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“Uh-huh. Just don’t bitch to me when you’re flipping burgers for minimum wage because you lost all your money at poker tables.”
“I’ll just get a loan from you, Cap.”
“I knew it!” A guy at the table points at me. “You’re Maverick Hagen, the team captain of the Saints. And you’re…Pike Morgan, right?”
“Yes, sir.” Pike shakes the guy’s hand, but my focus is on the woman next to him.
She’s pretty, with dark wavy hair and hazel eyes framed by long lashes. In a plain black shirt and very little makeup, she’s not dolled up like every other woman I’ve seen tonight. I keep my eyes on her as the dealer goes to work, and I realize she’s watching the other players at the table. Her gaze lands on me, direct and clear and…something else is there, too. What is that I see in her eyes?
Confidence. She looks one-hundred-percent comfortable in every way. She’s hot, but that self-assured glint in her eyes makes her the sexiest, most intriguing woman in the room. I check her ring finger, exhaling with relief when I see that it’s bare.
The dealer is a younger guy, and he makes a mistake dealing, cringing with embarrassment. The woman smiles and says something to him, and my heart rate kicks up like it does before a face-off. The dealer gives her a grateful look, his eyes as adoring as a puppy dog’s.
Her smile is absolutely stunning. It lights up her whole face and makes her just…glow. It’s all I can do to look away from her and pay attention to the game.
I try, though. I fold the first few hands, just to get myself acclimated before I lay any big bets.
“American Airlines!” a guy at the table who flopped a pair of aces crows with satisfaction.
The gorgeous woman across from me ignores him, still watching other players instead. When she locks eyes with me, my only thought is that I don’t want her to turn away. I need to keep her attention on me, and before I even have time to think better of it, I wink at her.
I fucking winked. I’ve never in my life winked at a woman, and I’m not even any good at it. I probably looked like a teenage kid with something in my eye just now. But she shows no reaction, instead looking at her newly dealt cards.
As soon as the guy in the chair next to her gets up, I instinctively grab my chips, planning to go sit next to her. But an older Black man beats me to it, sliding into the empty seat.
“Gia, how’s it going?” he asks her.
“Can’t complain,” she replies without looking at him. “How are you?”
“I’m up for the night, but I think I’m gonna head over to the Bellagio. I heard there are some big guns over there tonight. You want to join me?”
He buys in and looks at his cards the same way Gia does, with no reaction.
“Nah, you know me, Jerry,” she says. “I like small guns.”
“Okay, but I better see you Saturday.”
“I’ll be there,” Gia responds. “What else am I gonna do on a Saturday night?”
“Sir?” The dealer gives me a questioning look.
I shift my focus back to the game, folding. I’m not thinking about poker right now, but about the woman across from me. Gia. I know her name now. And she apparently doesn’t have very exciting Saturday nights, which I hope means she’s single.
And if she’s not, any man who doesn’t wine and dine her like a queen doesn’t deserve her, anyway.
Jerry leaves and his seat is immediately filled by a woman wearing a skintight white dress with nothing beneath. The other men at the table gape, one guy getting kicked in the shin by his wife for it, but I’m still looking at Gia.
Short for Giada? Giana? I’m dying to know more about her.
As I sit at the table wondering what her story is, my chip count dwindles. I couldn’t care less, though. I just want to sit here and watch Gia. She bites her lower lip when she’s thinking, but otherwise shows no reaction to anything that happens in the game.
The woman in the tight dress waves at Pike to get his attention and says, “Hey. Want to go back to my room with me?”
“Sure,” he says, picking up his chips and bringing them over to me.
I immediately pass them to the dealer to cash out, but Pike says, “No, man. Play ‘em.”
I shake my head and pocket the $300 and change, because I seriously think it may be all the cash left from his bankroll by morning. I’ll give it to him when I see him next.
Pike claps me on the shoulder and then takes off with the woman, his hand sliding from around her waist down to her ass as they head for the elevator. I get back to my game, which is looking pretty sad. I’m down to $85 in chips.
