Throb

Cooper

The first thing I notice as I step foot into the casino is the costume the dealers are wearing. It’s basically little more than lingerie. In their red corsets and short black skirts, they look more like they belong at Hugh Heffner’s mansion than at a casino about to deal cards. I follow the sign to the high-stakes room with renewed purpose in my step.

It’s six in the morning, so the only people still playing cards are the degenerate gamblers and the drunks. Both appear to be at Kate’s table as I approach.

She watches me intently as I take a seat and pull my billfold from my pocket.

“Cash in.” She lays out my ten one-hundred-dollar bills on the felt table and turns to a suit, who nods.

“What can I get for you this morning, sir?” She arches an eyebrow and, just like the first time I met her, my damn dick twitches in my pants.

“Whatever you want to give me.” No one at the table notices our exchange. There’s four players, an old guy wearing a thick gold bracelet and four different diamond rings, and a group of three drunk young people who may have gotten in using fake IDs.

She pushes a stack of chips in my direction and smiles. “Good luck, sir.” Another damn twitch.

She deals the first hand and I win. “Looks like you’re lucky this morning.”

“Maybe it’s the dealer bringing me luck.”

She deals another hand. “Hmmm … well you better hope not. I’m off in twenty minutes.”

I win again, but the old guy loses his last stack of chips. He throws down his cards and leaves the table, muttering something about assholes and luck.

“So are you going to say yes if he proposes?” The tall blonde sways as she takes a drink from the waitress. She hasn’t anted up yet and Kate is holding the next deal to give her time to pile her chips in the circle.

Kate’s eyes flash quickly to me and then back to Swaying Blonde. Laying her hand on the table next to the empty circle, Kate politely asks, “Will you be sitting this one out?”

Drunk Guy pipes in, “Shut up about the bachelor asshole already and play cards. She already told you an hour ago she can’t talk about the show.” I prefer Dickhead, but asshole works too.

Swaying Blonde stacks a pile of black chips, not even flinching when she loses a thousand-dollar hand. I’d bet my bank balance it’s Daddy’s money. “She said she can’t talk about it. But maybe she can nod or something.”

“I don’t get your obsession with that guy anyway. He’s a scrawny poser.”

“He is not a scrawny poser.”

Drunk Guy shrugs. “Whatever. Ante up and pay attention to your cards.”

The table falls silent and I win another two hands. Five in a row, it has to be a record for me. Kate smiles as she pays the last win. “Looks like your luck keeps getting better today.”

“I hope so. I’m hoping to get lucky trying my hand at something new this afternoon,” I say cryptically.

Unfortunately, Swaying Blonde was just taking a few moments to gather her idol-worshiping thoughts. She continues, “I knew the first time he kissed you that you two would wind up together in the end.”

Kate ignores her comment and keeps dealing, but Swaying Blonde doesn’t take a hint. “That episode where he sings to you and you slow dance together.” She clutches her chest. “It’s like watching an old movie. You build a friendship, but behind it there’s so much passion.” She sighs. “You two were just made for each other.”

Jaw tight, I watch Kate’s face as she deals the final face-up cards, but she doesn’t look up. Not until she leans toward me to sweep the double stack of chips. “Looks like my luck just changed.” I toss my cards, stand and walk toward the door without looking back.

Fifteen minutes later she opens the passenger car door outside of the casino—where I should have waited, rather than surprising her early. My whole mood has changed and I know I’m acting like a jerk for taking it out on her, yet I can’t seem to bring color to my own self-induced grey mood.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say as I navigate the large circular casino driveway, although I’m not sure I really mean the words. Deep down I think I do blame her, maybe not for how the words were delivered tonight, but for not being able to give us a clean start. It’s selfish, I know it is, I’ve seen the reasons she’s doing what she’s doing, but I want her without any qualifiers. Sneaking around, hiding something I feel the urge to publicly claim as mine, isn’t in me.

Kate puts her hand over mine on the gear shifter and we drive in uncomfortable silence.

“Long-term parking is in Concourse B,” she says as I pass the sign.

“Not going to long-term parking. The private jet terminal has its own parking lot.”

“We’re flying on a private plane?”

“Montgomery Productions and Diamond Entertainment co-own it. We use it mostly for films. I know you don’t want to be seen in public with me.” The last sentence comes out with a bite.

Neither of us says much as we exit the car on the tarmac and go through a quick and pain-free security check. The taxiing and takeoff are smooth, yet there’s turbulence in the hollow of my gut. Kate yawns, reminding me that even though I just woke up, she’s coming off a ten-hour shift on her feet.

“There’s a cabin in the back. The captain should give us the all-clear to get up soon. You should get some sleep, it’s a long flight.”