In the Cards(2)

“Miss, I need to see some ID.” I tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear and glance at the line forming behind her. I don’t want to lose those tips to John.

“Oh.” She bats her lashes and leans into the bar, offering me a better view of her cleavage. “I didn’t bring my wallet to the pool.”

Her form of foreplay is yet another excellent perk of my job. I admire the way she fills out her cherry-red suit before I meet her eyes again.

“I’m not askin’ for money, doll. I need proof of your age. I’d bet all my tips today you’re not twenty-one.”

“Am too.”

Her childish remark and refusal to meet my gaze only confirm my suspicion. Part of me admires her cheeky attitude. Hell, she’s damn cute. Under other circumstances she might tempt me to break a rule or two, but I won’t risk getting fired today.

Unwilling to waste more time or lose paying customers, I fix her a virgin daiquiri and charge her room. She beams, apparently thinking she’s fooled me into serving her alcohol, and throws a generous tip on the bar. As she struts her string-bikinied bottom away from me, I notice her sip her beverage and then stop midstride. Scowling, she turns to protest, but I’m busy with other customers. Drawing the left side of my mouth upward, I wink at her.

Accepting defeat, she skulks away, which causes me to chuckle. Nice try, little girl. Returning my attention to my other customers, I plaster a smile on my face and tend to a fetching blonde.



At five o’clock, I break for dinner. Thankfully, Pop seems to have vanished as quickly as he’d arrived. Now I can enjoy an hour of sun on the beach with my burger and book before setting up for tonight’s big New Year’s Eve party.

I find an empty lounge chair next to Dan, a waiter here who’s let me camp out in his living room for the past month. He’s the ideal roommate—lives in the moment, doesn’t ask a lot of questions. We’ve had a good time together, but I can hardly wait to hit the road. My grin must tip Dan off to my thoughts, because he smiles and shakes his head.

“I envy you, Levi,” he says. “Wish I could pick up and move to Vegas.”

“You’re a good guy, but you can’t play poker for shit.” I chuckle. “Too many tells. You’d be eaten alive.”

“Big talk from a small-town player.” He watches me chow down on my burger. “I’ve seen you clean up around here. But how do you know you won’t lose your shirt out there with all the pros?”

I hesitate, careful of what to reveal.

“ ’Cause when I was six, my pop was dealing me cards instead of tossing baseballs in the yard.” In fact, Pop made me play some of those so-called pros. I beat them at seventeen, so I’m pretty sure I can beat them now.

“Your dad sounds cool.” Dan crosses his arms.

Cool? Not really. I’d have preferred school and sports teams to the years spent living on the run. Then again, now my expertise gives me a shot at legally banking enough cash to escape the rat race for good.

“Even so, you’re only twenty-three.” Dan crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Lots of people have been playing longer than you.”

“True, but they’ll underestimate me because of my age and rough edges.” I grin thinking of the sixteen grand I’ve already banked during the past few years while working the resort circuit along the Gulf Coast and preparing for my next step.

I’ll be arriving in Vegas with enough cash to enter the better poker tournaments. I’ve met plenty of smart players who make steady money at the tables. If I’m careful, live cheap, and invest well, I can set myself up pretty nicely, especially if I also tend bar at some hot club and make great tips. “By the time they realize it, it’ll be too late.”

I consider the help Dan’s given me since we met in October. He’s been the closest thing I’ve ever had to a friend, which differs from the superficial acquaintances and one-night stands I’m most comfortable with.

“When I get settled, you can come visit. Maybe you’d be safe at the blackjack tables.” I snicker.

“Sounds like a plan.” Dan smiles and notices the book in my hand. “But if I come, you’ve got to put your books down long enough to make it fun.”

I grin but don’t bite back. Books saved me from being an ignorant son of a bitch I couldn’t respect. And unlike people, a good story rarely disappoints. I glance at him again.

“Thanks for letting me crash at your place.”

I’m mighty grateful for Dan’s help. I’ll be sure to leave him a generous gift for his inconvenience, though I suspect we won’t actually keep in touch once I’m gone.