Page 35 of Wild Ace

Lexi

Swiping red lipstick across my lips, I rub them together and run my fingers through my curls to break them up.

I grab the dress I laid out on my bed and slip it over my head, careful not to ruin my hair or makeup. This dress has been sitting in my closet for so long, begging to be worn. I had nowhere and no reason to wear it until now.

It’s made of a shiny, silver, metal-like material that hangs and moves like water on my body. Two thin straps hold it up with a plunging neckline and slits on each side that go from the hem at mid-thigh, up the rest of my leg.

It’s a dress that’s meant to seduce, tease, turn heads, and make an impression. And that’s exactly what I want to do.

This game with Vinny ends tonight.

♠ ♣ ♥ ♦

I leave my coat in my car and grab my small clutch that only has my ID and a thousand dollars cash in it.

I never usually start with that much, but tonight is different. Tonight, I’m going to win until they stop me.

I take the elevator to the main level, and as I walk through the lobby to get to the casino floor, I feel the eyes of those I pass lingering, but I keep my eyes ahead of me.

Once I step down into the pit, I follow the black and white marble path laid out between the black carpeting where the machines and tables are.

I keep walking until I find a blackjack table that has four men already seated at it, and I stop, waiting until fresh decks of cards are placed in the dispensers before sitting in the far-left chair.

Reaching into my purse, I pull out my cash and slide it across the table to the pretty dealer. “Change, please,” I say to her, and she nods, taking my cash and spreading it out on the table to count.

I smile at the men around the table and one raises an eyebrow at my buy-in amount.

“Sorry, gentlemen. I hope you don’t mind me joining your table.”

“Of course not, beautiful. If you need help with the rules or how to bet and when to stop, you let me know.” He winks.

“I will,” I tell him, keeping my smile intact while rolling my eyes internally.

The pit boss verifies my buy-in amount and nods to the cameras above us while the dealer slides my chips across the table to me.

Let the fun begin.

♠ ♣ ♥ ♦

I’m up fifty grand, and the man who so generously offered to help me understand the rules, has since shut up and stuck around to watch me win well after he lost all of his own money.

I’ve progressively upped my bets with each new deal, and when the waitress delivers my third drink, I notice it’s considerably stronger than the previous two. I smirk to myself. I know the bartender was told to feed me a stronger drink in an attempt to throw me off my game.

Little do they know, it won’t work. But I like knowing they’ve taken notice of me.

I sip my drink slowly and tap the table to signal to the dealer to deal me another card.

Nineteen.

I wave my hand over my cards to stay, and since I’m in the last seat, it’s the dealer’s turn to flip her card, and I smile when I see a nine and an eight. I win.

I keep sipping my drink slowly, and I keep winning. Counting cards is a skill I developed over years of playing and practicing all through my teen years when my nonno would let me join in on his weekly game nights with his friends. I learned blackjack and poker from them, and the older men always encouraged me to use my brain when playing.

I learned their tells and perfected my own poker face.

They were like extra grandfathers to me, and one-by-one, they’ve all left. Whether it be into nursing homes or assisted living facilities, or they’ve passed on, the men that helped me become who I am are with me every time I use what I learned with them. I’d like to think they’d approve of my little revenge plan right now.

When my glass is empty, another appears, just as strong as the last. This one, I only stir and take baby sips from to appease those watching me.

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