Police Officer's Princess

by Flora Ferrari

  CHAPTER 12

  Violet

  “Always split aces and eights. Blackjack 101 right there,” the frat boy at my table says. I’m getting to the point where I can identify the various gambling types. Frat boy looking to get rich quick with some slightly above average math skills is definitely one of them.

  The whale, as they’re called in Vegas because landing one of these high rollers is as about as difficult as hauling in Moby Dick, is another type.

  And my whale is back at my table too. And while frat boy is probably playing with his dad’s money, or his college tuition, the whale’s playing with his own.

  “Hit me,” frat boy says.

  “You read my mind,” I say.

  “That’s cause I know how this game works. I’ve got the knowledge.”

  I want to correct him and let him know I’m not talking about the game, but decide to make the better decision.

  “Twenty-one!” frat boy yells.

  The whale slides his cards forward and gets up from his chair. He’s lost five hands in a row. There goes my tip money for the day and frat boy yelling out his winning hand, which likely matches his current age, isn’t helping any.

  I watch the whale swim back to the sea of pleather rimmed felt blackjack tables. I’m trying to see if he’s headed for the exit or for the chips window. If he gets more chips maybe he’ll come back. If he heads for the exit he’s likely gone for the day.

  I lose sight of him in the maze of dim lights and cocktail waitresses zigging and zagging every which way.

  For a second I swear I see Chance. “Fat chance,” I say under my breath. I start to laugh at the irony, not only of his name but the chance that he may have put on weight after all these years. Despite the fact that he’s getting older it’s a sure bet that he hasn’t. There’s just no way. The guy is in shape 24/7/365. If Caesar’s Palace needed a male body to use a reference for one of their sculptures Chance would definitely fit the bill.

  The man turns and I can see his profile a bit better.

  That can’t be him. My fantasies have gotten the best of me. This isn’t good.

  “Are you going to deal another hand or just stare into outer space?”

  I look down at Mister Abercrombie and Fitch and see my boss in the distance looking at me with raised eyebrows and palms.

  “Of course,” I say. I deal the cards to the players. The first couple players are quick choosing to stay with their initial two cards. I have to stay focused. The third player needs a minute to decide. I quickly sneak a peek back at the mystery man.

  “It’s him,” I say quietly under my breath.

  “You don’t have to remind me lady,” the hesitant player says. I look down and see he’s referring to the king of hearts, which is face up on the table. It’s likely giving him second thoughts about his bet.

  I feel my heart rate pick up.

  The third player motions he’ll stay.

  After everyone’s turn to hit or stay is complete I turn over my down card.

  An ace.

  “Of course,” the third player says. “I was hoping for an ace in the hole but that’s exactly what you got.”

  “Ace in the hole,” I mumble. “That’s exactly what I need.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Chance

  I scan the casino looking for Violet. The playing floor is massive and I’m late for my date, if that’s what you want to call it, with Candy.

  First Cinnamon and now Candy. If I didn’t know any better I would swear my dad’s playing a Christmas joke on me.

  I try to walk through the area calmly, but I’m pressed for time and half of the sections are roped off for private games. This is not easy.

  What I really need is her phone number. I should have asked Vic for it yesterday, but I already felt like I was pressing enough. Casually swinging by and saying hi is one thing. Calling her and setting up a meet is entirely another.

  I look to the far end of the roulette tables. Nothing.

  I keep scanning past the keno board. Nothing.

  I’m almost out of time when my line of sight tracks across the blackjack tables. It’s so difficult to pick anyone out with the uniforms they’ve got on. They look like the Vegas equivalent of futuristic office drones.

  My eyes catch on something and I scan back. It’s not Violet, but I do recognize that hair. I’d recognize it anywhere. It’s the same hair of the girl from the police station!

  It’s definitely her. She works at a casino and she got arrested taking pics on The Strip? That seems like an odd combination.

  I move a couple feet to my left to get a better look at her. There’s one of those velvet ropes preventing me from going any farther. I can only see her from the back, but what I can see is incredible.

  That long beautiful hair of hers. The way she holds back her delicate shoulders even though she must be tired from standing and leaning forward all day long.

  And speaking of leaning, she leans forward to deal a card and her ass comes back just enough to really reveal the shape.

  I make a fist and bring it up to my mouth, biting the tips of my knuckles which are suddenly turning white from my intense grip.

  Unreal. What a body. If my dad was going to set me up with girls who have edible names why couldn’t he have picked Miss Apple Bottom over there? And that’s not just an apple bottom. That’s a caramel apple that you can only get once a year when the fair’s in town. Those big ol’ apples they dip in that candy caramel and then give ‘em a spin as your eyes light up just waiting to bite into it.

  I slide left a little more causing the velvet rope to stretch tight.

  “Sir, as I said the first time, these are private tables. If you’d like to play you need to buy some chips and enter through the proper channels.”

  The first time?

  I look at the guy and the guy looks at me like I’m stupid. Did I not even hear the first warning? Did that woman freeze me in my tracks so hard I couldn’t even hear this guy?

  “Right,” I say. I take a step back to my right and make my way across the casino floor. The guy didn’t really need to ask me to leave. I had to get out of there anyways because I was going from zero to boner in less than six seconds.

  I raise my line of sight looking for the bathrooms sign. A few steps later and I see one. I pick up my pace and quickly enter and head to the back stall.

  I lock the door with one hand as I unbutton my pants with the other.

  I haven’t been this hard in a long, long time. Damn I can’t even remember when. My erection was pushing so hard against my boxer briefs and my jeans that I was about to pass out. And my jeans aren’t exactly tight either.

  What has gotten into me?

  I take some deep breaths and try and calm down. Luckily my dick starts to lose its cast iron hardness and a minute or two later I’m back to being me.

  But I’m clearly not me.

  I can’t believe that girl had such an effect on me. I haven’t even seen her face. I try and tell myself she’s probably unattractive, but I know I’m lying. I want to see her face. I need to know this mystery girl.

  “Hurry up in there, buddy! I gotta go bad.”

  I shake my head from left to right and button up my pants.

  “All finished,” I say as I swing the door open.

  But my business here clearly isn’t all finished. I’ve got to find out more about this woman.

  CHAPTER 14

  Violet

  I finish up my shift and go to the lockers as fast as I can.

  “Somebody’s in a hurry,” Penelope says.

  “The policeman’s here!” I say as I unbutton my work shirt as quickly as possible and press my tits up in my bra before sliding into my street clothes.

  “I knew it! I knew there was someone in particular.”

  “Penelope, this isn’t someone in particular. This is the one.”

  “Hold on there girl. You sound like one of our gamblers who’s in a rush to put all their chips
on the table before they really know what they’re getting into.”

  “I put all my chips on the table a long time ago…except I didn’t. I know exactly what I’m getting into.”

  “Are you sure because yesterday you were saying there was no one and now you’re running around like a puppy in love. You’ll probably start wetting yourself soon and you best believe I’m not cleaning up this carpet. It’s probably been here since—”

  “Gotta run,” I say.

  I don’t have time for anything right now. Just him.

  I don’t even know where he is or whom he’s with. I just have to call my brother and get his number, but first I’ll see if I can find a needle in a haystack and catch a glimpse of him if he’s somehow still here.

  I dash out onto the casino floor and stop. I center myself allowing my eyes to scan every direction at speeds so fast it’s like I’ve had fifty cups of coffee, but that’s not the case at all. This adrenaline rush is real, it’s natural, and it’s pure.

  I step forward and suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder from behind.

  I swing my head around and…

  “Chance!”

  “It’s you!” he says.

  It’s me? As in this is the most romantic moment ever? That’s sure what it sounded like to me and everyone listening, which may be no one but us, but I’m exactly sure that’s what he meant by his tone…us.

  My emotions get the best of me and I throw myself into his arms…or more accurately I pass out.

  CHAPTER 15

  Violet

  “Can you hear me Violet?”

  I open one eye slightly to find Chance is still there. I feel his hand against my cheek.

  “This isn’t the time, place, or way I imagined you slapping me.”

  “What? I think you’re still out of it. You passed out.”

  “I passed out?” I look around and see he’s holding me in his arms and we’re over by the wall.

  “Everything okay over here, sir?”

  “We’re good. We just need to step out for some air.”

  “I can call a doctor or an ambulance if she’s not okay. Sometimes mixing alcohol with the heat can take a toll quickly.”

  “No we’re fine,” I say.

  The man nods and walks off.

  “The heat?” I ask. “He does know this is winter, right?”

  Chance smiles. “I see you still have a feisty streak to you.”

  “I do? I mean I did?”

  “You did run with the boys back in the day. Your brother reminded me of it yesterday.”

  “Oh,” I say.

  “Not that I needed reminded. I remember clear as day.”

  I want to say he’s being honest but it sounds like he’s just trying to cover up the fact that he forgot. My fantasy is not off to a good start.

  “What are you doing here?” we both say at the same time.

  We laugh as he helps me to my feet.

  “I’m still working at the station here,” he says. He slides his arm inside mine and I secure myself around his big bicep. I could definitely get used to this.

  “I thought you left after…what happened,” I say as we walk together towards the exit.

  “I was planning to, but I changed my mind. At the time I decided it would be best not to pull Charlotte out of school, especially in the middle of the semester. Plus I like the guys I work with and didn’t want to relocate cross-country. Chasing bad guys in the heat is definitely better than chasing bad guys in the cold.

  “But it’s cold here now,” I say.

  “I feel pretty warm at the moment,” he says.

  “I was thinking the same thing.” Wow, am I being that obvious?

  “Would you like some caffeine to get your motor running again?”

  My motor has definitely picked right back up where it left off. Coming to in his arms was all the cure I needed, but I’m not about to turn down the chance to spend more time with him.

  “Yeah, sure,” I say.

  “There’s a coffee shop right over th—,” we say together again.

  “That’s twice n—,” we say together again.

  We both hold up three fingers and I burst out laughing, burying my head in his arm. It feels perfect. Too perfect. It’s like that bend in his elbow was made for me.

  But as much as I want to speed forward to the part where we are actually more than just friends, I know I need to keep my cool. There’s so much to catch up on, and he’s just a friend. A very nice friend who’s probably being nice because of my brother. Nothing more.

  He motions with his head across the street towards a mom-and-pop coffee shop. They’re hard to find these days amongst the numerous strip malls and cookie-cutter buildings. Everything is just so fabricated looking. It’s nice to find a place with an authentic vibe. I’m kind of surprised a guy like him would know about a place like this. Maybe he used to come here with his wife? That would be awkward and a fantasy destroyer.

  We maneuver our way through the crowded street. It’s surprisingly packed at this hour and time of year. I expect it to be busy over New Year’s but already?

  Because of the noise from the street and all the bodies we can’t really talk, but that’s okay. I feel safe and warm here with him. I see other girls looking at me like we’re a couple. Some look at us like we’re perfect together and some give me mean looks.

  Does everyone we pass think we’re together? If they think it looks right, and I sure as heck think it would look right, well then what’s to say he couldn’t with time?

  We walk into the coffee shop and go to order.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” he says.

  I feel like he’s stealing my words all over again.

  “Yeah. What luck?” I say.

  His hand reaches for his pocket and he pulls out his phone. He looks at the number.

  “I’m really sorry, but can you excuse me for a second?”

  “Sure,” I say.

  “Officer Dawson,” he says into the phone. He hands me a fifty-dollar bill and mouths the word “black.”

  I get in line and try not to eavesdrop on his conversation, but I can’t help myself.

  “There’s no one else to cover it? Right. I know. It’s my day off and it’s important. No one? You tried every number on the call sheet above mine? Okay. I’ll be right over.”

  This doesn’t sound good for me.

  “Violet, I’m really sorry. That was the station. I got called in. Sounds like some really serious stuff is happening and they need me.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, everything will be fine,” he says. It’s incredible how reassuring his voice is and I’m not even the one in danger.

  “Did you still want to get your coffee?”

  “No time, unfortunately. But do you need a ride anywhere?”

  “No, it’s okay. My car’s just across the street.”

  “Mine to. Want to walk over there quickly?”

  “Sure.”

  We exit the coffee shop and are back on the street. When he said quickly he wasn’t kidding.

  I can hear his phone vibrating nonstop. This must be really serious. I’m walking as briskly as I can in order to keep up. I feel like he’s holding back his pace so he doesn’t lose me.

  “You can go on ahead. It’s okay,” I say. I can sense I’m slowing him down from someone who really needs him right now, not that I haven’t thought about how much I’ve needed him for years but this is completely different.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s your number?”

  I quickly recite my new number, hoping I got it right. I’m not in the habit of giving it out and hope I haven’t made a mistake.

  “Got it,” he says. “Talk soon.”

  He turns away from me and starts jogging at a pace that’s practically a run. He looks like an athlete maneuvering through all those people. It’s like back when we were younger and he ran around ev
eryone in those football games.

  But this time it’s not guys on the football field that he’s eluding. He’s running from me.