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Sydney took my hand, then led me to the table, saying, “We sure can.”
Happy with her response, I helped her sit on one of the large pillows before sitting next to her. Everything was starting to go how I envisioned it until my cell phone rang. Pulling it out of my pocket, I looked at the screen to see it was Batista calling.
Hitting the accept call, I put it on speaker and greeted, “What’s up, Batista?”
“You might want to get to the Blue Bayou. There are some players at one of the Blackjack tables asking questions about you and how they can get into the private Poker game. I think they’re some of Smitty’s men. I got our guys watching them, but I thought you would like to be here before I approach them. I’ll be on channel fifteen on the walkie,” he responds.
“I’m on my way. If they try to leave, grab their asses,” I order before ending the call.
“I’m going with you,” Sydney says, getting off my lap.
Standing, I tell her, “No, you’re going to stay here. You’ll be safe here if something happens.”
Sydney folds her arms under her ample breasts. “And you’ll be safer if I’m with you.” She narrows her eyes at me, “you said you wanted a Queen by your side, so don’t start our relationship trying to tell me what to do. We both know that’s not going to work. So, either I ride with you, or I’ll drive my own car. The choice is yours. It’s obvious those men are there because of what we did. I am just as much a part of this as you are.”
I smirk, as my dick jumps behind my slacks from her feistiness. Sydney has made her demand clear. Shit, if I wanted to tie her ass to one of the chairs, I’d probably have one hell of a fight on my hand, and I couldn’t be mad at her for it.
Sighing, I ask, “Do we need to swing by your house for you to change clothes? I would hate for you to get blood stains on your lovely suit.”
As she unfolds her arms, Sydney replies, “I do not. I make sure all of my light colored suits and other articles are pretreated to resist all stains and that includes blood, but I do need to call Booker and have him meet us there. So, let’s go.”
“Then after you, Ms. Morgan,” I state, moving my arm towards the doorway.
Sydney winks at me as she starts to walk away. Admiring the sway of her hips in her pants, I chuckle to myself, thinking how exciting our union is going to be.
After helping Sydney put her suit jacket back on and slide back into her heels, she grabbed her purse, then we left the house.
As we rode to the casino, we replanned our dinner date since tonight was interrupted. Sydney suggested we order from either Ruby’s or Bourbon Bistro and have dinner on her pontoon boat. I liked that idea, but instead of doing it on her pontoon, I thought we would have a better time on my eighty-nine-foot Ocean Alexander 27E yacht. Lady Babet is the name of my yacht. I’ll have Chef Lagniappe preparing our dinner out on the river. The luxury boat has three levels with four state rooms on the lower deck. The main deck has enough space for socializing extending to gathering areas on the top deck and fore deck. My on-call captain and deck crew will be there to wait on us hand and foot.
After renting one while Batista and I were in Miami three years ago, I was so impressed, I bought one from the dealer there and had it shipped here. It’s equipped with jet skis, a tender, and other gear. I keep it at a private dock off the river. Once Sydney heard the description of Lady Babet, she was on board with having dinner there. I told her to bring an extra set of clothing just in case we don’t make it back to the dock. We may spend the night on the yacht and come back the next day.
Pulling up to the casino, I park. Before the valet opens our doors, Sydney opens her purse and digs out her pistol. She hits the button on the side of it for the clip to fall out. Catching it with her free hand, she checks to make sure it’s fully loaded. Satisfied that it is, she pushes the clip back into the pistol, then loads it to make sure there’s a bullet in the chamber, taking the safety off.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
Sydney, cranes her neck at me, grinning, “If you stay ready, you never have to get ready.”
“Which is why I always leave the safety off of my gun,” I state, getting out, then coming to her side.
Offering Sydney my hand, she takes it, saying, “Good to know.”
Booker appears, “What the hell is going on Sydney?”
“I’ll tell you later, Booker. Right now, I just need you by my side. That Cajun we killed has people coming for us. Batista has captured two of them. They’re here and are waiting for us to question them.”
Booker frowns, peering at me. “And they’re still alive?”
“We need answers, Booker. We need to know what else they are planning to do,” Sydney says.
I can tell Booker doesn’t want to because of his protectiveness over Sydney, but concedes, saying, “Fine, but the first time the hairs on the back of my neck rise because of him, no voodoo doctor in the state will be able to save their asses.”
“Fair enough,” Sydney says.
Bypassing him, I lead Sydney inside of the casino with Booker and four of my men following behind us. I take them to the business office located on the first level. Richard, the manager, greets me. “Mr. DeLuca, it’s good to see you. Will you be playing the slots tonight?”
“No, Richard. I just need your walkie,” I tell him.
Richard’s level has the penny, five cent, twenty-five cent, and dollar slot machines. Some might not admit it, but these machines are one of the best earnings in this business. Pennies add up, and so do the rest.
