hopes up.
Check. Check. One man eyed my chest again and folded.
A four. Not what I needed. The straight was out, but I could still win on the double if it worked out in my favor. The chubbier one of the two still had his eyes on the table right in front of me, no doubt using his peripherals to check me out. I did my squeeze-and-lean trick, and he rubbed his neck. He was on the edge. He’d lost his concentration, and he was going to either lose or fold.
He folded just after I thought about it.
Ms. Sourpuss was still glaring at me, probably unhappy that my rack was getting more attention than hers was. I smiled brightly at her and raised the bet. She had to either call or fold.
She called. Who would have thought?
Dealer threw out a nine. Too little too late, but I wasn’t out of the game yet. The last guy folded, and it was just us two ladies, standing off. Fine by me, it was difficult to beat the two kings I had with what was on the table. She either had to have a king and an ace as the kicker in her hand, or I was ahead of her. I was willing to take the chance that she didn’t have those exact two cards in her hand.
I raised my bet again.
She clenched her jaw, and I saw ‘fold’ written in her eyes, but the tick in her jaw spelled out ‘stubborn’ so she called.
The last card was another king. It could be either-or. She was the first to lay down her cards. Double nines.
I put mine down, and the chips were mine. She scoffed at me as if I’d personally done her in, and a new hand was dealt, everyone back on-board.
Forty-five minutes and I’d cleaned the table. Winning was amazing. The thrill rushed through my body, and I felt like a million bucks.
I didn’t have that much yet, but the night was still young.
I went to two more tables where I cleaned up, and a man in a black suit and a butter yellow tie that did nothing for his skin tone approached me.
“Your playing impressed us,” he said.
“Thank you.” I flashed a cute smile, hoping it would get me somewhere. Whether it was the smile or the playing I didn’t know, but he nodded and looked over my shoulder nonchalantly.
“I’d like to invite you to the VIP room. We’re starting a high stakes poker game in half an hour, and we’d like to offer you a seat at the table.”
Bingo.
I feigned looking surprised, keeping my smugness on the down low, and nodded.
“I’d love to,” I said. He must have been a casino official, and I noticed the gold plate with his name on. Charlie. That confirmed it for me. He held his hand out, gesturing toward the gilded doors that led through to the high rollers’ area where the VIPs got to play for a lot more money. I thanked him and walked through.
I’d been in the VIP room once before, and the memory didn’t do it justice. Where the rest of the casino was decorated with a lot of gold, the VIP room had the red and the brown, but cream finishes instead, not showing the glamour of a possible life, but complimenting the clients who were already leading it.
There were ladies in cocktail dresses and men in tuxedos. There were very few people who were dressed down, no doubt other promising players picked off the floor, and I felt underdressed.
I did up the button on my blouse again. This was classy business, no space for using my body the way I had before.
I eyed the table. There were ten players around it—double what I’d been playing until now, and it was intimidating, with all of the men in tuxedos. Still, I wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge.
I ordered myself a fancy sounding drink from a menu I didn’t recognize anything on and leaned against the bar, waiting for the bartender to mix it.
It came out the color of sunset, and when I tasted it, it tasted good. Thank God. It had a kick of alcohol in it, but nothing I couldn’t handle.
I sat down at the first call, my drink on the table in