for money from his younger brother. I wondered what he might've felt at the moment Ben refused to give it to him. Had he been angry? Had he begged? Had he been scared? Probably all of those emotions rushed through his mind.

  I also tried to look at it from Ben's point of view. Growing up in a family embroiled in the casino business, he knew the dangers of gambling. There was a rule that many gamblers were able to follow: don't gamble more than you're willing to lose. Unfortunately, sometimes the gambling bug bit hard and people forgot. They figured that one more hand, one more win, might turn things around. It was that hope, that desire, and that thrill that kept most of them gambling.

  I didn't get the impression that Ben was like that. He came and left the Blackjack table with an easy-going demeanor. He had never gotten terribly upset when he lost, nor did he get that mad, money-hungry look in his eyes when he won. He seemed to play just for the fun of it. The fact that he had billions of dollars to play with took a lot of pressure off. He could lose an enormous amount of money and it wouldn't bother him. Maybe because of that there was no stress, no desperation. For others sitting around my table, it was not the same.

  I had seen many of them grow increasingly nervous as their pile of chips decreased. I had seen them biting their fingernails, scrambling nervously to the ATM machine, and more than I cared to count had a look of defeat and desperation in their features as they left my table. For the first time, I really thought about the ramifications of gambling behaviors. Come to think of it, I wondered how many of the gamblers that left my table had gone home to a ruined marriage, a broken home, and perhaps even to meet with loan sharks who were just as unforgiving as for those who had dealt with Ben's brother. How many had committed suicide because they had gone so deep into debt they saw no way of extricating themselves from it?

  I didn't like thinking this way. I never had before. But learning about Ben’s background, and what had happened, totally changed my perspective on a number of things. It was depressing. I didn’t think I'd ever take my place behind my Blackjack table with the same feelings again. I had a feeling that I would look at each of the players, wonder about their private lives and whether they were walking the edge. I knew there was nothing I could do about it. But up until this point, my job had been just that, a job. Now, it felt like I was a part of the problem. It wasn't my fault that the players at my table gambled or that some of them might be addicted to it. But I felt now kind of like a bartender handing a drink to an alcoholic, contributing to their slow decline, that slow spiral into desperation and oppression that they might never climb out of.

  When Ben and I got out of bed that morning, I tried to shake off such depressing thoughts and wondered how things would go today. By the time we got dressed and ate a nice breakfast out on the back patio, I was feeling relaxed for the first time in over a week. Every once in awhile I glanced at Ben and I realized that in spite of everything, I was very glad that we had come to some sort of an agreement, or terms.

  We had cleared the air and he had finally shared something of his past with me. We were just hanging out, lounging in the backyard, enjoying the sunshine, when he asked if I wanted to re-watch the movie that we had started to watch last night before we started making out. I agreed and downstairs we went. The next couple of hours passed quickly, the two of us sitting side by side on the couch, holding hands. It was nice to just hang out together, not to feel that immediate, mad, desire to couple. It was nice just to be able to relax with someone and not feel any pressure.

  I haven't been able to do that in a long time. I had never really hung out like this with my husband, especially not after we were married. As a matter of fact, as I began to look back at it, I realized that he had paid very good attention to me while we were dating, up until the point where we said our "I dos” to each other. Then, once the vows were exchanged, it seemed as if he had stepped back a little, quit trying so hard. Was that how all relationships worked? The chase was the exciting part and once the partner was caught, it wasn't exciting anymore?

  Would that happened to Ben and me? I certainly hoped not. Despite our rather shaky history in the past couple of weeks, I began to feel more comfortable around him again. I'm not sure if I could say that I trusted him completely, but there was some trust involved. I certainly didn't know if that was a good thing or not, but for today, I was happy about it, and I knew that my heart felt lighter than it had in days.

  I didn't like arguing with him. I didn't like being mad at him. The day passed quickly, too quickly, but eventually I knew it was time for me to go home. I had to work tomorrow, and Ben had to get back to whatever it was he did. I wanted to ask him about the gambling, more questions about his past, and what he did with his time during the day, but I held back. A little bit at a time. I would have to be satisfied with that.

  *

  The next couple of days had me literally walking on air. I didn’t care that Savannah ignored me. I decided that our friendship was probably over, especially if she refused to come up to me within the next couple of days and explain herself. At any rate, I couldn't worry about it. Ben and I talked on the phone a couple of times and exchanged text messages, but I hadn't seen him for a couple of days. I went to work and minded my own business, and with my new perspective, carefully watched the players around me, realizing that for the most part, they were having a good time.

  I discovered that I was having a good time, as well, and for the first time in years, I was actually looking forward to going to work, interacting with my customers, and just moving on with my life. I wasn't going to push the relationship with Ben. We saw each other when we could, and I wasn't going to make any demands of him or his time.

  The third morning after I left Ben's house, I woke up bright and early. I didn't have
to be at work until four o'clock this afternoon and had decided to do some laundry, some cleaning, perhaps even cook up some food that I could put in Tupperware containers and freeze. I had just taken a shower and put on some lounging-around-the-house clothes when I heard the knock on the door.

  I walked over to it, not sure who it could be. I certainly wasn't expecting anyone. I looked through the peephole and my heart gave a little leap of excitement. It was Ben. He was smiling, and it was obvious that he knew I was looking through the hole. I smiled as I opened the door and then stepped back, inviting him to enter.

  "What a pleasant surprise," I said, closing the door as he walked into the small entryway between the door and the living area. "What brings you out so bright and early in the morning?"

  "I just thought it like to hang out with you for a while before you have to go to work," he shrugged. "Is that okay with you? Do you have anything planned?"

  "Nothing that I can’t put off until tomorrow," I said. "Have you had breakfast?"

  He shook his head.

  I suggested that I make us brunch: an omelet, some toast, and coffee, nothing fancy. He agreed and I ventured into the kitchen and began to cook. He walked around the apartment for a while and then stood staring out the window before venturing into the kitchen behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

  "Can I help with anything?"

  "You can set the table," I suggested. “There are a couple of plates in the cupboard by the refrigerator. The silverware is in the last drawer under the counter top.”

  He quickly set the table, found napkins, and filled two mugs that he pulled out of an overhead cupboard with coffee while I dished up the eggs and the toast. We sat down and enjoyed a nice breakfast.

  After breakfast, I was pleased when he offered to help me clean up, and I agreed. That finished, I asked him what he wanted to do, and he just shrugged. I moved to sit down on the couch, thinking to double check my schedule on my iPhone. He sat down beside me, smiling. We sat there for a while, just holding hands, kissing, necking a little, nothing serious. We talked for a long time, about our childhoods and past relationships. We talked for a couple of hours, and I felt really good about it. He was finally opening up and finally trusting me. I felt in a way that his willingness to discuss his past and childhood encouraged my own trust in him.

  I was happy. Not just content, but happy. I hadn’t felt that way in such a long time, not since I had first met Ben. I felt comfortable with him, and as long as he was honest with me, and I felt that he was, I realized that our relationship could develop and grow. I wasn't in any hurry, of course, because I was still wary. I didn't want to get hurt again. My ex-husband had done quite a number on me. In fact, I sometimes wondered if my attraction to Ben was caused by the fact that he seemed attracted to me. Did I want to be given attention so desperately that I was mistaking his signals? Were we just friends or were we something more?

  As we continued to enjoy our conversation, I wanted to ask him these questions, but I didn't want to put a damper on the easy-going atmosphere that we had between us at the moment. Relaxed. No pressure. Just friendly conversation. I didn't want to do anything to disrupt that.

  As the afternoon waned, I glanced at the clock. "I've had a wonderful time with you this afternoon, Ben, but I do have to start getting ready for work. I have to be at the casino by four o'clock." It was coming close to three o'clock already, and I still needed to take a shower, wash my hair, get dressed, and put my makeup on.

  He nodded, but didn't move.

  I sat for several moments, my eyebrows lifted in question. I got the feeling he wanted to say something. “What is it?" I asked, smiling.

  He said nothing for several moments, but then sighed. "Can I ask you a favor?"

  My heart thumped. I couldn't help it. What kind of favor could I possibly do for Ben? He was the one with all the money and connections. What could I possibly do for him? Though I was a little leery, and trying very hard not to be suspicious, I nodded. “What is it?" I certainly wasn't going to promise him any favors before I knew what those favors or that favor entailed.

  Again, he hesitated for a moment or two, but then shrugged. "Maggie, do you think you could help me get back into the casino?"

  I sat there stunned. He wanted me to help him get back into the casino? How exactly was I supposed to do that? I broached that very question to him. "I'm just a Blackjack dealer, Ben," I said. "I don't have any pull with management. In fact, I think I've met the owner of the casino once, maybe twice in all the years I've worked there."

  "I know," he said. "They gave me a good talking to, but nobody came right out and accused me of cheating. They have no evidence of that, only suspicions, which I know now came from Savannah."

  "Still…" I felt funny. I didn't want to think it, but had Ben been trying to use me, again? I shook my head. "Ben, what difference does it make whether you get into my casino again? Heaven knows there are certainly plenty of other casinos in Atlantic City. Why this one?"

  He grinned as if it was all in innocence. "There's something about your casino that makes me feel comfortable. Even though I win at other casinos, and I do realize that I have a slight, very minimal addiction to gambling, I have come to realize in the past week or so that I miss your casino. I miss sitting across from you at the Blackjack table."

  While I thought that was nice and all, but it still didn't explain everything. "But we can see each other outside of the casino," I said. "As a matter of fact, I rather prefer it."

  "You do?"

  "Yes. I was beginning to get the feeling toward the end there, that the pit bosses were watching me with evil eyes. I know there are security cameras all over the place, and I was beginning to feel really nervous – anxious that every move I made, everything I said to the players, was being recorded." I shook my head. "Call me silly, Ben, but I've been really afraid that I was going to be called into the upper offices any day now. Now that more than a week has passed, I have finally begun to relax, to feel as if the situation was taken care of."

  "What about Savannah?"

  I frowned. "What about her? She's not speaking to me anymore, and I really have nothing to say to her. I'm still angry with her for going to management in the first place."

  “Have you noticed her talking to the pit bosses, the security crew, or going upstairs to the offices?"

  I shook my head, frowning. "To tell you the truth, Ben, I haven't paid that much attention to what Savannah's been doing lately. Like I said, we’re not speaking with one another at the moment. I've been minding my own business. I go to work, do my job, and then I go home. That's all."

  "I know you're wondering why I find your casino so special, so I'll come right out and say it, Maggie. It's because you're there. Gambling just doesn't seem to be any fun for me if you're not there."

  I had no idea how to respond to that. I certainly didn't want to encourage him to gamble, and if he had even a slight addiction, I wanted him to get a handle on it. I certainly didn't want to be one to perpetuate it. Still, I didn't understand why it was so important to be at my casino. Like I said, we were seeing each other outside of the casino and I felt so much more relaxed. This was where a relationship should develop, not in the workplace. I tried to explain that to him.

  "The bottom line, Maggie, is that I want to be near you all the time. Seeing you on your evenings off, for a few hours during the day, it's not enough. I got so used to spending my entire night with you, sitting across from you at the Blackjack table. You can't blame me for that, can you?"

  "You're just giving me sweet talk, aren't you?" I asked. I couldn't help the smile that turned up my lips.

  "You bet, I am," he said. "Maggie, I really like you, a lot. More than a lot. It's just that I want to be around you more, and if I'm banned from your casino, I can't be. It's as simple as that."

  I sighed. I still had no idea how I could help him get back into the good graces of casino management. I had to admit that I was flattered in a
weird way, but I would have to think about this. As far as I knew, the management didn't know that Ben and I had a relationship. What would happen if they found out?

  "Does management know about us?" I asked.

  He shook his head.

  "Did they ask anything about me when you were upstairs there at the casino that day?"

  Again, he shook his head.

  "Ben, how am I supposed to convince them to let you back into the casino? What am I supposed to tell them? How can I get you back in without divulging our relationship? The minute I do that, they're going to nix the idea. They'll think I'm in cahoots with you."

  "You can tell them that we’re just friends."

  "Still with the same results, I'm afraid," I said. “I’ll be fired.”

  "Well, maybe you could just mention that you haven't seen me in a while, and you could ask what happened. Then if they bring up anything about cheating and Savannah’s claims to suggest that I was, you could tell them that you never saw any signs of me cheating." He looked at me. "You didn't, did you?"

  I frowned as I thought back. "No," I replied honestly. In fact, that idea just might work, but I was more than a little anxious about going up to management. I had never done that before and the thought of facing the bosses up there, trying to enable a way to get Ben back into the casino, made me more than a little uncomfortable. While I did want to help him, I had no idea how I was supposed to do that.

  "Just try. What do you say, Maggie?"

  I thought about it for several moments and then nodded. "I'm not promising anything, Ben, but I will think about it, okay?"