The Billionaire's Bluff

by Nella Tyler

  Disappointment. Heartache. Yet, this was even worse. I couldn't believe what I had heard. And there he sat, looking up at me, a perfectly innocent expression on his face, smiling in expectation of my reply. So, he thought that if I helped him at the casino, I could share his money and even make some of my own? What the hell made him think I wanted to share his money?

  "Well, say something?"

  I shook my head, still not believing what I was hearing. Instead of speaking, I stood up, still reeling with a sense of shock. I was appalled! "How can you ask me to do something like that?" I demanded, trying to keep the pain, the disappointment, and the hurt out of my voice. He frowned, confused.

  "You're offended."

  It wasn't a question – it was a statement. I nodded. "You can bet the hell I am!" I replied, my voice shaking. "You're asking me to cheat? Is that it?"

  He shook his head and offered a slight laugh. "No, no, no, I'm not asking you to cheat. I'm asking you to help me cheat on the game."

  "What the hell is the difference? I can’t believe this.” I shook my head. "I meant it when I said I wanted to keep our professional and personal lives separate, and you've been doing that. It's been nice. I haven't felt any pressure at work at all, despite all the eyes I feel on me all the time." I paused a moment, taking a step toward the edge of the coffee table, away from the champagne, the hors d'oeuvres, everything set out just perfectly. I swept my arm toward it. "Is that what this is all about? Buttering me up?"

  “Maggie, just listen to me for a minute," he said. He also stood, stepping closer.

  When I held up my hand, I saw that it was trembling. "I can't believe you asked me to do this, Ben." Even to my own ears my voice sounded plaintive.

  "It's not like you're not going to benefit from the arrangement," he explained. "Actually, there's a lot that you can do."

  “So, the thought of cheating doesn't even bother you in the least?" I asked. I said the words that had bothered me for quite a while. "You are counting cards, aren’t you?"

  He nodded with a smile, as if proud. "I have been," he freely admitted. "And, I'm getting quite good at it, too, but I think that the pit bosses are catching on. That's why I’ve been losing more frequently lately."

  "I was suspicious you were counting cards and cheating, Ben, but I didn't want to believe it. But I can guarantee you, if I noticed it, and the pit bosses have probably noticed it, you can bet the cameras in the sky and management knows it, too. You can get into a lot of trouble."

  "But that's just it, Maggie, I haven't. I have learned how to balance things out, so to speak. Just when they start to get suspicious of me, I start losing again." He shrugged. “Besides, there's no reason and no argument why we can’t work together. I promise you won't get caught."

  "Getting caught is the least of my concerns, Ben," I said. “Because I have no intention of helping you cheat.” I stood frozen near the end of the coffee table, staring around at the opulent room, the hors d'oeuvres and champagne and the glasses on the coffee table, and then at Ben. He was so handsome, so charming, and so desirable. But he was a cheater! He was counting cards, not just to challenge himself in private, but to cheat the casino – the casino where I worked! Even worse, he was asking me to cheat along with him! Was he crazy?

  "Ben, what kind of a person do you think I am, that I would agree to cheat or to helping someone cheat?" It was as if he didn't understand the question. “I work there, Ben! I work there! In all the years I’ve worked there, I’ve never been tempted, and no one, not a soul, has ever asked me to cheat! What… Why would you think-”

  "But, Maggie, you can make some good money,” he replied, unfazed. “You can't be making that much at the casino. I know the dealers don't make much, just barely over minimum wage, plus tips, and I know that a lot of people are stingy with tips, even when they win big.”

  I stared at him with dumbfounded amazement. It was incredible that he was saying such a thing – as if what I made left me more vulnerable to his request – maybe it would for some dealers, but not me. Not ever. He continued, as if his comments were more than reasonable.

  “The casino takes most of the money right off the top of all the winnings. Don't you think that the casino owes you more than you've gotten from them? More than you owe them in loyalty?" He shook his head. "They're probably bringing in billions of dollars a year. They don’t care about you, Maggie. Why should you care about them? What's a few thousand here and there?"

  I shook my head. He couldn't possibly be this dense. "Ben," I said, speaking as slowly as I could, and enunciating each word as I said it. "You are asking me to cheat."

  "Yes," he said, as if he was answering a question about the color of the sky.

  I stared at him. "And you don't find anything wrong about that? Nothing wrong about asking me that kind of a question? Requesting that I do such a thing?"

  He shrugged, as though confused by my question. "No, why should I?"

  "Because it isn't right!" I exclaimed, extremely frustrated. "Do you have no concept of right and wrong? Do you think money gives you the right to do anything you want?” I didn’t wait for him to respond. “Do you always go around doing whatever you want without even thinking about the consequences or repercussions because you have money to fall back on? Do you know what would happen if you got caught cheating or counting cards at the casino?" My voice rose in equal time to my increasing sense of alarm and dismay.

  "Sure," he shrugged. "I'd probably be banned from the casino. No big deal. I’ll find another one."

  "Probably not in Atlantic City," I answered back. “And what about me, Ben? What the hell do you think would happen to me if I lost my job there?”

  “I’d take care of you, Maggie-”

  “I don’t want you to take care of me! I don’t want to rely on any man to take care of me!” I exclaimed, my voice choked with pain and fury.

  “I didn’t mean it that way, Maggie-”

  “You really don’t care if you get into trouble, do you? You find it all rather exciting, don’t you?” I felt horrified. He was so casual about it all, so lackadaisical. I didn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand it.

  Again, he shrugged as if it didn't matter. "There are plenty of casinos all over the country – the world for that matter."

  I felt sick to my stomach. A headache started to pound behind my eyes. He wanted to use me. He wanted to make me feel as if the casino owed me something. No, I didn't make a lot of money, sometimes barely enough to cover my expenses, but it was a good honest living. I wasn't a cheater. I held my breath and counted to ten before I spoke again. Slowly and succinctly.

  "After I got divorced, Ben, I had absolutely nothing to fall back on. Nothing. That's-"

  "Don't you see, Maggie? If you help me, and we do this together, you'll never have to worry about that again. You'll be able to find a nicer apartment, have nicer things-"

  "Stop it! Just stop it!" I shook my head, tried to blink back the warmth of tears I felt forming behind my eyelids. "I thought you understood me, Ben… I thought you got me."

  He stared up at me in stunned dismay. "Maggie, I'm not sure-"

  "I quit school when I got married, Ben, and so I didn't have any skills or education to fall back on, nothing that I could use in practical experience to get a decent paying job. You know who was willing to give me a chance, to train me, to offer me a steady paycheck?" He said nothing. "The casino. The casino! They may not pay the best in the world, but at least it's paycheck, Ben.” I paused to catch my breath. To calm my rising temper.

  “You may not know what it's like to have to try and earn a paycheck week after week, but I'll tell you something. The casino has been good to me. They give me sick days when I need them, they give me extra shifts when I ask, and pretty soon, after I put in another six months, I’ll have my pick of shifts. Then, I’m going onto days so I can start going to school at night. That's what the casino has done for me."

  He shook his head. "It's not enough, Maggie. D
o you want to work there for the rest of your life, living paycheck to paycheck?"

  I nearly choked on my anger. "Of course I don't, Ben! I want a good job, a job that offers me security now and in the future. I want a job that will enable me to afford a house someday. Maybe teaching. Maybe as a nurse. I don't know yet. Right now, all I'm trying to do is survive!"

  "But, Maggie, I can help!"

  "I'm not a cheater, Ben, don’t you get it? If I make money, it's going to be the honest way. You're trying to use me to help you cheat. Is that what this is all about?" I swept my arm over the room, the hors d'oeuvres, and the champagne, then at him. "Is that what you've been doing all along – pretending that you like me, trying to buy my favor with all that stuff you bought for the apartment? Taking me out? Seducing me?" He lifted a hand to interrupt me, but I stopped him. "No, Ben, I don't want to hear it. Because right now, all I feel is used. You just want to use me!"

  "Maggie-"

  "No, Ben, I don't want to hear another word." I began to walk toward the door. "I'm leaving. And so you have your answer. No. No, I'm not going to help you cheat. God, don't you realize how much trouble you could get me into? You may be able to buy your way out of just about anything, but I don't have that luxury."

  I turned my back and made my way out of the room. He followed me into the hallway as I headed for the front door.

  "Maggie, I'm sorry… I didn’t mean to… Let me get you home."

  I turned and glared at him. I was so furious I was sure my face was red as a beat. "You're sorry? I can't believe you, Ben. Sometimes you can be so arrogant, so manipulative…as if money has corrupted you, made you think that you could do anything you please and get away with it, which you probably can, but that isn't what I'm all about."

  I continued to head toward the front door. "And I don't need anything from you. Not your charity, not your handouts, and certainly not a ride. I don't want anything from you, Ben. It's become baldly apparent to me that the one thing I do want from you it's impossible for you to give."

  He followed me. "What do you mean, Maggie? I can give you anything your heart desires!"

  "I don't think you can even grasp what I'm talking about, Ben." I opened the front door. "I'm leaving. Don't follow me." With that, I stepped outside and slammed the door behind me. My heart pounding, I made my way down his driveway, along the same route that I had taken once before when I caught the bus into town.

  On the way down his street, my rage turned into pain and I began to weep softly, constantly brushing tears from my eyes. I couldn't believe it. So that's what all this was about? The gifts, the dates, the expensive food, the Jacuzzi, all of it… Well, he had succeeded, to a degree. He'd gotten me to feel something for him, and here I was, once again nursing heartache and pain, the exact situation that I had until now, successfully managed to keep away from. Damn him! Damn his good looks. Damn his charisma! And most of all, damn his stinking and manipulative arrogance!

  To think that I would even consider cheating for him or with him! What the hell? He had asked it as simply as he would ask for one of the hors d'oeuvres prepared on the platter in front of his couch. How long had he been cheating? Had my suspicions been correct from the beginning? I didn't like to think so.

  I arrived at the bus stop and only had to wait for a few minutes before it arrived. I swiped my bus card that I kept for emergencies – thank goodness – and climbed on, finding a seat way in the back in the shadows where nobody could see me. For the duration of the bus ride, I let the tears fall down my cheeks unabated. Oh my God, this was the last thing that I had expected when he had brought me into that ostentatious room.

  During the bus ride, I not only felt the ultimate in foolishness and overwhelmed by a sense of betrayal, but I grew increasingly furious that he had the nerve to ask me to do such a thing. How dare he? What a fool he must think I was, such as easy mark just because I barely made over minimum wage? Of course, he would flirt and give gifts to a blackjack dealer, assess their reaction, see if they could potentially use them to help him cheat. Is that all he had seen in me? A willing accomplice? Was that all I was to him?

  When we had made love – no, when we had had sex, I thought that he had really cared for me. Now, I second-guessed everything. The fact that I had allowed myself to gain pleasure, to think that I had even felt a niggling that something new and exciting was starting between us made me feel like such a fool. I had been played. Ben had played me as well as he played the cards. And I had fallen for it: hook, line, and sinker as my mom used to say.

  By the time I got home, I felt mentally exhausted. All I wanted to do was sleep, but my mind was spinning. After staring at the ceiling for two hours, and as it was approaching two o'clock in the morning, I finally caved and got up and went into the bathroom. Savannah had given me a couple of Xanax when she had her prescription filled a couple of months ago, and although I didn't typically succumb to the urge, I took one. I needed to get rid of some of this horrible anxiety I felt, this pain. I needed to sleep.

  I paced around the apartment for about ten minutes or so until I began to feel the effects of the Xanax. It was definitely taking the edge off, and I did feel a little bit more relaxed. I finally went back to the bedroom and climbed between my sheets, trying to push any and all thoughts of Ben and what he had asked me this evening out of my mind. Finally, I felt myself falling into a restless sleep.

  *

  I woke up the following morning, my eyes swollen from crying. To my dismay, I had also cried in my sleep, evidenced by the stain of tears I saw on my cheeks when I looked in the mirror when I got up. My heart felt heavy, but I would be damned if I would continue to allow a man – any man – affect me in such a way. I thought I had learned my lessons with my ex, but apparently, I still had homework to do in that department.

  I couldn't believe what Ben had asked me to do, and for a second, I felt like laughing. It was so ludicrous! What had I ever done one around Ben to indicate that I would be open to cheating or helping anyone cheat? What indication had I ever given him that I was even susceptible to the suggestion? That was what was so amazing to me. Did he think everyone could be bought so easily? Persuaded so easily?

  I wished I could talk to Savannah, but I didn't feel ready to do so just yet. This morning, I was still tired, emotionally wrung out, but more aggravated than anything. Of course, I didn't even consider his offer, not even this morning in the bright light of day! I could never do anything so immoral. Oh, don’t get me wrong; I had done some things I wasn’t proud of in life, but that? No. Nothing even close. I couldn’t help but replay everything that had happened yesterday and the day before. And the day before that.

  To say I was hurt and angry beyond belief was an understatement. Still in my pajamas, I wandered through my apartment, shaking my head. At least, I had my old stuff back. I was so glad I hadn't kept any of it, despite Savannah’s urgings for me to do so. Oh my goodness, how horrible would that have been? I had wondered at the time why anyone would be so lavish with gifts, and now I knew why.

  After I had divorced my husband, I had sworn that I would never feel obligated to another man in my life. And while I was depressed, discouraged, and disgusted, I was glad I had stood my ground with Ben. He had insisted I could share his money, and earn more on my own. No doubt that could be nice, but that was not me. To me, it would have been dirty money, and dirty money was not worth having in my book. Some people might have succumbed to the temptation, but I would rather scramble and save every penny, watch my spending, and live paycheck to paycheck than do something like that.

  Once again, I realized Ben had no concept of what it was like to earn a living. Was that his fault? Could I blame him for that? Well, maybe he did know how to make a living, but how was I supposed to know? I didn't know anything about his history, but I didn't consider playing cards, whether it was Poker, Blackjack, Baccarat, or anything else to be hard work – especially, if you cheated at it.

  That was something that I also need
ed to consider. Now that I knew without a doubt Ben was cheating at Blackjack, should I report him? I should. As far as I was concerned, Ben was just another guy who tried to take advantage of me. Thank goodness I hadn't succumbed to his bribe.

  At the same time, I knew he had goodness in him. I just couldn't understand why someone who had millions if not billions of dollars felt the need to cheat at gambling. He must have a gambling addiction. It must be the thrill of the game for him, the thrill of the challenge of cheating, the thrill of getting away without something and not being caught. After all, he had everything he really wanted in life, didn’t he? So, doing something bad was probably the only thing that provided him with any sense of excitement or challenge.

  Still, I wanted nothing to do with it, and if Ben was truly a guy who thought I could be bought so easily just because I live paycheck to paycheck, well, then he didn't deserve me. While I felt good about making that kind of a decision, I also felt incredibly sad our relationship had ended this way. I really liked Ben – more than liked.

  Even when I had an inkling he might be cheating, I had been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I was still quite amazed at the arrogance of someone outright asking me to help him cheat. Did money do that to people? Did that kind of money corrupt someone to that degree that they didn't think anything of pulling others along with them to do bad, illegal things?

  I didn't get the impression that Ben was evil. Far from it. In fact, I didn't think he had an evil bone in his body. Last night, when I had walked out, he had made no move to argue with me, threaten me, or put his hands on me. Yes, that was a relief, but at the same time, it didn't make him a good guy, did it?

  I paced into the kitchen and prepared a pot of coffee. I didn't have to go into work until this evening, so I had a long day ahead of me. I didn't feel like going out and doing anything, but I did need to get a handle on my emotions. That was the hard part. Because despite everything, despite the fact that Ben was cheating or counting cards and had the audacity to ask me to help him cheat, which should have nipped any feelings whatsoever I had of him in the bud, I didn’t feel that way.