by Odell, Roxie
The whole trip had been insane. She’d gone to Vegas seeking solace from heartache, but the pain that had carried her there was mild compared to what she was experiencing after Derrick. He’d carried her to soaring heights and then let go. When she fell, she fell hard.
Back home, she tried to focus on her work. Telecommuting was usually a luxury she enjoyed, but now, she found it difficult to get anything done. Her head and her heart were so scattered, making her dangerously undisciplined. Her bad mood sucked all motivation and clarity from her.
Corrine’s mind was fixed elsewhere, particularly on gambling. “Never again,” she had told herself when she left Vegas. “Or at least, not for a long time.” Still, as soon as she faced her empty living room in Paradise, she wanted nothing more than to go back and shadow Bill at the card tables until she couldn’t feel anything anymore.
She couldn’t get Derrick Quinn out of her mind.
She kept listing out his better qualities to herself. He was undeniably gorgeous. His sandy hair and pale blue eyes, fringed with the curliest lashes she had ever seen on a grown man before, still left her feeling shaky. She was a sucker for his perfection, and now that she was away from the hotel and had plenty of time to think about all they had done, she realized that maybe he truly meant some of the nicer, hotter, sweeter things he said and did.
Maybe he really was into me, she thought, torturing herself. Or maybe not. She had no idea. But married?! One moment, she was calling him a bastard, and the next, she was thinking of the looks he’d given her, his touch, their connection.
She desperately wanted to text him, just to say hello, but she knew she had burned that bridge when she asked the questions she simply had to have the answers to.
She couldn’t help but compare Derrick to her past relationship, and she even found herself tossing Bill into the mix. Like Derrick, Bill was tall, and the fact that the women he was most interested in were the queens in a deck of cards made him feel safer somehow. Bill was eye candy in his own way, and he was more than willing to keep her company, without any hidden agendas or nondisclosure forms to worry about.
“That settles it,” she muttered. No sooner than she had gotten home and sworn off Vegas, she wanted to be right back there. “I’m not getting any work done here anyway.” She gazed around her home sweet home, lonely and dull as it was.
She called Bill, grateful that they’d exchanged numbers on the trip.
“Hey,” he answered with a smile in his voice.
“Hi. You mind if I hang out with you while you do your thing?”
“I’d love that.”
A smile touched her lips. It was flattering that he sounded so happy about the idea. She’d made the right choice in calling him.
“Good. I’m glad you picked up,” she teased. “I figured you’d have some sort of do-not-disturb on your phone.”
“And how exactly would that work?” Bill kidded back.
“I’m not sure, but I grew up around the Strip. I know your type.”
“Yeah, yeah. Well, I’m at the Nugget now.”
“Really?”
“Yup. Like I told ya, that Tresor isn’t my normal stomping grounds. I’m a traditionalist. No more glitzy frou-frou hotels for me.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, mister,” she said.
She was really glad to hear it because the Golden Nugget was at the other end of town from the Tresor. That would allow her to safely experience Vegas with few unpleasant reminders, even if she secretly hoped to run into Derrick so the two of them could add a little more sin to Sin City.
It was bittersweet to return to the Strip, but she was also excited about it. The sky was the color of a fading bruise, but it was still clear, vibrant, and spectacular, like the neon she’d soon be experiencing.
Hitting Las Vegas was exactly like entering another dimension, another reality, so the pain she’d left behind there before was not waiting for her upon her return. She also appreciated the change in scenery. The Nugget had a retro atmosphere. It had been renovated to compete with the glitz and glamor of its mega-resort neighbors, but it maintained some classic, original style, and she would take the fabulous pool over a glass elevator any day.
Corrine’s room was on a different floor than Bill’s, but that didn’t really matter. He was always at the tables anyway. She was actually surprised that he left his gambling long enough to meet her when she checked in. When he showed up in the lobby, she was pleasantly reminded of what a handsome man he was. The spark was not there as it was with Derrick, but it was nice to have a good-looking man for company. “You keep surprising me,” she said. “Is the casino going to go belly up without you in there?”
“Meh, I thought I’d try this hospitality and humanity thing out for a bit,” he said. “It’s your call. Stakes or steaks?”
She laughed at the pun. “Well, I hate to be cliché, but you look like a gamblin’ man to me,” she said, wearing what seemed to be her first real smile in ages.
“Stretch, you’re all heart,” he said eagerly. “Let’s go.” He took her arm and led her into the gambling area.
“You like Keno?” she asked.
“I like all this stuff.”
A Keno runner noticed them and asked if they wanted to play.
“Two please,” said Bill, then handed Corrine a Keno card.
“I’m afraid I’m not sure how,” she admitted, blushing a bit as she drew a blank.
“Do you mind?” he asked eagerly, poised to mark her card for her.
She shook her head. “Go ahead.”
He very quickly circled some numbers for her. “Simple as that,” he said with a grin.
The Keno runner waited patiently as Bill marked his own card, and then he took both cards from him. A few minutes later, he returned to exchange them for punched tickets.
“Stretch, look at that!” Bill said in genuine amazement, looking at the screen. “Beginner’s luck!”
“Huh?” she asked.
“You hit,” he explained, pointing to the amount. “You won. Nice haul, too.”
Corrine’s chest tightened. “I couldn’t have won that much,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, tipping his invisible cowboy hat again.
“Shut up!” she shouted, staring at the prize of three thousand dollars. “Seriously?! I’ve never won that much in my life.”
“Well, let’s see how fast you can lose it,” Bill said with a chuckle.
“No way,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m going to save it.”
Bill’s face gathered with disappointment. “Don’t spoil the fun,” he said, then waved for the runner to give them two new cards.
“I have to,” she said. “I can’t believe I was so lucky, but I won’t be a fool. You play both cards, and then we’ll go get that steak.”
“But we just started,” he countered. “I ain’t even worked up an appetite yet.”
“Fine,” she said, relaxing a bit. “We can play one more, but I’m not betting big.”
“Whatever you say, Stretch,” he said with a wink.
“You fill it out for me again,” she said, handing the card to him.
“My pleasure.” He looked at the paper and quickly circled a bunch of numbers. “Good luck.”
Corrine was impatient to see how well she’d done. She understood how people could develop an addiction to gambling and how they could spend so much time and money in the casinos. There was a great allure in winning. She understood it even more when she won again, even if it wasn’t as big a pot. “Gee, if I had known winning is just a matter of circling numbers…” she said with a gasp.
“You would’ve tried Keno sooner, huh?” he finished with a big grin that stretched across his face. “We can eat now, but dinner’s on you, Little Miss Kick-Butt.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said.
“You could’ve won a lot more if you’d put more in, you know?” he said.
“Am I cramping your style, playing too
cautiously, Bill?”
“A little,” he responded. “Maybe we ought to part company for a while. I mean, I did my best, and I’m just being honest.”
She smiled. “That’s one thing I like about you.” She assumed they were just going to dine in the hotel steakhouse, so she was surprised when Bill took her on a walk over to a place called Oscar’s. It had a good reputation and a delicious menu.
“You look remarkably calm for a guy who wishes this was a Blackjack table,” she mused as they took their seats.
“I like you, Stretch,” he replied. “You get me.” He then pulled out a pair of oversized dice that looked like they were made out of gummi candy. He let them roll out of his palm onto the table between them.
“What’s this?” she said.
“Eh, just something to pass the time,” he said.
“Do you really gamble all the time?” she asked seriously. “Don’t you have family or friends?”
“I got you, kid,” he joked, playfully nudging her chin with his fist.
“Well, at the moment, yes, but—”
“I do,” he said, straightening in his seat. “Like I said, this is what I do for a living. Those suit-and-tie types work fifteen-hour days, and people say they’re successful. I only have to work a little overtime, doing something I love. I do take some days off, though. As for kinfolk, I’ve got an ex-wife and two boys, one in elementary school and one in junior high. I’m a hands-on dad. I get ‘em one week out of the month and every other weekend. I never miss a baseball game, even when I’m not coaching their teams.”
“Wow, that’s good,” she said, finding a new admiration for him.
“What about you?” he asked, turning the tables. “What do you do when you’re not hanging around casinos, spreading that good luck around?”
“I’m not a gambler,” she said, thinking it was a bit of an odd question, almost an accusation.
He arched his brow in a devilish way. “Not yet…”
“What?” she protested. “Are you suggesting that I’m going to catch the gambling bug?”
“Oh no,” he said. “Not you. You play it way too safe. I can feel it. I was talking about your family and friends.”
And just like that, he had her. She worked from home and did okay, but even with her flexible schedule, she had no social life. She did live a little vicariously through a few gal pals who seemed to be going someplace in life, but other than her fateful interludes with Derrick, the last highlight on her social calendar was the ill-fated relationship with the sorry doofus who unjustifiably dumped her.
“Touché,” she said.
“That bad, huh?” he asked. “It’s too bad, Stretch. You’re a gorgeous woman, the type every guy wants to be with and every woman wants to be. Hope that’s not taken as harassment or anything. Everybody’s so damn sensitive and easily offended these days.”
“No worries, Bill,” she said with a smile. “I don’t find you offensive. You’ve got to do me one favor, though.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to stop calling me Stretch.”
A pout came over his face, as if she had physically wounded him. “Fine,” he agreed reluctantly. “But you’ve gotta do me a favor, too.”
“What?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“You gotta try your steak medium rare. I like mine still mooing, but I’ll let you get away with one a little more fired. It’s the only way to eat steak, Stretch.”
Despite his insistence on continuing to use the nickname, Corrine was starting to find Bill pretty damn fun.
“Don’t go getting your panties in a bunch over the nickname,” he said. “Haven’t you ever had one before?”
“No, not really—at least not that I know of.”
“Well, it’s high time, and rest assured, it could be worse.”
A few minutes after they ordered, their meal was served, and Corrine looked down at the slightly bloody, pink meat before her, wearing a scowl on her face. “I’m not sure I can do this, Bill,” she said.
“Go on and eat that thing, girl,” he encouraged with a wink. “I wanna watch.”
Her steak turned out to be pretty good, as long as she didn’t look at it. At the end of the rushed meal, though, she was highly frustrated. Bill just scarfed down his food—food she would pay for with her Keno winnings—and then he was ready to pick up and go. He was clearly an eat-and-run kind of guy, with no time for coffee, dessert, or lingering.
As he grew antsy in his seat, consumed with his addiction to the gambling tables, it became clear that even though they pretended to have dinner together at Oscar’s, they were living two separate realities. Their minds were not even in the same realm.
“You ready?” Bill asked anxiously, rising as soon as the busboy cleared Corrine’s plate.
“Yeah, sure,” she said and dug through her purse.
“I was only joshin’ about that. I got this.” He set a voucher down on top of the check.
She frowned at that. She had been flattered that he took her to Oscar’s, like he might be trying to impress her, but now she knew it was only because he had a freebie. She wasn’t interested in him, but it was a little disappointing that he wasn’t interested in her.
She didn’t like to think of herself as shallow, but she was superficial enough to find the experience even more enticing because Bill was a decent-looking man, beneath all that gruffness and cheapness. She had to admit now that he was also an unavailable one, married only to Lady Luck. She had known that all along, but it sort of felt like she’d been dumped for a third time. Three strikes, you’re out.
“What do you plan to do for the rest of the night?” he asked. “Count your Keno take?”
Corrine smiled. Unbelievably, she had almost forgotten about her new thousands. “Oh yeah,” she said. “I just might.”
Night fell as they made their way down the sidewalk. Regardless of all her previous fantasies of gambling all night with Bill, she now found herself ready to collapse into bed, maybe even to pathetically cry into her pillow.
Head down and staring at the ground, she walked smack dab into someone. When she looked up, she realized it wasn’t just someone. It was the other occupant inside her tortured head space.
The one and only Derrick Quinn.
Chapter 8
Corrine and Derrick both stopped dead in their tracks, staring at each other.
Bill looked confused by the way Derrick and Corrine’s gazes were glued on one another. The man with Derrick, a man she recognized as Gil Frosh, the owner of the Tresor, also seemed puzzled.
Corrine didn’t give a shit. Bill and Gil might as well not exist.
She was focused on the intense magnetism between her and Derrick, although she wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Just the sight of him sent all her senses and emotions into overdrive, and her throat was instantly dry and tight. She knew she looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights, and her reaction was nothing short of obvious.
“Hi,” she said dreamily.
“Hello,” Derrick replied in the same star-struck way, a goofy smile on his face. “Good to see you, Miss Smith.”
Anyone with half a brain could see that something was going on between them. Bill’s eyes darted from Corrine to Derrick as if he were figuring out the puzzle.
Corrine snuck a glance at Derrick’s hand and noticed his wedding ring was gone. Somehow, he seemed to be much better-looking without it.
“Okay, Derrick,” Gil interrupted. “I’ve gotta get back to the hotel. You coming?”
“Yeah,” replied Derrick in a daze, never taking his eyes off Corrine. “I take it you’re not staying at the Tresor anymore.”
“No, we’re not,” Bill interjected. “The Golden Nugget’s got our business now.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” Derrick said mournfully, like it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. “Personally, I’m grateful for the Tresor. I don’t know what I’d do if that j
ob of mine didn’t give me a comfortable place to stay while I go through a divorce. Anyway, it was truly nice to see you again.” He paused, letting his words hover in the air between them.
He’s getting divorced? Holy shit.
A million questions ran through Corrine’s head, and she didn’t want to let him go. Taking a deep breath, she quickly reminded herself that anything she thought they had together simply wasn’t real.
It was just like a bad reality show. A bunch of scripted bullshit, just lust jerking us around. Whatever it was, though, it was so powerful that she told herself it was fine with her. That it was enough. She wanted to say she could live with it, but she knew she really couldn’t. She couldn’t be with Derrick if there was someone else in his life because she just wasn’t that selfish.
“I’ve gotta go now,” Derrick said again and then slowly walked away after Gil.
When Derrcick was gone, she turned toward Bill. “Why the hell did you tell him where I’m staying?” she snapped.
“It’s obvious the guy’s into you,” he remarked coolly. “And vice versa. This ain’t the first time I’ve see you do that come-closer-go-away dance with him. What really went down between the two of you, other than that broken elevator?”
She shook her head, tears hammering at the back of her eyes. “I’m really not even sure,” she said, desperately wanting to run after Derrick.
“I am,” Bill said. “You’ve got a thing, and you two ought to work it out, unless there’s more to the story.”
“There is, or was, I guess,” Corrine answered vaguely.
“All right, but he’s divorcing that part of the story now, right?” asked Bill. “The man said so himself, and it was damn obvious that he wanted you to hear it.”
“Yeah, well, he says a lot of things,” she said, moping. “I’ve learned not to believe it all. I didn’t even know he was married when we…” She trailed off, unable to bring herself to think about it.
“He obviously wasn’t that married,” said Bill dryly. “Look, it is what it is. You’re a beautiful woman, like I’ve already told you countless times. The difference between you and me is that you remember the guy over something personal, but I only remember him for the luck he brought me with those chips. I don’t think any amount of gorgeous is gonna change that. Do you get what I’m saying?”
