Apparently, the penthouse had its own floor, the top one, and only our key cards could get us there. Once at the top floor, the elevator doors opened with a discreet chime. A waft of cool, filtered air spilled into the private foyer. There was a small area outside the elevator before the door to our room, to leave an umbrella or sit down. Gwen keyed us in, and we crossed the threshold into the penthouse, the door swinging shut behind us as we entered.
“Holy cow,” Gwen breathed as Gray whistled under her breath.
The top-floor penthouse of the Orchid Royale Casino wasn’t just fancy—it was the kind of place that made you instinctively check if you were dressed appropriately to enter (which I wasn’t).
Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around the entire suite, giving a sweeping view of Atlantic City’s glittering skyline in the deepening dusk. The boardwalk below flickered with glittering lights, and the ocean was a dark, rolling expanse, reflecting the casino’s neon glow in streaks of yellow, red, and gold.
Inside the living room, everything gleamed. Soft, golden light from the lamps warmed the space. A curved sectional in soft dove-gray leather wrapped around a marble fireplace that flickered red, yellow, and blue with gas-fed flames. An enormous flat-screen television hung above the fireplace. A low glass coffee table sat in front of the sofa, the kind that looked fabulous until you set a bowl of popcorn on it with a little too much enthusiasm. Something I could see myself doing, so I mentally reminded myself to be careful.
A mahogany bar stood nearby, stocked with several bottles of different-colored liquors ready to be poured into one of the crystal tumblers that sparkled like diamonds. To the left of the bar, a sleek kitchenette gleamed with white counters and cabinets and what looked like a fancy espresso machine.
Our suitcases already sat to one side of the sectional, neatly lined up with no porter in sight. I pulled out my phone, snapped a few photos, and texted them to Slash. I sent a caption, telling him we’d been upgraded to a penthouse. Definitely bonus points for me on the fun meter. It was a good sign to start out ahead on our wager.
Gwen purred with happiness as she bounded into the living room and spun around like she was auditioning for a reality show. “We have arrived, ladies.”
Basia strolled into the room and dropped onto the plush sofa. “I’m not going to lie. This is pretty sweet, Gwen.”
“Right?” Gwen said, grinning. “There are two large bedrooms with two double beds each and an en suite bathroom.”
“Want to room, Gray?” I asked and got a nod. Although I’d roomed with Basia in college, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to relax if she got a weird midnight craving. And while I liked Gwen, I wasn’t certain I could handle her current level of enthusiasm, either.
Gray went to get her suitcase, pulling it toward one of the rooms. I followed her, lugging my stuff behind. It was a sleek space with two beds, crisp white bedding, and an unsettlingly large portrait of a seagull above the dresser.
“That picture reminds me of my wedding,” I said as I unpacked my chargers and backup chargers. “The one that ate my dad’s sandwich and caused me to clock him.”
“I remember,” she said. “I wrote the emergency medical plan and it didn’t cover you knocking out your dad with a candlestick. I’d never felt so underplanned.”
I winced at the memory of that. “Yeah, well, can I cover the portrait with a pillowcase? It’s giving me the creeps.”
“Knock yourself out,” Gray said and then looked at me over her shoulder. “And you know I didn’t mean that literally, right?”
“Right,” I said as I tucked a pillowcase over the portrait. “And thanks for letting me room with you.”
Gray hung up a windbreaker in the closet and smiled. “I get it. And I’m happy with this arrangement, too, so it’s a win-win.”
“Good. That makes me feel better.”
I finished unpacking my suitcase and went out into the living room. Basia reclined on the sectional, rubbing her stomach. “Who is ready to win some money?” she asked cheerfully.
“Me!” Gwen said, grabbing her handbag. “Let’s go.”
“I’m feeling a bit nervous about casinos,” I started. “I’ve never been to one before. What if I suck at cards against an experienced dealer?”
“You’ll never know until you try,” Gray said, patting me encouragingly on the shoulder. “Come on, give it a shot. We all have faith in you. Besides, we’re here, so we might as well check it out.”
“I guess you’re right,” I said, remembering my bet with Slash. If I was good at cards at home, hopefully that would translate to a casino.
Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I followed them toward the door. After all, my math and card skills might earn us some money and provide the framework for having a lot of fun for the weekend.
I was about to find out.
Surely nothing could go wrong with four women walking confidently into an Atlantic City casino.
Chapter Three
Lexi
As soon as we hit the casino floor, I experienced a sensory overload of lights and bells intermixed with omnipresent smells of alcohol and cigarette smoke. I hovered behind the group, adjusting my hoodie and scanning the crowd, eyes scanning for every possible exit route. Slash’s voice echoed in my brain.
