Eyes wide with delight, Ryan ran over to the bed and dumped two huge plastic cups filled with quarters onto Jamie’s startled body. "I won a jackpot playing video poker! A great, big, fat royal flush. 2,500 quarters!"
"Ryan!" Looking at the clock, she saw that it was 6:30, and she was none too happy to have been woken by having a few pounds of dirty metal thrown onto her. "Why do you run out on me like that?" she asked grumpily. "I don’t like to wake up and not know where you are."
"I left two notes," the brunette muttered, a little pout forming.
"Can’t you stay in bed like normal people? The dawn can come without your help, ya know."
"I’m here now." The grin that won her heart began to form, and Jamie felt her own lips respond in kind. "I’d love to stay in bed and cuddle you until I have to go to the game. Isn’t it better to be in this nice, soft bed when we’re both awake?"
Jamie’s bad mood began to lift. She glanced at her watch and asked, "How long do we have?"
"Four and a half hours," Ryan said. "But I should get a bite to eat before I go."
"Oh, I’ll give you a bite," Jamie purred, drawing her partner down on top of her coin-covered body. "I’ll give you a bite to remember!"
The pair enjoyed one of the best mornings that either could recall. A large helping of each other, a long, playful shower in the sumptuous bath, and a delightful dim sum brunch in the hotel’s Chinese restaurant.
With great regret, Ryan exited the cab at the softball complex, with Jamie promising to return after she’d checked into the team motel. The blonde liked to watch the games, but watching warm-ups, batting practice and two seven-inning games while sitting on a backless bleacher was a little much – even for her.
After she got settled into their small, utilitarian room at the team motel, she flipped on the TV to while away an hour. The bed was firm, and the room was overly warm, but neither fact stopped her from falling asleep almost immediately. She woke slowly some time later, her neck stiff from the odd angle she’d been in. Stretching languidly, she looked at her watch and nearly jumped out of bed. "Two o’clock!"
Jumping into her shoes, she grabbed her backpack and ran for the lobby, only to have to wait twenty minutes for a cab. By the time she reached the field, the first game was in the top of the seventh, and she was almost relieved that Ryan was sitting on the bench, still in her warm-up jacket. At least I didn’t miss seeing her play, she thought in relief. I never would have heard the end of it.
The game was over in moments, and she waited patiently by the entrance to the locker rooms. Ryan might not have even noticed that I didn’t come on time, she mused. I don’t think she can see all of the stands from the dugout. The players started straggling out of the locker room, all of them giving her a friendly hello and a wave. Heather came out, obviously looking for her. "She’s okay, Jamie. It looks worse than it is."
Jamie’s eyes grew wide as her lover came limping out of the locker room, a massive ice bag secured to her knee, another to her elbow. Ryan’s face was a stoic mask of nonchalance, but Jamie ran to her, grasping her frantically. "Honey! Are you all right?"
"Hell, no, I’m not all right!" she said, wincing in pain. "Would you be all right if that had happened to you?"
"Well …" She started to say that she hadn’t seen what had happened, but she didn’t have the nerve to admit it at the moment.
"Have you ever seen such a collision? Jesus, it’s a wonder that I wasn’t carted away in an ambulance!" Ryan was shaking her head, grumbling to herself the entire time. "I guess you’re going to want me to go to the hospital, huh?"
"Didn’t a doctor look at you?"
"Nah. No doctor was available. I’ll probably be okay," she said, not looking very convinced. "I’m still a little woozy, but the double vision’s about gone."
Just then Coach Roberts came out of the men’s locker room, took one look at Ryan and asked, "What the hell’s wrong with you?"
"Nothin’," she said. "Only injury I might get is splinters from sitting on the bench."
"I’ll give you a splinter," he grumbled, cuffing her affectionately. "I thought maybe you’d sprained your arm playing the slots last night."
"Nah … I’m all about poker and blackjack."
"Doesn’t surprise me a bit, O’Flaherty. Go get those ice bags off and warm up. You might get off your butt for a change in the second game."
"Cool!" she cried, turning to share a smile with Jamie. She winced noticeably when she saw the cold fury in the jade green eyes. "Uhm … I was playing a practical joke on you. Funny, wasn’t it?"
Jamie didn’t say a word, but she took off after her, chasing her lover all around the field; nearly catching her several times since the ice bag on her knee slowed Ryan down. "You’re gonna need those ice bags when I’m done with you!" she cried.
"Can’t you take a joke?" Ryan gasped, leaping over a low bench.
"Yeah, I can take a joke," she panted. "Now we’re gonna see how well you can take one."
"What are you gonna do?" Ryan asked, eyes wide.
"Be ready, O’Flaherty. That’s all I’m gonna say. Be ready."
Ryan did indeed get the nod to start the second game, taking over for Jackie, who needed a rest after the heat of the Las Vegas sun proved to be too much for her. Ryan looked so darned cute with her cap pulled low over her eyes that Jamie couldn’t bear to be angry with her – even though she would have been well justified. Right before the game started, she called her over to the fence and handed her the little present she had been carrying ever since the start of the season. "I’ve been saving this for the first game you started," she said, pushing the package of ‘Big League Chew’ through a link of the fence.
Ryan smiled broadly and opened the foil packet. She took out a huge wad of the shredded bubble gum and stuck it in her mouth, chewing noisily until she got it down to a manageable size. "Thanks," she said, her expression bordering on a leer. "Hey, you busy after the game? I’ve got a single room." Merrily dancing eyebrows indicated that she didn’t expect to be alone in the room for long, and Jamie played along.
"It depends on how you play. I’m a Cal groupie, you know. I’m going home with the star of the game," she said. "If that’s you – fine. If not – that’s fine, too." With that, she tossed her head and went to her seat, turning before she sat down to confirm that Ryan was, as usual, staring at her ass. Giving it a little twitch, she sat and waved her off. "Play well," she drawled.
To prove her star status, Ryan ran out to first base full-tilt, performing a flawless flip right before she reached the bag. Jamie heard Coach Roberts yell, "For Christ’s sake, O’Flaherty!" and she knew he too had seen the extemporaneous performance.
Luckily for Ryan, she was the star of the game, thanks to a single in the sixth inning, which knocked in the winning run. She was filthy, as expected, having slid into second base, and Jamie was surprised to see yet another ice bag when the brunette emerged from the locker room, Heather in tow. Jamie grabbed the younger woman by the arm and pulled her close. "An accessory after the fact still goes to jail, kiddo." Heather looked at her with wide eyes, but Jamie slapped her on the seat and said, "I know – she’s impossible to say no to."
"She really is, Jamie," Heather insisted. "I don’t know how you ever do it."
She smiled and said, "I don’t very often. She has an odd, but effective, charm."
"Hey!" Ryan scowled. "Who you calling odd?"
"Shoe fits – wear it," Jamie tossed back. "Now what’s with the ice?" Ryan’s makeshift ice bag was a zip-lock plastic bag, taped to her knee with a strip of what looked like clear plastic wrap.
"No biggie. When I slid into second, I banged it a little. It’s not even swollen, but the trainer looooooves to make us look goofy."
"Not a long trip when you’re involved," Jamie said. "Bus or cab?"
"Bus. The way I look, I don’t think I could get a cab to stop."
Jamie took a long look at the sweaty, bedraggled looking woman and shook
her head. "You’ve got a point there, sport. Thankfully, Heather is still fresh as a daisy. I think I’ll sit with her." She grabbed the young woman’s arm and led her to the bus, sparing a teasing wink at her smirking partner.
As soon as Ryan was clean, she lay down on the bed and stretched out. "Time for a nap?"
"Yeah, I think so. Jordan’s flight comes in at seven, and Mia’s is due right around then, too. I told them we’d be in the casino at Mandalay Bay, since it’s close to the airport – and that you’d probably be playing poker."
"No probably about it," Ryan said. "You gonna nap with me?"
"I had a pretty good one earlier in the day," she reminded her. "I fell asleep sitting up watching Oprah!"
"Come snuggle for a minute, then," Ryan said, giving a hopeful look. "You can watch TV or read, once I’m out."
"Love to." Taking one of her textbooks, she lay down on the bed next to her always-cuddly partner and smiled when Ryan soon had her pinned firmly to the mattress. The larger woman was asleep in seconds, and Jamie knew that her study plans would go unrealized. She could run a sleep clinic for insomniacs, she mused before she nodded off. Ten minutes of cuddling with her could knock anyone out.
They were waiting for a cab in front of their motel when Jamie asked, "Isn’t it kinda funny how much freedom Coach Roberts gives you guys? Not many coaches would let you all run wild in Las Vegas. You don’t even have a curfew!"
"It’s a little odd, but it’s how I’d run the team if I were in charge. Seniors don’t have a curfew, but the rest of the team does. He likes to give each class a little more freedom so he can keep an eye on them until he’s sure they can handle it. The juniors have to be in by two, the sophs by one, and the freshmen by midnight."
"Huh. But, doesn’t that preclude the freshmen going out with any of the upperclassmen?"
"Yep. That’s part of his plan," Ryan said. "He wants us to play as a team, but he doesn’t think it’s mandatory that we all hang out together. He realizes that since the seniors have the ability to go to casinos and have a drink, they’ll be resentful if they have to stay home because the younger players can’t come with. Plus, if he keeps the freshmen on a short leash, they’re less likely to get into trouble by tagging along with the older women. His style is unconventional, but it’s worked for him."
"Coach Hayes should work for him for a few years after her lame ass is fired," Jamie said.
Ryan laughed, "He wouldn’t put up with her for five minutes. I’ve never met two coaches with such different styles. You’d think she’d take a look at his consistently successful record and take a clue – but that’s not gonna happen."
"Her loss," Jamie shrugged.
"Literally," Ryan said.
Jamie was playing the slots when Mia and Jordan arrived. "Hey, girlfriend!" The blonde smiled at Mia’s bubbly voice, gathered up her cup full of quarters, and went to greet her friends.
"Wow! You look fabulous, Jordan," Jamie said, staring openly at the lanky blonde.
"Free product," she said, giving Jamie a quick pirouette to show off her new clothes. "I got a suitcase full of things after that Polo ad that I did, so I brought everything with me. This is the first chance I’ve had in weeks to be out of sweats or warm-ups."
"I think I’ve only seen you dressed up at Martin and Maeve’s wedding," Jamie said, eyeing her critically. "You should get out of sweats more often."
"Can you see why Ralph Lauren wanted her?" Mia asked, letting her eyes wander up and down the long body. "The clothes were made for her."
Jamie had to admit that the items did fit Jordan perfectly. The tall woman wore a beautiful cashmere, crew-neck sweater and a pair of pleated wool slacks, both in a warm, winter white. A well-cut, navy blue blazer with the large RL crest on the pocket was draped over her shoulders, making her look more like her model-self than her athlete-self. "You’re sure not going to get carded tonight," Jamie said. "You could pass for thirty!"
"What about me?" Mia asked rather petulantly.
Jamie gave her a fond glance and said, "You and I could both pass for 20. Regrettably, we’re 21 and 22. You do look very nice, though. That suit looks great on you. You should buy one like it." Mia was wearing one of Jamie’s favorite outfits – since it was, in fact, Jamie’s. The dark emerald pants suit made of very fine velour looked marvelous on Mia, and made her look very sophisticated; but she still looked a good ten years younger than Jordan.
"I didn’t have anything that Jordy hasn’t seen before," Mia said. "You don’t mind, do you?"
"You know I don’t," Jamie said. "Besides, it looks great with your eyes. Gives them some green highlights."
"It does," Jordan sighed. "I’ve been staring at her ever since we met in the airport, and it just dawned on me that it’s because her eyes are so complex-looking tonight."
Mia squeezed her hand and said, "You can look at them all night, honey – ‘cause we’re staying up 'til dawn!"
It took a while, but they finally found the poker tables. The Mandalay Bay followed the custom of most of the Vegas casinos, and had created a separate room for the game. Blackjack, pai gow poker, Caribbean stud, three-card poker and Texas hold ‘em could be played at any one of a number of tables dispersed around the gaming floor. But, regular poker was still king, and it was treated as such by the casinos. The poker room was raised up a few steps from the casino floor, and was surrounded by a half wall. They found Ryan at a table near the back of the room, seated with 6 men and one young woman, deeply engrossed in her game. "Odd crowd," Jamie said, looking around at the players.
Mia nodded, a look of faint distaste on her face. "They look like a bunch of guys who should be pluckin’ chickens."
Jamie took another critical look and had to agree with her friend. The room contained about 20 tables, and the vast majority of them had a game going on. The average age of the players was around 65, and very few of the men had bothered to shave – that week. The players contrasted so dramatically with the younger, wealthier looking crowd that populated the rest of the casino, that she was unable to reconcile the variation.
Something about the way the room was set up made Jamie reluctant to go in and tell her partner they were there. The place was very, very quiet – also strange for a casino. Oddly, there was a no smoking sign prominently displayed; the only place Jamie had seen such a restriction. Gazing at her partner again, Jamie asked, "She looks hot, doesn’t she?"
Due to the angle of the table, they had a side view of her, and both women agreed with Jamie’s assessment. Ryan was wearing a cream-colored, heavyweight, silk blouse and her leather pants, which gleamed in the muted light of the room. Her hair was loose and draped around her shoulders, the highlights almost blue where one of the pin-spots hit her. She had a long, thin cigar in her mouth, but Jamie noticed it wasn’t lit – due to the prohibition. Rather than smoking it, she seemed to be using it as a prop of some sort. But whatever her motivation, it made her look sexy and confident – two of Jamie’s favorite attributes.
The hand was over quickly, and Ryan stood and started to put her chips in a plastic carrier. Another man stood and approached her, motioning with his head towards a small room labeled "High Stakes." Ryan’s brow furrowed and she shook her head, but the man didn’t want to take no for an answer. He gestured towards the room again, but Ryan held her ground, sticking her chin out the way she did when her mind was firmly made up. Disgusted, the man stalked away, passing by the three spectators as he did so. "Fuckin’ bitch," he grumbled to himself.
Ryan looked up as she walked away from the table, and gave her friends a beaming smile. "Wow, three of the best looking women in Las Vegas – all in one spot!" With warm hugs and kisses for Mia and Jordan, she draped her arm around Jamie and asked, "Let me take you all to dinner. The sky’s the limit." She pointedly eyed her chips, giving Jamie a wink.
"Who was the guy who was talking to you?" Jordan asked. "He was cussing you out when he left."
"Sore loser," Ryan said, looking unimpr
essed. "I cleaned him out, and he wanted to play for $100 a hand in the high stakes room. I never bet that much," she said, shaking her head. "You can lose your shirt in 10 minutes. Besides, if my luck held, he’d probably be betting the mortgage on his house. I hate to play with compulsive gamblers, and he had all the signs."
"How much did you win?" the blonde gaped, seeing chips of many different colors in the tray.
"Enough." Her self-satisfied smile was all Jamie was going to get out of her, and she let Ryan cash out in private – since she obviously didn’t want to share the extent of her success.
They decided on drinks at The Red Square, an opulent vodka bar and Russian restaurant at the hotel. The chic, trendy bar was filled with the beautiful people of Las Vegas, and to Ryan’s surprise, her foursome fit right in. Her burgeoning wealth and social status didn’t hit her very often, but in a setting like this, she was unable to exert her powers of denial. Face it, O’Flaherty, Jamie’s always going to be one of the beautiful people, and since you’re her spouse, you’re at least mildly attractive. She laughed softly, and Jamie caught her eye, giving her a raised eyebrow.
Leaning over, Ryan said, "I was having one of my ‘I can’t believe this is my life’ moments. It’ll pass."
Jamie leaned right back into her, saying, "I can’t believe that you’re my lover, and I hope that’s a feeling that never passes."
"Let’s skip dinner, and go make out," the brunette whispered.
"Oh, no! You’re gonna need all of your stamina tonight. I need you well fed."
"Then let’s get some food, ‘cause I’m all about goin’ home early."
Jamie had been busy during Ryan’s poker game, making reservations at a lovely restaurant in the hotel. Aureole was known for both fantastic food and a very unique wine cellar. The cellar was actually a 4-story glass tower, located right in the middle of the room, and Ryan was spellbound by the display. "If I had to move to Las Vegas, that’s the job I’d have," she said, her voice filled with longing.
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