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“I just want to give you a chance to let me win my money back,” he says with a dry laugh, sounding and looking like a lunatic arch-villain.
He’s doing his best to sound like an innocent, but I smell the stench of scam and insane cheat rising off him as much as I can smell the overpriced booze from his thick glass, which he looks like he’s had more than one or two of so far.
Reminding myself to say nothing directly about what I know about him and Vince, I only crease a smile, and declining a drink for myself, I remark that we have a plane to catch too.
“I thought you’d stay the whole weekend, Ethan? And who is ‘we’?” Levenson asks, doing his best to look disappointed. But a little half-smile plays on his lips as his eyes narrow, giving me the distinct impression he’s up to more than just stealing funds from investors that say no.
Settling myself into the chair, I get straight back up again when I see Krissy come in.
She looks lost until our eyes lock, and I can’t hide how glad I am to see her.
How beautiful she looks.
“It was supposed to be just you and me, Ethan,” Levenson snarls, not liking the plus one surprise I’ve invited along.
“Krissy’s with me now. We’ll be flying out tonight,” is all I have to say about that. Not even thinking Levenson needs me to explain that Krissy doesn’t work for his casino anymore.
And motioning the dealer to get her a chair, I move to greet her.
Kissing her neck, telling her she looks amazing.
Levinson groans impatiently, barking orders at the dealer to hurry up so we can get this over with.
“It was your idea,” I remind him, and noticing the velvet box Krissy’s carrying, I take a moment to help her into her new diamond necklace.
The kind she can have for every outfit if she wants it.
I make sure it’s fastened properly and sitting like it should around her neck.
My hands instantly want to stray to her breasts, but I gulp down hard on my instincts.
I’ve really come along so Krissy can see for herself, so she’ll believe me now when I tell her we have plenty of money.
And if you lose?
Well…we’ve still got plenty of money. But the money on the table is Krissy’s once we walk outta here.
I guess I just want to stick it to Levenson too, and everyone like him, especially the kind of people he represents.
“Very nice, and how very touching,” Levenson says with mock emotion. “Now, can we spin the fucking wheel already? Double or nothing, I’ll choose the—,” he says, but Krissy interrupts him.
“Why don’t you play a different game?” she asks us both, cocking her brow at me.
Silently letting me know as well as she does that Levenson’s playing by his own rules, and most likely his roulette wheel that will stop when he says so.
He smiles a crooked smile at Krissy but fixes his eyes on mine again.
“You’re in, or you forfeit,” he says flatly. “My casino. My rules,” he says for what I hope is the last time.
“I think Krissy’s right,” I announce. “How do I know that wheel isn’t rigged?” I ask, creasing my brow.
Knowing I’m right when I notice the bead of cold sweat running from Levenson’s temple, next to a throbbing vein that looks like it might burst any second.
He sighs bitterly.
“Fine. First to twenty-one or closest without busting wins. Happy?” he retorts, signaling the dealer to change games and making a point of having him show a brand new deck of cards straight from the pack.
I give Krissy a ‘thanks!’ look before pulling her chair out, making sure she’s settled in her rightful place by me.
And not anywhere near fucking Saul Levenson.
But I have no idea how to play Blackjack, and if Krissy didn’t know how much I suck at gambling, I get the awful feeling she’s about to find out.
We’ve still got enough…even if I lose and they run away with the family fortune…we’ve got each other, and that’s more than enough.
It’s the closest I’ve been to nervous in ages, but I keep my best poker face for the blackjack deal.
The dealer notes the chip and repeats the conditions of the bet. In case I missed them.
Levenson sneers across from me, his eye starting to twitch, but he signals the dealer to do his thing.
My cards are face up and I hear Krissy gasp.
One look at her sidelong tells me it’s a good kinda gasp.
And when I hear the dealer say, “Blackjack…! Congratulations. Mr. Silverthorne. Mr. Levenson. You need 21 to draw,” I know I’ve done well.
Levenson gives me a sour look but finally shrugs. Smiling to himself like a man who could afford to lose a few million.
Still convinced I have no idea what he and Vince are up to.
