by Sienna Ciles
The woman I’d sat down with glanced at her glass and then at me so quickly that if I hadn’t been looking right at her, I’d have missed it. “I might as well have another.”
“I’ll take a seven-and-seven,” I told the waitress.
“Separate tabs?”
The woman had already opened her wallet.
“I’ll pay for both,” I said quickly. I took my wallet out of my pocket and pulled out my AmEx.
“We have a three-drink minimum for cards, is that okay?” the waitress asked.
“I’m sure I can manage another drink,” I told the waitress, giving her as pleasant a smile as I could. The waitress took my card and went back to the bar, and I turned my attention back onto the woman I’d sat down with. “I think we skipped over the introduction part. My name is Dean.”
“I’m Kayla,” she replied, giving me a slightly tense smile.
“Pleased to meet you, Kayla, even if it’s under such bad circumstances,” I said.
“I have no idea what I’m going to do,” Kayla said with a sigh, before finishing off her martini. She popped the olive into her mouth and I couldn’t help but smile. Probably not the best expression to give her at that moment.
“I managed to get a hotel room here,” I said. “Apparently, they’re running out of rooms fast.”
Kayla nodded. “I’m jealous. Even if they had rooms available, I don’t think I could swing a thousand dollars a night.”
I grinned. “A thousand dollars a night is a small price to pay; just ask any big-time guy who’s lonely,” I said teasingly. The smile fell off of Kayla’s face all at once and I tried to salvage my remark. “I mean, it sucks that you couldn’t find a room here.”
“Yeah, the more I look over the listings the more I’m convinced I’ll just have to head back to the airport and sleep in the terminal,” Kayla said.
“At least if you had a boyfriend, you could cuddle up to someone,” I pointed out, and a look flashed across her face that was so sad, angry, and upset that I knew I’d put my foot in my mouth again but then it was gone before I could apologize.
“At this point, I’m not really interested in cuddling with anyone,” she said quickly. “Mostly just into the idea of a nice, big, clean bed with thick blankets, and maybe a decent-sized bathtub.”
“That does sound great,” I admitted. “If you have to be stranded somewhere, being able to get a decent night’s sleep and a good bath are at least good consolation prizes.”
“What brings you to Omaha? I don’t remember if you said,” Kayla said.
“I had to make an emergency landing,” I told her. “So, I’m stranded like you.”
“Where were you headed?” I shrugged.
“I have a place in Montauk I was going to be staying at with some friends for the holidays, but they all backed out, so it’s going to just be me,” I explained. “What about you? Where were you on your way to before the weather screwed us both?”
“I was headed home to my family in Green River,” Kayla said. “It’s this little town in Maryland.”
“Sounds fun!”
Kayla laughed bitterly but before she could say anything, the waitress brought our drinks and gave my card back to me.
“I went ahead and had the bartender make you two seven-and sevens,” the waitress explained, putting them both down in front of me. “I hope that’s okay?”
“That’s fine,” I told her, taking the receipt and signing it with a fairly large tip—it was the holiday season, after all. Two drinks would be enough time to hang out while I waited for my room to be readied for me, and it would give me an excuse to continue talking to Kayla.
She left us again, and I tried to think of some other conversational mine to tap with the beautiful woman I’d sat down with. “You know, there are probably plenty of lonely guys in the casino who’d love to have someone to spend the holiday with,” I pointed out.
One of Kayla’s red-auburn eyebrows rose and she frowned. “Not really the way I want to spend my time,” she said blandly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest anything by it. It was a joke. A bad one.” The faintest trace of a smile came back on Kayla’s face and I was relieved. Even at the best of times, I’m not always great at chatting up women. I’ve never really had that easygoing feeling, that sense of how to joke with someone in a way that would come across the right way.
“It wasn’t the worst one I’ve heard today,” Kayla said with a little more smile on her face. “I guess I’m just sensitive.”
“I think you’re kind of entitled to that after traveling all day and finding yourself stranded right before Christmas,” I pointed out. “If anyone’s allowed to be sensitive, it’s someone who’s been so disappointed.”
“I guess it’s actually not that bad,” Kayla said. “I mean—I love my family and all—but they’re kind of a lot to deal with, especially when I’m single. My sister just had a baby earlier this year.”
“Ah, yeah,” I agreed, nodding. I raised my glass and Kayla followed suit. “To us, alone for the holiday and not caring about it.” Kayla grinned and we clinked our glasses together and whatever stupid things I’d said were under the bridge.
We talked about other stuff for a bit but my mind kept going back to the fact that Kayla had nowhere to stay for the night. She was truly stranded; and even if there were a couple of rooms at the casino, she didn’t seem to be able to afford them. It was a real shame. I hated picturing her returning to the airport and curling up on some chairs next to a gate somewhere, or slumped over a cup of coffee at a Starbucks, waiting for something to open up.
“You know, I keep thinking about the fact that you’re having trouble finding somewhere to stay for the night or two you’ll be in town,” I said, interrupting Kayla in the middle of telling me some story about her college years.
“Yeah, I keep thinking of that, too,” Kayla said dryly but she smiled.
I had to admit that I’d had a better time just chatting with her for the ten or fifteen minutes since I’d sat down than I had hanging out with my friends—a better time than I would have even had on the plane if they’d come with me. It had been a while since I’d been with anyone romantically; after my last relationship ended in a total fiasco, and I’d realized most of the women who would approach me only did so because they knew I had money, I’d more or less given up.
And I didn’t think for a second that anything would really happen with Kayla. But I thought that it would be worth the trouble to at least spend a little more time with her, and not in the kind of depressing bar but somewhere with a little more energy.
“Maybe we could work something out,” I said. I saw Kayla starting to bristle at my words and shook my head, raising a hand to forestall her. “What I mean is, I have a room. You need a room. There’s a casino right down the hall from us. We could gamble for it.” Kayla frowned but it wasn’t an angry one. Instead, she looked almost confused.
“What do you mean, gamble for it? You’ve already got the room,” she pointed out.
“I mean that I’m willing to put it up, and we can try our luck,” I told her. “If I lose then I’ve got backup plans I can call into play. And for you, the worst-case scenario is that you’re in the same spot you are right now, right?”
Kayla thought about that for a moment and I wondered if I’d pushed things too far. I could have just offered her my room and come up with something on my own but I suspected that she would probably not go for that—she’d feel guilty, or her pride would be offended.
“I don’t know,” Kayla said. “I mean, it seems like you’re just making an excuse to spend more time with me.”
I grinned. “And if I am? I mean, better here than at the airport, right? The casino will at least be warm and there will be some actual people there. It’ll be a fun way to spend some time.”
Kayla gave me a long look, and I could practically see the wheels turning in her mind.
“How would we gamble on the room, and h
ow do I know you’ll live up to your end?” She crossed her arms over her chest, looking at me intently. I took the key card out of my pocket and showed it to her.
“This is the key card for my room. It’s the Presidential suite, the best one they have,” I explained. “I can write and sign a note saying that I turn over the room to you. and if you win, you get the key card and the note, and we’ll go to the reception desk together to make sure they don’t kick you out.”
Kayla looked at the room card, her lips pressing together as she thought about it some more. I fully planned to play fair. If she won, I would give her the room. I wasn’t going to throw the game or anything but I definitely wanted to spend some more time with her, and gambling for my room seemed like a good bet. I just had to make sure she took the bait.
Chapter Five
Kayla
At first, I thought that Dean was making a pass at me, offering to put up his hotel room, especially after the comments about people paying good money to avoid loneliness. I also didn’t entirely like the idea of playing him in the casino attached to the hotel; it didn’t seem entirely fair to him. I’d been playing poker since I was five, and I had more than the average level of skill at it.
But another quick look through my phone at the listings for the hotels in the area told me that there was literally not one single room within a reasonable distance of the airport to stay at. If I wanted a hotel room, I’d have to be on the opposite end of the sprawling city, and that was assuming I could even get there with the weather starting to kick up even more.
“I don’t know if I could do that to you,” I say, shaking my head.
“Do what? It’s totally fair. If I beat you then you’re stuck with whatever bed you can make yourself at the airport,” Dean said with a shrug.
I could see the little gleam in his bright blue eyes and thought he was exactly the kind of player I liked going up against the most: one who was so confident of his luck that he took stupid risks and almost always ended up losing.
But I also thought that he was doing this to give me a chance at the room without just giving it to me. He’d given the waitress a better tip than I’d ever given anyone in my life. Obviously, he was generous.
“Why don’t we do this: play for money to start,” I suggested. “That way it’s not all or nothing, you know?” I figured I could win some money off of the guy and if nothing else, I’d have enough to be able to buy a bunch of really comfortable blankets and pillows to sleep at the airport with. If he was really good, I’d go on with the program and maybe see if he was still willing to wager his room.
“Okay, if you want a few warm-up rounds, we can do that,” Dean said, looking amused. He’s not going to be so pleased with himself after he loses a few hands. I finished off my martini and watched him start in on his second seven-and-seven.
“Do you want another drink?” he asked.
I shook my head. “There’s probably someone taking drink orders in the casino anyway, and I don’t want to risk being drunk at the airport.”
“That’s probably wise.” Dean picked up his drink and gestured toward the connecting tunnel between the bar and the casino. “Shall we?”
“Well, shouldn’t we decide on a game first?” I wasn’t sure what the casino boasted but it was probably at least a handful of different games. I could almost certainly count on there being a few blackjack tables, which was my game of choice. There were probably one or two Texas Hold’em tables, too, which was almost as good.
“Let’s see what they have, and then decide,” Dean suggested, and I went along with that. I made sure I’d finished off both of my martinis and got up. I felt that slightly woozy, lightheaded sensation that always seemed to come when I drank a few cocktails in rapid succession while seated but it cleared up a moment later, so I figured I was still pretty solid for playing a few rounds of poker.
I started to walk toward the casino area and realized that Dean was behind me a few steps. I could almost feel his gaze taking in the shape of my body but it didn’t feel creepy, the way it does with most guys. Just appreciative. After what happened with Brandon, it was actually kind of nice to be unobtrusively appreciated.
I’d been right, I saw as Dean and I both stepped into the casino area. There were a handful of blackjack tables, some Hold’em, a few roulette and craps tables, and two huge banks of slot machines. I definitely wasn’t going to have anything to do with any one-armed bandits but I could definitely go for a few rounds of cards and not risk losing too much. There was almost no chance that Dean was up to my level, and even if I played poorly, I had an edge on him that he didn’t know about.
We both went up to the cashier and I thought about how much to start with. I’d have liked a bankroll of at least a thousand but there was no way to justify getting that much in chips. My budget wasn’t ready for it, and if I somehow did manage to lose that much, it was going to put a cramp in my ability to even get the rest of the way home. I took out my card and told the man behind the counter to give me two hundred in chips.
“I’ll take five hundred,” Dean told the man. It wasn’t great, having him start with a higher bankroll than me, but I’d done it before. If I played well, it wouldn’t matter after maybe two or three hands.
I looked around again and tried to decide whether it would be a good idea to make a beeline for my favorite game, the one I was best at. If you go straight to blackjack he might catch on sooner. But did I really want to prolong my time with him?
“So, what game do you want to try and play against me at?” I turned to Dean as he worked his chips in his hand.
He shrugged. “Blackjack seems like fun, and I’m not really entirely sure I know how the betting for Hold’em goes. Besides, it’s either those two or basically craps, right? I feel like there’s not a very good opportunity for specifically betting against each other at craps. No skill involved, you know?”
I raised my eyebrows at that but he kind of had a point, at least about craps.
“Blackjack is fine,” I said. Of course, at a casino like this it would be tricky to work out the rules for how we would bet specifically against each other but maybe we could work something out. Maybe just base it on who won each round.
We walked over to the only empty table for blackjack, and I found out that Dean had already anticipated the issue. “Let me ask you for a favor, my man,” Dean said as we both sat down a couple of seats away from each other.
“Sir?” The dealer looked like he was maybe a couple of years younger than me, barely old enough to be doing the job. But I’d known plenty of dealers, and he wouldn’t be out front if he wasn’t good.
“Can you call up the front desk—or whoever—and ask them if I could pay to basically have this table be just between me and my companion here?”
The dealer looked confused for a moment. “You don’t want to play against the house?”
Dean and I both shook our heads.
“We just want to play against each other,” I explained. “If you can swing it, that is. Otherwise, we can figure something out.”
The dealer shrugged. “Let me get permission. You are staying at the hotel, right?”
Dean nodded. “I’ve got the Presidential suite. Dean Pearson. If you need me to pay for reserving the table, I’m happy to do it.” This guy had already thrown down easily almost six hundred dollars total, and it was like he was just looking for ways to spend more money. Just how rich is this guy? I’d played against guys with lots of money before but I thought that if nothing else, he’d be a pretty comfortable guy to lose to. Of course, I reminded myself: guys who accumulated the kind of money that would let them just reserve a high-end hotel suite and throw down five hundred dollars at a moment’s notice were not always so cavalier. Sometimes, they got pissy if they lost.
The dealer picked up the phone under the table and dialed a number, and I settled into my seat, thinking about how I would play it. If I made it obvious too soon that I knew exactly what I was doing at t
he blackjack table, I might scare Dean off before he re-offered to bet his hotel room. But I was at a disadvantage on bankroll. I couldn't afford to lose too heavily. I’d have to play the thing carefully.
While we were waiting for an answer from the dealer, a waitress came up to the table. “Can I get either of you anything?”
Dean shook his head, gesturing to the drink he’d brought with him from the bar. “I’m fine but I think Kayla here could use something to drink.”
“If I could just have a glass of water for right now, I’ll be happy,” I told her.
She looked disappointed, or as disappointed as she would let herself look, dealing with a customer. I knew she’d been counting on the tips from a liquor order, and I would definitely make up the difference. It wasn’t her fault that I knew better than to get tipsy when there was something at stake other than a good time.
“I’ll be right back with that, then,” the waitress said. I took my wallet out of my purse and pulled out a twenty for her, just as the dealer was getting his answer.
“I can let you rent the table to play against each other for fifty dollars an hour,” the dealer said. “Normally, it would be more but you can see we’re a bit slow tonight.”
Dean nodded and before I could even think about putting the twenty I’d just taken out toward the dealer, to pay for half, he had a fifty out of his own wallet. This guy couldn’t be bleeding money more if he had it running in his veins. He took out another twenty and handed both to the dealer.
“The twenty’s for you,” Dean said, giving the man a quick look. The dealer was more than happy to take it—it was probably a bigger tip than he’d made most of the night. He started shuffling and the waitress came back with my water. Not wanting to be outdone by Dean’s generosity to practically everyone in the hotel and casino that he’d met so far, I handed her the twenty and told her to keep an eye on us. We might want actual drinks a little later.
I was trying to get into the mode, into the groove of playing. I took a deep breath, reminding myself I’d done this so many times that I shouldn’t even be robbing this poor rich man. Throw the first couple of hands and then come back from it.