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LIKE THE RESTAURANT above, the casino below was expensively and tastefully decorated. The dress of the dealers, game operators, and pit bosses reflected a 1920’s Prohibition theme, giving the casino the ambiance and feel of a speakeasy. Powerful air conditioning and ventilation systems removed the cigarette and cigar smoke from the air but left a faint residue that burned and irritated Heat’s eyes. He could smell the different varieties of tobacco, however faint, in the air he breathed.
Not wanting to babysit Blondie, Heat gave her a "bonus" of one hundred dollars in chips to play as she liked. Like a heat-seeking missile, Blondie made her way to the roulette wheel. Heat sat down to play blackjack.
Thirty minutes passed, and Heat had broken even, playing conservatively and betting even more so. A crowd had gathered around the roulette wheel with Blondie at the center of it. Heat shook his head. The cute blonde might be up now, but by the time he was ready to move to another table, Heat was confident Blondie would be bust.
The House always wins.
Still, Blondie's winning streak had the desired effect. It drew other gamblers to the roulette table to watch, including the other two players at the blackjack table. With a dealer change coming soon, Heat figured it was as good a time as any. He tossed a hundred dollars’ worth of chips on the table as he collected his chips. A generous tip by any stretch of the imagination.
“Thank you, sir,” the dealer cheerfully replied, collecting the tip. “Please, come again.”
“My pleasure,” Heat answered, looking closely at the woman’s face. She looked to be in her late fifties, possibly early sixties. While life had left its mark, the woman did not bear the signs of wear and tear a life of hard living would leave on a face.
He took a chance. “Helping out with the grandkids private school tuition?”
At the mention of grandchildren, a broad smile broke out on the woman’s face. “My son-in-law works at a plant in Baytown. He got hurt and can’t work for a while. Workman’s comp helps a lot, but without the overtime, they’re hurting. So, I take a few shifts a week to help out.”
Heat returned her smile. “That’s what grandma’s do.”
Another hundred dollars in chips appeared on the table, Heat’s hand partially covering it. “I need you to look at a picture. All you have to do is look. If you’ve seen the person in the picture, great. If not, the chips are still yours.”
A loud groan went up from the roulette table, and Blondie's voice could be heard using language no lady would utter. Everyone laughed in response, and the crowd began to break up, the gamblers each going their own way, the shared moment over.
Taking a picture of Wolf from his shirt pocket, Heat sat it down on the table and made a show of patting his pockets with both hands while grandma took a good look. He pocketed the picture and stood up, a smile on his face.
“I’ve seen this man a couple of times.”
“Did he lose?”
“Sometimes. Other times he won. But I never got the feeling that was why he was here.”
“Oh? How so?”
“He wasn’t having fun.”
—-
HIS PLANS TO SEDUCE Amy put on hold, Ben politely dropped her off. He ended the night with an appropriate kiss. Just long enough to give a hint of passion and desire, but not so long as not to be chaste.
The seduction had been planned to be a test. To see if Amy Nguyen was, in fact, the girl he was looking for. If she had the tattoo on her left hip, a branding mark, so to speak, with the accompanying skills such a girl would be expected to have.
It was a disappointing conclusion to the evening, but Ben couldn't afford to force himself on his target. Not yet, not until he was sure. He had two more weeks to finish the task. Ben could afford to wait a few days and they had agreed on another date for Saturday night.
Ben smiled in anticipation. He liked expensive nights out on the town. He'd show Amy a great time all under the guise her week had been horrible, and she deserved it. She'd be putty in his hands when it came time for the kiss goodnight.
—-
WISHING SHE HAD MORE clients like the man whose money she was losing, Blondie realized she didn’t even know his name. She laughed to herself. He didn’t know her name either. Not that Blondie would have told her client her real name. She had lots of names that she used with her clients. For that matter, if the client wanted to and was a regular, he could give her a name that only he called her. Keeping her real name a secret was one of the ways Jenny Boudreaux kept her sanity.
Ever watchful and hyperaware of her surroundings, Blondie noticed one of the pit bosses had taken an interest in Heat. The one time she’d asked for more chips, Heat had been happy to give her more. When asked if he was up or down, his response had been even.
Being even didn’t attract the attention of a pit boss. But being careless when showing a picture to the dealers would.
She'd had fun and wouldn't have to go somewhere else in her mind that night while she earned the rest of her fee for the evening. If she planned to collect, Blondie would have to get her generous client out of the place in one piece.
Taking both hands, Blondie adjusted her assets. She positioned them for better viewing in her low-cut dress and put what remained of her chips in the tiny purse she carried. With the well-practiced walk of a seemingly inebriated woman, she soberly made for her tall, blue-eyed benefactor of the evening. With a wink at the men at the blackjack table, Blondie slipped into Heat's lap and draped her arms around his neck, slurring her words.
“Momma wants some lovin’ from her big strong man.”
“Not now,” Heat said firmly.
“Please,” she teased, kissing Heat on his ear lobe while whispering, “We need to leave. One of the pit bosses has taken an interest in you.”
Heat's eyes got wide, and as Blondie bit down on his earlobe, he cleared his throat as if suddenly embarrassed. Tossing a twenty-dollar chip on the table to tip the dealer, Heat hurriedly stood up and collected his chips.
“Um, excuse me, gentlemen,” he said. “Duty calls.”
Giving Blondie a firm smack on her round bottom, Heat leered at her while pulling her close. "Let's go get a room," he announced for those nearby to hear.
Blondie earned the rest of her money as she put on a show of being a drunken working girl eager to finish earning her pay for the evening. Once outside, the blonde stood up and walked normally, distancing herself from Heat.
“You need a ride?”
“No, I’ll get an Uber.”
Heat paused for a moment. “No. We still need to settle up. Let’s go somewhere and get a cup of coffee.” He grinned. “Last of the big spenders, that’s me!”
Blondie laughed despite herself. She liked this one. If she played her cards right, maybe he’d become a regular.
