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Cracking a hint of a smile, I say, “It’s cute that you think you get to keep any of your winnings. Since they were obtained by counting cards, I don’t think so.”
That makes her tough exterior crack for just a moment as she slightly wriggles in her seat. But it doesn’t take long for her attitude to emerge once again.
“I didn’t think it was illegal to count cards,” she says smugly.
“Katarina, I think you and I both know that matters like these don’t always operate within the black and white confines of the law.” Still looking at my menu, I add, “Now, pick what you want to eat.”
She picks up her menu with a heavy sigh and looks it over. When the waitress comes back, I order the smoked salmon and a bourbon. Katarina orders a steak and lobster and a Long Island iced tea with four cherries. It’s clear that she thinks she’s sticking it to me by ordering something expensive.
She’s cute.
Once we have our drinks in front of us, I ask, “Do you know who I am?”
“Dominic Delgado,” she answers matter-of-factly.
“I’m impressed.”
“There’s a giant photo of you in the entryway to your casino, Mr. Delgado. It’s hard to miss.”
“Please call me Dominic.”
She nods. “But all I know about you is your name. You seem to know a whole hell of a lot more about me.”
I let out a small chuckle. “I have very good people. Better than you can imagine. There’s isn’t much I don’t have access to. When I want something, it will be mine—information included.”
Clearly getting a bit more curious, she asks, “What exactly do you know about me?”
“I know that you’re from Atlantic City, and I know that you’ve been kicked out of every casino back home due to your little side gig. I also know that you came here to earn enough money to pay off your father’s debts. And you’re trying to do it sooner rather than later, so they don’t come after you…again.”
The look on her face shifts from one of apathy to one of embarrassment.
At that moment, our food comes out. Katarina stares at her plate without saying anything.
“Eat,” I command forcefully. She’s spent so much time at the Blackjack tables the past few days I doubt she’s eaten much.
It takes a minute, but finally, she picks up her fork and starts to dig in. As she cuts into her steak, she asks, “So, what happens after we eat?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you going to threaten me? Beat me up? Worse?”
“Didn’t plan on it,” I say between bites.
“So, what then?”
I set my knife and fork down and wipe my mouth before leaning my elbows on the table. “I have a proposition for you.”
“A proposition?”
I nod, and she waits for me to continue.
“You have a money problem,” I begin. “I think I can help you out with that.”
“You want to give me money?”
I can’t help but laugh. “You should know better than that. Nothing comes without a price.”
“And what would that price be, Dominic?”
