Cordy enjoyed the envious stares as he and Lavender promenaded through the lobby of the Bellagio, underneath the giant, multicolored glass flowers that decorated the ceiling. As a couple, they were cool and attractive, a perfect fit for the upscale surroundings. Cordy wore a black collarless silk shirt, a gold chain, and a crisply pressed tan linen suit. His shoes were polished to a reflective glow, and a waft of fragrance oozed from his slicked hair. Lavender wore a formfitting red bodysuit, with ovals strategically cut away to reveal generous patches of ebony skin and to confirm for everyone who stared that she wore neither a bra nor panties. She couldn’t have attracted more attention if she were naked.
As they entered the Bellagio’s elegant Japanese restaurant, he saw the eyes of a dozen Asian businessmen lock onto Lavender through a cloud of cigarette smoke. She flirted with them as she sat down, confidently staring back.
“What’s it like?” Cordy asked.
He didn’t say what he meant, but Lavender understood. The attention. The stares. What’s it like to trail men’s eyes wherever you go?
“I love it,” Lavender said. She had a sly smile and a breathy voice, with a hint of the street lingering in her twang. “I’m the queen, baby. I’ve got the power.”
She licked her broad lips with her tongue, and Cordy felt her shoeless foot stroking his ankle under the table. The waiter came over, a wizened, expressionless Japanese man in a starched tuxedo, and Lavender began ordering things he didn’t recognize, like ika, maguro, and uni.
“What are we getting?” Cordy asked when the waiter left.
“Tuna. Yellowtail. Squid. Sea urchin. Things like that.”
“Sea urchin? I’m going to throw up.”
“Trust me,” Lavender said.
Cordy jerked his thumb at the Asian businessmen at the other tables. “No offense, Lav, but why work where you do? I mean, shouldn’t you be living on an island with one of those guys?”
“You got a problem with what I do? If so, tell me now, okay? Don’t waste my time.”
“No, no,” Cordy protested.
Lavender jabbed a finger at him. “The only people who humiliate themselves are the guys drooling in the audience every night. I’m in control. They worship me. There’s nothing wrong with that. You ask why I do it. Simple. For the m-o-n-e-y.”
“Sorry,” Cordy said.
“Don’t be. Everyone asks. But you have to get over it, baby, or we’ve got a short evening ahead.”
The waiter brought a black lacquer tray, elegantly arrayed with gold-flecked rolls and slivers of fish, each tied to a sticky mound of rice with a black belt of seaweed. It turned out that Cordy liked sushi a lot, particularly the way Lavender balanced each piece on the chopsticks and fed him bites. She herself ate in a big way, stuffing a roll into her mouth and grinning at him as she wolfed it down. He didn’t recall ever being so turned on simply by eating dinner.
When they were done, Lavender ordered sake, and Cordy was surprised to find the liquor both hot and intoxicating, given how little fit into each glass and how smoothly it slid down his throat. They went through two miniature carafes before Cordy called for the check and paid it with a slight grimace of pain.
They left the restaurant, and Cordy discovered to his delight that they were now holding hands. Her hips swished against his side as they strolled through the casino. Her fingers rubbed the inside of his palm, and he realized that even that small touch aroused him. The stares of other patrons continued to follow them.
“So how come you’re not dating your hottie partner?” Lavender asked.
“Who, Serena? She’s a friend, and that’s that. Not my type.”
Lavender poked him in the side. “Yeah, right. She may have a few years on you, but she’s still a looker. You never made a play for her?”
Cordy shrugged. “She set me straight from day one. No hanky-panky. And everybody already knows her reputation. Guys ask her out, she cuts off their balls. She’s got barbed wire around her.”
“Why is that?” Lavender asked.
Cordy shook his head. “She hasn’t told me.” He let his hand slide down her back and come to rest on the curve of her buttocks. He rubbed her skin through one of the oval slits in her dress. “So you want to play for a while?”
“You mean gambling or fucking?”
“Isn’t it the same thing? I get screwed either way.”
Lavender threw her head back and laughed. “I like you, baby. Yeah, I like you.”
“I like you, too. Listen, I got a five-hundred-dollar bill in my wallet. Let me play until I lose it or double it, and then we’ll go to your place.”
Lavender tugged on his chin and planted her luscious lips on his mouth, pressing her tongue inside. “Just make it quick.”
Cordy steered her to the high-limit slots area. He normally played five-dollar blackjack at the tables at Sam’s Town, but he didn’t feel like sitting at a table and getting into the rhythm of the game. Besides, it felt like penny ante tonight. His luck was high, and he wanted to ride Lavender like a good luck charm. He chose a five-dollar Triple Play video poker machine that took up to five coins per hand, which meant the maximum bet on each pull was seventy-five dollars. Win or lose, it would be quick, and then they could get to the real business of the evening.
Over the next ten minutes, he shot ahead three hundred dollars, before sinking back after a quick series of losing hands. Then he hit a straight on two out of three hands and was well ahead again, although he hadn’t quite doubled his money. He felt the usual fever overtaking him, and the only thing that kept him from losing himself in the game was the sensation of Lavender’s fingers creeping closer to his crotch. Between the blips of the machine and the aching of his erection, his mind was flying.
He barely heard Lavender when she asked, “So did you and the hottie figure out what happened to Christi?”
“Damn!” He had a pair of aces, but he couldn’t pull a third ace on the draw. “What did you say?”
“Christi. The girl who got killed. Did you find out who did it?”
Cordy watched another seventy-five bucks come and go on the next series of hands. “Huh? Oh, not yet. Serena’s in Minnesota now.”
“Minnesota?”
Cordy nodded. “Yeah, the girl, Christi, came from some town up north in Minnesota. Looks like someone from home paid her a visit.”
Cordy bet the max again and held his breath. He pumped his fist when he saw four-fifths of a spade flush flip up on the original deal. “Come on, mama, give me a spade.”
Lavender wasn’t watching the screen. She let one finger slip between his legs, where she traced the swelling there. “Is that from me or the game?”
Cordy didn’t answer. He carefully held four cards, then punched the draw button and held his breath. “Fuck!”
Lavender sighed and removed her hand. She began studying her painted nails. “I see why I don’t gamble.”
“Huh?” Cordy said idly.
“Nothing. I’m surprised whoever killed Christi was from out of town. I would have thought it was that creepy boyfriend of hers.”
“Yes!” Cordy shrieked as the machine dealt him three kings. “Come on, four of a kind, four of a kind!”
He fluttered his fingers over the button, then pushed it with a silent prayer. The remaining cards popped up: three, ace, seven, nine, queen, king.
“Yes!” Cordy screamed, watching the fourth king fill out the third hand. “Yes!” He grabbed Lavender, wrapped her tightly in his arms, and planted a long, extended kiss on her lips, to which she responded with enthusiasm. When he disentangled himself and looked back, he saw he had doubled his money. More than five hundred bucks!
Cordy cashed out, relishing the loud clanking of five-dollar coins banging into the tray. He filled two plastic buckets with the coins and stacked them on top of each other as he peered around for the nearest change booth. With the buckets under one arm and Lavender hanging on his other side, he strutted through the casino as if he were on top of the world. At the booth, he handed the buckets to the attendant and watched her pile them into the counting machine, then licked his lips as the numbers shot over a thousand dollars.
It was only then that his brain caught up with the whirl of thoughts in his head. Cordy felt his blood turn to ice, and he swung around on Lavender, his face tense and his fantasies of sex and money leeching away.
“Boyfriend?”