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"And do you enjoy it?" he probes further, his gaze unrelenting.
I want to say I enjoy every moment I spend withhim,and he makes this job bearable, but there's no way I can reveal such a secret to this stranger. I am momentarily lost in thought, and it dawns on me that I haven't answered his question.
"It's...it's a job," I finally manage to reply, and in response, his rich, velvety laughter washes over me like a warm wave, sending shivers racing down my spine. I crave to hear that laughter again, to be the cause of it.
"Hmm, fair enough," he muses. "And how are your tips?"
"You've been generous, Mr...." I try to get him to share more about himself, to reveal his name, but he's elusive.
He leans in, his every movement deliberate and enticing. "It's better you don't know my name... not yet. But I can make it worth your while." With those words, he reaches into his jacket again, my curiosity piqued.
What is he hiding in there this time?
A bundle of cash emerges from his jacket, and my eyes widen in disbelief as he hands it to me. "
You can't be serious," I gasp, my fingers lightly brushing the stack of bills.
"This is for you," he declares, his voice unwavering. "You've been serving our tables all week, and this is the least I can do. Will you continue working the room?" he asks.
I can hardly believe my luck, my heart racing as I gaze at the pile of money. I look back up at him, and it's then I notice his intense scrutiny. His eyes are fixed on my lips as I speak, and a mysterious glint flickers within them. It's a look I can't quite decipher, but if it's anything like the electrifying sensation coursing through me, it's clear that our attraction is mutual.
I muster the courage to ask what I have wanted all week,"Thank you for the invitation and the opportunity.”He cocks his head at me, allowing me time to get out what I am trying to say. His nearness is wreaking havoc on my nerves. The scent of him leaving me weak in the knees, but I can't think about all of that right now. I take my older brother's advice, what he taught me over the last month and what I learned by myself by working around gamblers for the last two months and throw caution to the wind. I take a deep breath and go for it.
“Would it be possible for me to join the game instead of just serving? I'm feeling a tad lucky."
His eyes, sharp and perceptive, assess me as he takes in my request.
The weight of financial struggles and the well-being of my siblings push me to take this risk. I'll be damned if he turns me down, willing to do what it takes. Before I can make my case, he responds.
“You play?”he asks, brows raised, clearly intrigued by my boldness.
“Some,”I lie like a rug.
"Interesting, Miss Ayyagari,"he smirks, eyes locking onto mine with a mysterious gleam."What's your poison at the tables?"
I'm momentarily confused by the slang, and it's a tell.
Damn it.
He looks amused, skeptical even, but explains what he means.
“What table game do you prefer?”
My gulp is audible, and my eyes widen as I admit,"Blackjack...I'm best at blackjack,"I say assuredly, with a curt nod.
He leans in, his skepticism lingering."The buy-instartsat $50,000. Can you handle that?" heasks, making sure I understand the initial amount required to participate in the high-stakes games.
My brain does some quick math, a skill I plan to use big time in this blackjack game. Considering the tips he's been slipping me this week and draining my college fund—something that stings every time I think about it…
“Mmm-hmm, sure. No problem.”
He raises a brow, totally seeing through me. I just know it, but he gives in.“Okay, you can join. However?—”
“Yes?”I ask, probably a bit too eager.
His gaze drops to my lips again as I bite back any other questions from spilling out. He reaches out and brushes a loose strand of my black hair away from my face, a casualty of my earnest head-bobbing. I'm way too eager and need to chill.
His eyes meet mine again. We're so close we're practically sharing the same air. My chest rises and falls, and his gaze dips to the valley of caramel-skinned cleavage beneath my casino cocktail waitress getup.
