Page 65 of Caesar DeLuca
I glance around the bar at the other patrons. There’s a group of five girlfriends that seems to be a bachelorette party. The woman sitting in the middle wears a sparkly crown, the lacy veil it’s attached to draped over her back. Two men sit off in the far corner huddled close, sipping on pints. The only person at the bar counter other than me sits droopy-eyed as he scrolls through his phone.
This isn’t the exciting night I’d envisioned.
I swallow down half of my amaretto sour and urge myself to make a big move. Really make tonight worth it.
Downing the rest of my amaretto sour, I reach for my phone and bring up my contact list.
Caesar gave me what he called a very private number few knew about. He said to call it if I ever needed him. But he must’ve meant serious situations. If I were ever in trouble or in harm’s way and needed his help.
I’m sure he didn’t want me showing up at his casino and calling him at random.
On my birthday, no less.
The alcohol has already affected my bloodstream. Warmth pours over me, and I smirk to myself.
Who says what need is?
Maybe I need to see him. Maybe I need his company. I need him to put it down like he had the night we slept together.
It’s my birthday. Consider it a gift.
I’m aware I’m probably doing too much, but I can’t stop myself from pressing the button marked Caesar. Bringing the phone up to my ear, I hold in my breath and listen to the rings. After the third one, I lose any nerve and go to hang up.
Caesar answers on the next ring. “Ariana?”
“Oh! You answered. I wasn’t sure if?—”
“Ariana, are you alright?” he asks. “You’re not in trouble again, are you?”
“No, no… nothing like that.” I stand up from the barstool for a glance around the casino floor. It’s exciting to imagine Caesar somewhere among the crowd. “I’m fine. I’m actually in your casino right now.”
“In my casino as in you’re in Atlantic City?!”
“Unless there’s another Crown Casino in New Jersey I didn’t know about?”
“Ariana, are you out of your mind? Where are you?”
“I just told you?—”
“No, where are you? Where in the casino?”
I can hear Caesar’s hasty footsteps and the rustling noise of him moving through the room he’s in. He’s dropped whatever it is he was doing, and he’s heading out to come get me.
My heart flutters inside my chest.
“I’m by the roulette tables on the ground floor. I’m sitting in some small bar?—”
“I know exactly where that is. Stay put, Ariana.”
When the line goes dead, I pull the phone away from my ear feeling stunned. I’ve not only taken a chance by driving to Atlantic City, I’ve put myself out there by even calling Caesar like I have.
He had sounded so concerned I’d called. He assumed I was in trouble and then sounded even more shocked when I told him I was here.
But he’s coming down to get me. He sounded so certain, like there was no doubt in his mind. Does that mean he wants to see me as much as I’ve wanted to see him?
I clutch my wristlet and move toward the front of the bar where the open casino floor is. Hopefully, Caesar will enjoy seeing this dress on me.
He had once told me during a game of rummy that red was his favorite color. The scarlet fabric clings to every curve he said he loved.
