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“Look at you, big winner.” The cocktail server reappeared with a plastic cup that looked like a mix of orange juice and fruit punch. “You’re up to fifty-bucks.”
Maisie grabbed the drink she was offered and took a sip, choking as the liquid burned her throat. “Holy shit! What’s in this again?”
“Rum and some juice.” The server chuckled. “I may have told ’em to go heavy on the rum, seeing how this is your first free drink in Vegas.”
“Well, thank you.” Maisie blinked to keep her eyes from watering any more than they already were. As the server turned, Maisie spotted some loose bills on the tray, and it struck her what they were for. Drinks were free, but she still should tip. “Hold on a minute.”
Maisie set the drink down and grabbed her wallet. Her fingers hesitated a fraction of a second over the two remaining twenties, but with a quick glance at the winnings on her screen, she did what she knew was right and plucked out one of the bills, setting it on the woman’s tray. Being frugal was one thing, but Maisie refused to act cheap, and she owed the server a big thank you for all she’d done.
“You’ve waited tables before.” The server eyed Maisie with new respect.
“The night shift at a twenty-four-hour diner,” Maisie confirmed. It had been her only option to keep up with rent when her father had gotten sick. Days had been spent as his de facto nurse. “Hardest job of my life.”
“Yeah, I can always tell the people who get it. Now, you have some fun. I’ll check back on you for another drink soon,” the server promised, but Maisie shook her head.
“I only need one. It’s already making me a little woozy.” Sadly, this was not an exaggeration. One sip of a fruity rum drink and she was feeling warm all the way to her toes.
“You sure?” The server gave Maisie’s shoulder a quick pat. “In that case, if there’s anything else you can think of, you let me know.”
When she was alone once more, Maisie’s eyes shifted from her unfinished drink to the dollar amount on the slot machine. Indecision plagued her. Keep playing or head home? Even with the unexpected tip, she was ahead of where she’d started. On the other hand, she’d promised herself if she won, she could keep playing.
Now, you have some fun,the server’s voice said in Maisie’s head. Something she knew she struggled to do.
Maisie entered her wager and placed her hand on the lever. If it had been her own voice telling her to do it, she might’ve said no, but who was she to argue with the wisdom of a seasoned Vegas cocktail server?
Maisie paused for a sip of fruity rum drink and then pulled the lever. After much spinning, of the wheels on the screen as well as the surrounding room as the alcohol tickled her brain, lights began to flash. The dollar amount in the corner of the screen shot up to $312.45. In a state of disbelief, Maisie tossed back the rest of her drink, no longer noticing the burn.
Holy shit.
Keep playing or cash out? The question had become infinitely harder to answer, but out of the corner of her eye, Maisie caught sight of a familiar cowboy hat with a sandy blonde ponytail sticking out the back. A wave of heat engulfed her, which could’ve been from the rum but maybe not. A fuzzy thought occurred. Maybe Lady Luck was in her favor. She spun in her seat in time to see the hat, along with the woman who was wearing it, disappear through a door at the far end of the casino.
Maisie continued to spin, whacking her shoulder into the slot machine with enough force to knock some sense into her head. Time to cash out. With the ticket for her winnings in her hand, but only maybe half her usual brainpower engaged, Maisie dashed to the door where the cowgirl had been a moment before.
It was locked.
Maisie slumped.
“You need some help, sugar?”
Maisie’s heart rate sped up as she recognized the cocktail server’s voice. Sure enough, when she turned around, the woman was studying her with kindness and a hint of concern. “Where does this door go?”
“That goes to the backstage area where all the stalls are for the horses. Staff only, though.”
“Oh.” Maisie was sober enough to know she was out of luck but slightly too tipsy to mask her disappointment. “I saw a… friend… go through here a minute ago.”
A friend?Maisie wasn’t sure why she’d said that and prayed the server wouldn’t ask her friend’s name.
“You’ve got it bad, don’t ya?”
Maisie offered the server a slightly dazed shrug, unable to explain the overwhelming onslaught of internal sensations compelling her to reconnect with the woman in the hat. Not even to herself.
“I probably shouldn’t, but…” The cocktail server bit her lip before reaching into her cleavage and producing a keycard. Maisie would’ve been lying if she said she wasn’t a little bit impressed by the feat. The server held the card to a rectangular panel on the wall. The door clicked. “You seem sweet, and it’s the least I can do for a good tipper.”
“Thanks!” Maisie was giddy as she pulled the door open.
“I hope he’s handsome!”
The server’s final words barely registered as Maisie headed down the long, empty corridor. She didn’t respond but kept walking. It didn’t seem worth correcting the assumption it was a cowboy she sought. That the intriguing stranger was undeniably a woman was the type of thing Maisie might’ve stopped to question under different circumstances, like maybe half a rum-soaked cocktail ago. It wasn’t like finding a woman attractive was familiar territory.
