HE HAD TO admit, dinner went better than he thought it would. As much as Bert liked to bluster about his daughter’s lousy cooking, Morgan thought the whole meal was delicious. Even Dustin asked for seconds, which was saying something since it wasn’t macaroni and cheese.
The conversation stayed light and Jacqui laughed often, a sound to which Morgan could become accustomed. He helped Jacqui with the dishes, while Bert pulled out a dusty Candyland game and challenged Dustin.
“Be careful,” Jacqui said as Dustin tried pushing her father’s chair into the other room. “He cheats.”
“Bah. She just sucks at the game and is a poor loser to boot.”
Morgan laughed as Jacqui just rolled her eyes. “Cheating’s not nice,” little Dustin said as they disappeared through the doorway.
“Take it easy on him, Dustin,” Morgan called after them as he grabbed a dish towel from the front of the stove. “Shall we?”
Jacqui looked at him, her eyes full of the laughter she was holding inside. “How about we just fill the dishwasher and Sophia can empty it in the morning? You only said I had to cook. Nothing was mentioned about cleaning as well.”
“True. I didn’t say anything about cleaning,” he said, laughing as he put the towel back. “Dishwasher it is, then.” He scraped the dishes as she stacked them in the dishwasher. It was good to see she wasn’t completely helpless. He would have been disappointed if she were.
Once his part was done, he leaned back on the counter, watching her finish her part of the task. His eyes stayed drawn to the way her slacks pulled taut over her ass and he wanted so bad to run his hands over her backside. “Tonight was a lot of fun. Thank you for inviting us over. It was good seeing Dustin having such a great time.” He leaned over and touched her arm, bringing her gaze up to his. “It was good hearing you having a good time as well.”
She smiled up at him and then nodded. “It felt good. Thank you for coming over.” She stood and he couldn’t take his eyes off hers. He wanted to kiss her but was afraid he’d scare her. He shouldn’t have been worried, though, as she placed a hand on his cheek, leaning in and pressing her lips—her soft, warm lips—to his. As she pulled away, she whispered, “It felt very good.”
He placed his hand over hers and squeezed. He would have said something sweet and romantic right then, except a little boy’s voice screaming “I win!” stole the moment.
“It’s about time someone beat my dad at a game,” Jacqui called out as they left the kitchen, entering the living room.
As they entered, Dustin was already setting the board up for another game. “Oh no, Squirt. It’s time for us to get you home and into bed.”
“It’s only eight-thirty,” Bert said. “Who goes to bed at eight-thirty?”
“Little boys who have a long drive ahead of them tomorrow.”
“Dad, I don’t drive. I’m only four.”
“How could I forget?” Morgan smiled over at his son.
“Why don’t you two go out and find something to do? This little cheat owes me a chance to beat him at Candyland.”
“Dad, Sophia’s heading out for an hour. You can’t watch a little boy. What if something goes wrong?”
Bert looked down at Dustin. “Do you promise not to get hurt while you’re here?”
“I promise. Can I stay, Daddy? Please? Please!”
He hadn’t seen his son in a couple of weeks and had no idea when he would see him again. How could he justify leaving him with a babysitter?
Dustin ran over and pulled on Morgan’s arm. “Please!”
He just smiled at his son before turning to Jacqui. “Do you ever go to the casinos?”
And just like that, stiff Jacqui returned. “No. I refuse to waste my money on games of chance that favor the house more than the gambler.”
“Life is a game of chance. You’ll never get the payoff if you never roll the dice. The people standing on the side of the craps table never have a chance to win, because they never take the risk and play. You have to risk getting in the game.” He took a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t going to regret the next suggestion. “C’mon. Let’s hit a casino and have some fun. We can gamble with my money. Then, you’re not risking anything.”
He watched as she battled within herself. Was he pushing too hard?
She sighed. “Okay. But just for a little while. And we use your money. Mine goes to the foundation and I will not take it out of other people’s pockets to waste it on some slot machine.”
“Don’t you keep any money for yourself?”
“Only enough to pay my bills. There are too many people hurting.”
He nodded. She thought she was being noble, and, in a way, she was. However, he didn’t doubt that her for-the-foundation mentality had people taking advantage of her penance act. Would he ever get her to break that habit? He had thought she was loosening up a little with the way things went this evening. Obviously, there was still more hurdles for him to jump. “Sounds fine to me. Where would you like to go?”
“I’ve never been, so I have no idea which ones are any good.”
He nodded. “They’re all equal. I’ll pick one, then.”
She just smiled, and he could tell she wasn’t happy that she had given in to him and her father. He’d just have to make sure she didn’t regret it.
“I’ll drive,” Morgan said. Looking over to Bert, he asked. “You sure you don’t mind watching him?”
“Only if he keeps beating me.”
Dustin just laughed at that. “Of course I’m going to win. I’m good at this game.”
“So it seems.” Bert sounded gruff, but Dustin obviously wasn’t fooled. The old man’s smile gave his rough exterior away.
Morgan knelt down in front of his son, his hand on the boy’s back. “How about it, Squirt? Do you want to stay here and continue to beat Bert, or would you rather go home?”
“Keep playing!”
Of course. Morgan stood, tousling his son’s hair as he straightened up. “Seems the odds are against you,” he said to Jacqui. “You’re stuck with me for a while longer.”
“Let’s hope the odds get better at the machines,” she said with a smirk.
“Oh, ouch. Mean.” Morgan laughed. “I’m still driving.”
“See. My odds still suck.”
“Get out. You two are breaking my concentration.” Bert waved them to the door.
“Shall we?” Morgan gestured with his hand for Jacqui to lead the way.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
What the hell am I doing? This is not like me. Why in the world did I allow them to talk me into this? I don’t even like gambling. This is stupid.
The internal lecture continued as she slid into the passenger seat of Morgan’s truck. She took a deep breath, frustrated at herself, but doing nothing to change it. She hated casinos. She saw them as taking from the community rather than giving back to it. People would sacrifice their hard earned cash, sometimes depriving their families of necessities, just on the minuscule chance that they would strike it big. Rarely did anyone ever strike it big. This is stupid, she repeated.
The evening, however, had been perfect. She even had to admit the pride she felt in conquering her avoidance of the back patio area and even in her interaction with Dustin. She would never be able to repay Morgan for the way he had put her at ease and assisted her in overcoming her fears. Staring out the passenger window as Morgan drove, her annoyance at being dragged to a casino was replaced with the warmth of having Morgan in her life. She knew he wasn’t there for long. He had a son to go home to, after all. Yet, while she didn’t know how she would handle him leaving, she was determined to make the most of the time she did have with him, even if it meant going to a casino.
She ran her tongue over her lips, remembering the kiss in the kitchen. She had instigated it this time. She had known he wanted to kiss her, could see it on his face. She had wanted him to as well, but knew that he wouldn’t pursue it. He was scared and she hadn’t really given him the signals he needed to press his advantage. The look on his face when she did, however, was worth it. She hoped he wouldn’t wait next time.
Morgan pulled up to the valet parking in front of the Treasure Bay Casino and Hotel and handed the keys to the attendant in exchange for a ticket stub. Treasure Bay was one of the casinos worst hit by Katrina. At one time, it had resembled a pirate ship that had been keelhauled, its innards visible to passersby and becoming nesting places for homeless birds. Once they hauled away the destruction, they began rebuilding on the other side of Highway 90 and off the Gulf. Gone was the pirate ship. Now, it appeared like any other building on the outside. Inside, however, it was a loud cacophony of bright, flashing lights and loud bells and whistles. Slot machines trilled their spinning wheels and occasionally announced their pittance of winnings. Gone were the coins dropping into the trays, although the new machines simulated the sound for the benefit of the winner and those around. But, since the hurricane and the loss of cash, the money had been replaced with paper tickets that could either be pushed back into another machine or traded in at the cashier for real money. Waitresses in black hose and short skirts wandered the rows with their trays, offering free drinks to anyone at a machine. Jacqui supposed keeping the patrons at the machines feeding quarters into the slots was worth the price of free booze. People never had to leave to go to the bar itself. She wouldn’t be surprised if some day they figured out how to get urinals attached. She had heard some die-hard gamblers actually wore diapers, a thought that made her shudder as they walked by several gamblers who looked like they had been there all day.
“So, what’s your poison? Slots? Dice? Cards?” Morgan slid up beside her as she stood at the ramp leading to the slot areas.
She glanced around at the spectacle before her, soaking it all in. There was no rhyme or reason to the people who filled the casino. They ran the gamut of age, sex, class, and race. It was a melting pot of people hoping to turn their meager offerings into a giant payoff. Most would go home disappointed. She turned to him and shrugged. “I’ve never been in a casino before, so I have no idea. I’ll trust your experience.” A couple of weeks ago, she wouldn’t have trusted him at all. Yet, the past few days had changed her opinion in a drastic way.
He smiled as he nodded. “We’ll start with the slots. Those are easy. You pop in your money and pull a lever.” He gestured with his arm for her to take the lead. “You pick a machine and that’s where we’ll start. I have no idea which ones are better than others, so it doesn’t matter which ones you choose.”
Although she still didn’t feel right about being there, she had said she would join him, so there was no sense in making a big deal of it. She thought gambling was risky. She preferred sure bets. It was probably why she had not particularly cared for hiring Rutherford Construction in the beginning. She was gambling on a new company when there were others she already trusted she could rely on to get the job done right. It seemed risky. She didn’t like risk.
She entered the banks of machines, not sure what she was really looking for as she did. People sipped drinks, pulled levers, and smoked cigarettes as, with glazed eyes, they watched the spinning wheels in front of them. She glanced back and forth as she walked, taking it all in, the noise plummeting her ears. As she passed another row of machines, she noticed Vince sitting at a machine, a bourbon in his hand. He turned, their eyes locking for a second before she rushed on, hoping he wouldn’t follow them. The night was going well, and she didn’t want it ruined by him causing a scene. If Morgan saw him, he didn’t say anything, but she felt his hand on the small of her back as she kept walking.
Finally, when she thought they were far enough away from where Vince was sitting, she picked two empty seats in front of a machine with polar bears on the front and sat down. She slipped her purse into her lap and glanced up at Morgan. “Now, what do we do?”
His eyebrows rose a little as he stared at her. “You’ve lived in Biloxi how long?”
“Eighteen years.”
“And you’ve truly never been in a casino?”
She cocked her head to the right. “And why do you find that hard to believe? I’ll bet there are hundreds of people in this city who have never crossed into one of the casinos.” She stared back at the dancing polar bears. “My life has been busy.”
He didn’t say anything else. Slipping a ten-dollar bill into the machine, he gave her a brief run down on how to place her bets and where the wins and losses would appear. “All you do is pull the lever. Or just push the button. Personally, pulling the lever feels more like gambling the way it should be done to me. It’s all about the experience, after all.”
She bet that was his motto for life from what she had seen about him. She refrained from making the comparison out loud, however. She reached up and pulled the lever. The wheels began to spin, and she watched as two polar caps and a penguin came to a halt on her screen. Money lost.
“Just keep playing. You win some and lose some. That’s why they call it gambling.”
“Feels more like being robbed.”
He laughed and, although she didn’t smile, she did notice that his laugh had an easygoing manner to it. It had a comforting sound that put her at ease. He was getting exceptionally good at having that effect on her. Usually, men who thought they were charming weren’t as charming as they thought. Yet, Morgan was that charming, and it had broken through her defenses. She reached up and pulled the lever again.
One of the several waitresses that wandered around approached Morgan, the cup of her ass trying hard to peek out from under her skirt. Jacqui lifted an eyebrow at the brazen outfit, wondering if they also had a strip club in the place. “Would you like anything?”
He glanced around the waitress at her. “How about it? I know you said you don’t drink, but it’s part of the experience. You want the whole effect, right?”
No, I do not want the whole experience, Mr. Brewer. “I don’t drink. You go ahead if you must. I prefer to keep my judgment from being impaired. That’s part of their ploy, I am sure. They want you to get drunk, so you don’t realize how much you are truly losing in their place.”
“What do you care what you’re losing? It’s my money. One drink won’t kill you.”
She closed her eyes as the feeling of guilt once again threatened to throw her back into hiding. One drink can do a lot more damage than you realize, Mr. Brewer. One drink can be the difference between Heaven and Hell. “No, thank you. I do not drink.”
He stared at her a moment and left it at that. “Just a whiskey for now, thank you.” The waitress sashayed off to fill his order and Jacqui pulled the lever again. More money lost.
A few moments later, Morgan received his drink, tipped the girl—no way she was old enough to be called a woman—and they continued to lose his money. Well, she did, that is. He won some and lost some—all part of the game, he kept saying. Somehow, she was missing out on that part of the game. She lost all except a dollar of the ten he started her with and was about to throw in the chips when three polar bears landed across her screen and bells jingled as the sound of coins filling a tray sounded in front of her. She glanced down, but, when she saw the empty tray, she remembered what Morgan had said about the casinos switching to paper returns over coins. She sighed. That was a sad change. She would have enjoyed seeing the coins fill her tray, even if it was only three dollars.
“Hey, well done!” He said, glancing over.
She smiled. She had to admit it felt good to win some back. She reached up and pulled the lever again. Lost again. However, the next time she pulled it, she won and won a decent amount. She felt a giddy sensation in her stomach as the sound of coins filling a tray rang out again. She continued to play, only now she was winning more than losing and soon the ten dollars was a hundred. Morgan ordered another drink and asked if she wanted one this time. “It’s part of the experience, remember? One drink won’t hurt. You’re not an alcoholic or anything, are you? It’s not against some religious code, is it? I don’t want to be pushing you into something that I shouldn’t be.”
“No, I’m not an alcoholic nor do I follow some religion. I just choose not to drink.”
“You tried a beer at dinner the other night and enjoyed it. “ He gave her a disarming smile as he leaned closer to her, quite apparent in his desire to coax her into one. “One drink. To celebrate a fantastic evening and your winnings.”
Always so charming. She took a deep breath. Other than the beer he had forced upon her, it had been two years since her last drink. Some would say it was that drink that saved her life. She couldn’t agree. It had been that drink that had changed her life forever. Yet, what had abstaining from alcohol done for her? All it did was make her remember what she could never forget. She looked at the man beside her, the bangs of his almond hair dangling in his eyes. “Okay, one drink. Something fruity.”
He glanced up at the waitress and smiled, not a smile of victory, but of simply convincing someone to have a good time with him. “A rum runner.” She shook her head, already knowing she was going to regret her decision. She pulled the lever and won another twenty dollars. They both laughed as they continued playing.