The 7th Tarot Card

by Valerie Clay

  Julie groaned, “Not that nice, now he’s headed our way. I’ll get rid of him.”

  He reached our table, gave us a shy smile, and said, “Good afternoon ladies, my name is Anthony, and I was wondering if I could join you.”

  “I’m Julie and this is Victoria. Thanks for the drinks, but you really shouldn’t have spent your money. We’re waiting for a friend who should be arriving any minute now.” She turned her attention back to her plate and picked up her fork, not so subtly signaling the end of the conversation.

  “Oh, I understand,” he replied, crestfallen. “I don’t want to intrude. I’m new to Vegas. I work in the accounting department here at the Bellagio and haven’t made many friends yet. It gets a little lonely sometimes. Don’t worry about the drinks—one of the perks of my job—I can comp things for guests. I’ll take care of your meals too. Have a nice time in Vegas.” He gave us a sad, puppy dog smile and turned to leave.

  “Wait a minute; you can sit with us until our friend arrives,” I offered. Julie kicked me under the table, but I ignored her. His face brightened and he sat down between us. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, his cell phone buzzed. He glanced at the phone and said, “Sorry, ladies, I need to take this.” Then he got up and moved a few yards away from the table.

  “Why did you do that?” Julie asked when he was out of hearing range.

  “Come on, Julie, he’s harmless and it was nice of him to pay for our dinner. As soon as Amanda arrives he’ll leave.”

  “Well, he’d better. We have to figure out what in the heck we’re going to do.”

  ”I apologize for that—a small accounting emergency,” Anthony explained as he returned and sat down. “Where are you ladies from?”

  “We just flew in from Seattle for the day. Going back tomorrow,” Julie said. Her words were clipped, curt.

  “Wow, that’s a quick trip. Are you here on business or pleasure?”

  “A little of both,” I replied, smiling. “How about you?”

  Anthony explained that he was from New Jersey originally, but he felt like his life was in a rut. He decided to move to Las Vegas to spice things up. I can certainly identify with that. Sometimes you have to shake things up to really feel alive. Playing it safe all the time may feel secure, but in the long run, it limits your life experiences. How can you grow if you never venture far from the nest? I was beginning to like this gentle guy.

  “I don’t mean to be nosey, but are you staying here at The Bellagio?” Anthony asked. His glasses slipped down his nose and he pushed them back into place with his index finger.

  “We haven’t decided yet,” Julie said. “We’ll figure that out after our friend arrives.”

  “The reason I ask,” he continued, “is because I may be able to comp a room for you, but I would have to check.”

  “Really? That would be fabulous!” I gushed. “Thank you, Anthony. Could you possibly get us a room on the twenty-third floor?” I smiled sweetly at him. Julie gave me a subtle, approving nod.

  “Why do you want to stay on the twenty-third floor?” he queried.

  “We think a friend of ours may be staying on that floor, in room 2365. Do you think you could get us a room near that one?”

  “Also,” Julie added, “would you have any way of checking to see if he’s in that room?”

  “I can try. What’s your friend’s name?”

  “The room could be under his name, Mark Nielson, or his friend’s name, Crystal. We don’t know her last name,” I replied. I felt hopeful for the first time since we bobbled the ball at the first-and-ten in the airport.

  Anthony furrowed his brows and stood up. “I’ll ask, but if you ladies think your friend is staying there, why don’t you just call him?”

  I looked at Julie for help.

  “It’s sort of a surprise,” she said. “Kind of a surprise party.”

  He nodded. “Okay, well that sounds like fun. I’ll go check right now. Will you both be here until I return?”

  We assured Anthony that we would sit tight until he got back. I took a sip of my second Cosmo and Julie finished off her first Bloody Mary. Lady Luck was in the house. We may have just salvaged our mission after all.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.” —Colette, French novelist

  *******

  Julie pushed up the sleeve of her jacket, studied her camo watch, then looked up and frowned. “Amanda should have been here by now.” As if on cue, the rousing refrains of “The Stripper” wailed from deep inside my purse.

  “Aha, here’s our partner-in-crime now,” I said as I unearthed my phone and flipped it open. “Mmmmyellllooow.”

  “Vic, is that you? How many drinks have you had? Never mind. Where are you?” I told her where to find us and hung up.

  I smiled at Julie. “Amanda’s taxi just pulled up to the entrance. She’ll be here in a bit.”

  A few moments later, out of breath and twitchy, Amanda, came dashing up to our table. I did a double-take. Amanda wore a black trench coat, Jackie O sunglasses, and on her feet, cheap white foam rubber flip-flops. Her auburn hair, normally a sleek, sophisticated bob, bristled out from her head as if a science experiment had gone horribly wrong.

  Julie and I looked at her in stunned silence.

  “What a crazy day,” Amanda said as she put Carl’s black patent leather tote on the floor and scooped her hands through her hair. She took off her coat and tossed it over the back of a chair, revealing a starched white karate uniform. Wrapped securely around her waist was a bright blue and fuchsia floral belt.

  “My taxi driver was smoking,” Amanda explained when she noticed us staring at her hair, “so I asked him, as nice as could be, to please extinguish his cigarette. I may have also mentioned that it was a dirty habit and if he didn’t care about himself, he should at least have some consideration for his passengers. For some reason he seemed annoyed by that and refused to put out his cigarette, but offered to crack the windows to give me some air. Then he gave me a creepy smile, rolled down all the windows, cranked the air conditioning up full blast, and stepped on the gas. It felt like I was in one of those wind tunnels NASA uses to test rockets.”

  Frowning, Julie sized her up and said, “I didn’t know they made karate belts in patterns.”

  “I had this one custom made for me. Don’t you just love it? My dojo is very progressive and they encourage us to express our own unique individuality. I feel it makes the practice of karate much more gracious and civilized. Don’t you?”

  “Hmmm . . .” Julie replied, chewing on a stalk of celery from her Bloody Mary.

  Carl barked out a single, irritated yelp—a reminder he was still incarcerated—so Amanda unzipped his bag and out he scampered. His little black and tan tail wagged furiously as he looked around, then shook himself off and jumped up onto her lap.

  “Why’s he wearing a Count Dracula cape?” I asked.

  “It’s been in my car since Halloween, and his bomber jacket seemed too casual for travel. I thought a red cape might be a more suitable look for Vegas.”

  “Good choice,” I commented. “I saw three vampires go by about an hour ago.”

  Ignoring me, Amanda continued, “Girls, I have to tell you about the most bizarre thing that happened to me on the way to the airport today. I parked my car as usual at the Park-and-Ride and boarded the bus to the airport. After an interminable wait, no other passengers arrived, so the driver finally closed the doors and took off with me, the lone passenger, on board. During the ride I started foraging around in my purse, checking for my ID and getting my tip ready, when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the light had gotten significantly dimmer. When I looked up, I saw that we were driving down a tree-lined road in the middle of a graveyard!” She thrust out her hands, palms up.

  “I didn’t know there was a graveyard near the airport,” I said.

  “I didn’t either, but apparently there is, because I was in it. I tel
l you, it gave me quite a fright. For a brief moment, I thought the driver might be a deranged serial killer, and I was on the death bus to hell. I thought he would kill me, then leave my body in a shallow grave with my car keys on my head or something. My life and all my ex-boyfriends passed before my eyes. It was terrifying.”

  “Well, what happened?” Julie asked between swills of her Bloody Mary.

  Amanda eyed Julie’s fast-dwindling cocktail, then continued. “The driver must have seen the concern in my eyes because he said, and I quote, ‘I apologize, ma’am. I took a wrong turn. It’ll just be a moment to get back on the main road.’ Do you believe that? He called me ma’am, like I’m some kind of middle-aged woman.” We kept our mouths shut. Technically, forty is not middle-aged if you live to be one-hundred.

  I turned to Julie. “I hate to be a downer, but this could be another sign. First I saw a dead duck, then Laini drew the seventh Tarot card three times, and now Amanda takes a detour through a graveyard. Am I crazy, or does anyone else see a pattern here?” I searched their faces for some scrap of acknowledgement but all I got were blank expressions. Leaning in, I continued pleading my case. “All my instincts are telling me—no, screaming at me—to run to the airport, and Eastern philosophy teaches us to listen to our instincts, our inner voice. You of all people should know that, Julie.”

  “Yeah, well we’re in Vegas, grasshopper, so chillax.” She chuckled at her own joke, then took a long slug on her straw, emptying her glass.

  “I think you’re being a bit superstitious, Vic,” Amanda said as she motioned to the waitress. “I don’t believe in so-called signs. What I’d like most in the world right now is a martini. Now, what’s the plan?”

  “We were just about to devise a line of attack when Anthony joined us,” I answered, still feeling edgy about the string of events. Was it my imagination, or were we really in jeopardy? I didn’t want them to think I was a nut. Possibly the whole stalker thing had distorted my judgment and I was overreacting.

  “Who’s Anthony?” Amanda asked.

  “He’s a pain in the ass accountant, who’s attached himself to us like a barnacle,” Julie replied.

  “No he isn’t, Julie!” I said. “He’s a very nice guy, who’s a little lonely and has been kind enough to comp our food and drinks. Anyway, he might be able to help us.”

  “Does he have over-gelled hair and hideous glasses?” Amanda asked as she put Carl down and handed him a tiny freeze-dried steak.

  “Yes,” we answered in unison.

  “Well, he’s walking this way.”

  Anthony reached our table and I made introductions. “Anthony, may I present Amanda Robbins and her spiritual advisor, Carl.”

  “Very nice to meet you, Amanda,” he said as he extended his hand. “You Seattle ladies sure have a refreshing sense of style.”

  Amanda stiffened and replied in a frosty tone, “I was in the midst of a karate class when my friends called me. There was no time to change. I had to depart immediately for the airport.”

  He cleared his throat. “Where’s Carl?”

  “Under the table,” she replied briskly.

  Raising an eyebrow, Anthony lifted up the tablecloth and cautiously peered underneath. “Oh, a puppy—wearing a red velvet cloak. How charming. Hello, Carl.”

  Carl growled.

  “Why, Carl, that’s not polite!” Amanda scolded. “I’m so sorry about that. He’s been cooped up in his doggie carrier for a long time today and I guess he’s feeling a little grouchy.” She picked him up and put him on her lap. “Now apologize to Anthony,” Amanda admonished him. Carl whimpered, sat up on his hind legs and extended a paw.

  “Aw, isn’t that cute,” Anthony said as he leaned across the table and shook Carl’s paw. Carl growled for a second time.

  “Carl! What is wrong with you?” Amanda scolded again. But Carl is a free thinker and he continued to growl, then bared his sharp little teeth. Amanda put him back down on the floor. “If you don’t behave you won’t get any caviar treats tonight.” She looked up at Anthony apologetically. “I’m so sorry about that. Sometimes he can be somewhat territorial, especially with men, and—”

  Destiny’s arrival interrupted her explanation, prompting Amanda to pull a pair of green designer glasses from her bag. After quickly skimming the menu she ordered a Grey Goose martini and a blackened salmon salad.

  “Well, I have some good news and some bad news, ladies,” Anthony began as he pushed his ill-fitting glasses back up his nose. “Which do you want first?”

  “How about the good news,” Julie suggested, vacuuming through the ice in her glass with her straw, determinedly slurping up the last drops of her second Bloody Mary.

  He gave us a coy grin. “I was able to get a room for you tonight at no charge.”

  “That’s fantastic! Is it on the twenty-third floor?” I asked.

  “Sorry, that’s the bad news. No vacancies on that floor. The sixteenth floor was the best I could do.”

  “No harm, no foul,” said Julie. “You don’t ask, you don’t dance. We appreciate the room. By the by, is our friend in 2365?”

  “Sorry,” the accountant replied, shaking his head. “They told me they were not allowed to give out that information.”

  “That’s okay, we were just wondering,” I said. “Thanks for trying.” Julie and I smiled at him in appreciation. Amanda, however, wasn’t paying any attention at all. She was just sitting there, fiddling with her cell phone.

  “What are you doing?” I asked her.

  “I’m trying to send a text message to Leland to let him know I’m in Las Vegas.” F. Leland Lustigman, IV is Amanda’s current beau, a wealthy and, if you want my opinion, stodgy old coot of an investment banker in Seattle. He irons his socks if you know what I mean. I refer to him as Fleland when Amanda’s not around.

  “Why don’t you just call him?” Julie asked, sliding two black olives from her empty Bloody Mary onto the tips of her fingers.

  “Trust me, it’s easier this way. He’s not going to be happy with me running off to Vegas with you guys.”

  “Why not?” Julie leaned forward and pointed an olive in Amanda’s face. “You’re a grown woman. You don’t need his permission.” She waved the olive back and forth. “And what’s wrong with us?” The olive started to slip off her extended finger, so Julie pushed it back on.

  “Frankly, he thinks you’re both a bad influence on me.”

  “A bad influence!” I choked on my Cosmo. “Why in the world would he think that?”

  “Remember the time we got kicked out of Neiman Marcus?” Amanda responded calmly.

  “Well, that was a minor misunderstanding, and that was only one little incident,” I replied.

  “What about the time we got kicked out of Eddie Bauer?”

  “That wasn’t my fault. And if you didn’t want me climbing into that sleigh bed in their Christmas display window, you shouldn’t have dared me,” I countered.

  Amanda continued to type her text message and asked, “Do you recall the time the police came to Laini’s house during our Summer Solstice ceremony and threatened to take us into custody for disturbing the peace?”

  “That was one crotchety, old neighbor,” Julie responded frowning, “and Laini promised never to bang her gong after ten P.M. again.”

  Anthony was staring at us with his mouth open. I felt my forehead start to perspire.

  “And then there was the time,” Amanda continued without looking up, “when we got our car impounded. By the way,” she said, glancing up at us briefly, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but now, instead of sorority sisters, he refers to us as the Brain Sisters.”

  Julie and I exchanged irritated glances.

  “Anyway,” Amanda said, “because of that impounding episode, I ended up missing Leland’s speech to the King County Bankers Association.”

  “You dodged a bullet there, my friend,” Julie said. “You should thank us for that one.” Julie and I cracked up and did a spirit
ed high-five.

  Regrettably, both olives flew off her fingers and hurtled across the table towards Anthony. He tried to duck, but he wasn’t fast enough. One hit his forehead with a sickening splat. We watched in dismay as it stuck for a millisecond, then peeled loose and bounced off his glasses. The other nailed him in the chin, then rolled down his silver satin tie and plopped onto the polished granite floor. With impeccable timing, Carl flew out from under the table, snatched up both olives, and swiftly retreated with his spoils.

  Amanda gave us the stink eye as Anthony pulled off his glasses and wiped his forehead with a cocktail napkin. Unfortunately, the grease trail down the middle of his tie looked like it was there for good. Standing, he waved rather desperately to Destiny. She nodded and hurried over to our table. “I’d like another drink, and please bring another round for my friends too.” He dunked a napkin into his water glass and carefully sponged his tie, causing the stain to leech out in an interestingly abstract, Jackson Pollock sort of way. We pretended not to notice.

  As we settled down, Anthony regaled us with stories about growing up in New Jersey, summers in Atlantic City, and his teenage adventures on the boardwalk. He kept the drinks coming and was surprisingly funny for an accountant. Charming actually. The alcohol flowed, and we were all having a grand old time. Colonel Julie, feeling no pain, was in the midst of discussing the merits of Karate vs. Taekwondo when she abruptly shot to her feet, pointed, and shouted, “Woohoo–cowboys!”

  I stood up and looked in the direction she pointed and, sure enough, there was a group of at least twenty good-looking men in cowboy hats milling around outside the lounge. One of the guys noticed us looking at them, gave us a big grin, and tipped his hat.

  “Vic, I double-dog dare you to go over there and talk to those guys,” Julie said waving back at the cowboy.

  “I’ll see your dare, Colonel, and I’ll raise you. I’ll go over there and talk to them, if you go over and get a kiss.”