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Kyler takes off and then the man leans back in his seat and stares at the remaining guy at the table whose face is still buried in his phone. Seconds tick by before he glances up and meets his gaze. All it takes is a jerk of his head and the other guy is up and leaving.
The silence is uncomfortable for a few seconds before I speak. “Can I get you anything?”
He inhales again, looking me up and down. “Who are you?”
“I’m Mariella. I just clocked in.”
“How long have you worked here?”
“Six months.”
He makes a noise in the back of his throat, still checking me out. “Do you like it?”
“I like the money.”
“Do you like the attention you get in that dress?”
I jerk back slightly. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve seen five different men checking your ass out since I’ve been here.”
“Well, I’m sure there’s been more than that,” I say, taking a step backward. “I’ll go get that bottle for you. And your bill.”
He smirks, and it’s the first sign of emotion he’s shown. “I don’t pay the bill.”
“These bottles are five-thousand dollars each. You’re going to have to pay the bill.”
“Are you afraid you’ll get fired?”
“Iwillget fired. I’m not gonna let that happen because you just decided you don’t have to pay, because newsflash, everyone has to pay, even if they’re rich.Especiallyif they’re rich.”
He crooks his finger at me, calling me around the table to get closer to him. I hesitate, but something about the way he looks at me has my feet moving.
“Me and my brother own this place,” he says, putting the cigar between his lips.
My eyes widen. “Oh.” He smirks and I start questioning the truth of his statement. Who knows who owns what? I could say I own anything, and unless I’m speaking to the actual owner, nobody would know if I was lying or not. “What’s your name?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Should I?”
“I’m not used to being questioned.”
I stare back at him until he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He hands me a card that looks like an Ace of clubs from a deck of cards. In the center is the casino’s name and logo, a website and email address, and then the name Vicente Moreno.
I hand it back to him but he puts his hand up. “Keep it. In case you need a reminder of who has to pay and who doesn’t. And don’t worry. I won’t let you get fired.” He sits back and takes a hit off the cigar. When he speaks to me again, the smoke billows out between us. “Go get that bottle for me, will you?”
Without any words, I turn on my heel and take the empty glasses back to the bar before grabbing the expensive bottle of liquor and walking back to him.
He’s standing up, slipping his phone in his pocket.
“Here you go.”
His fingers wrap around the crystal. “See you around.”
I dip my chin and watch him walk away, frozen in a trance.
When I glance down at the table, I see several one-hundred dollar bills. When I pick them up and count, it totals a thousand dollars. He didn’t pay the bill, but he did make sure I had a nice tip.
