Page 1 of Big Filthy Mobster

Chapter One

Patrick

Does everybody hate their fucking job?

With a sigh that feels older than me, I push through the casino doors, the neon sign casting its blue-and-red glow across the room like an old friend I’m long tired of. This place has become more familiar than my own home, a backdrop of cigarette smoke, blinking lights, and the steady hum of broken dreams—all the things you’d expect in a place run by the mob for the sole purpose of washing money.

Sidestepping a particularly gnarly-looking stain, I make a mental note to tell Maxwell his staff is slacking while he’s gone. He should be back the day after tomorrow from his honeymoon. I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes at the thought. It’s been two years, and I’m still trying to adjust to the fact that that bastard is with my daughter. He’s lucky he’s my oldest friend. Even luckier that a blind man could see he worships the ground that girl walks on, which is everything she deserves.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I scan the room with an easy smile that I’ve worn down to muscle memory. I look like I’msurveying my choices, like I’m a man with endless options. Truth is, I know exactly where I’m going. Same blackjack table, every time. Have to keep up with where the money goes and comes from, even in the mafia.

When I reach my table, I pause. My regular dealer is off work today, but that’s not what pulls me up short. It’s the woman in front of me. An elegant little thing with short, curly brown hair and deep eyes to match. Pouty lips and a button nose—she’s beautiful, but I’ve seen my share of beautiful women. Still, when she makes eye contact with me, flashing those warm brown eyes in my direction, a thrill runs through me that I can’t explain.

She nods when I stop, signaling that I’ll join in the next round. As I wait, I watch her deft, well-manicured hands flipping cards. It doesn’t take long, and after the round finishes and the winner gets paid out, I’m dealt in. I play a round, but I don’t win. The gorgeous girl in front of me is a balm to my poor luck, though, and I decide I’ll stick around for a while, even if I don’t win anything. I’m not exactly hard up for money.

“There we go,” I murmur under my breath when I win the next round.

Across from me, the edge of her mouth lifts. “Very nice,” she remarks.

“I like to think I’m good at this game.” I glance at her nametag. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before, Holly.”

“I’m still pretty new,” she replies, dealing another hand. “But this isn’t my first time as a dealer.”

“I figured,” I note, looking at her card before tapping the table to indicate I want another. “So, where’d you work before?”

“Atlantic City,” she answers, placing cards in front of everyone.

The man beside me grumbles, eyeing his hand as he decides his next move. Ignoring him, I tap the table again. Normally I enjoy having others at the table, but today, I find myself wishing it were just me and Holly.

“Atlantic City, huh? You’re from New Jersey, then?”

“New York, actually.” Her hands move smoothly, the dark red nail polish catching the bright casino lights.

“No kidding?” I chuckle.

She rolls her eyes, a smirk tugging at her perfect mouth. “No, I’m pulling your leg.”

“Stop messing with him,” a woman at the end of the table calls out with a laugh.

I raise an eyebrow at Holly, feigning hurt as I refuse another card. “Trying to mess with me, huh?” I chuckle. “That’s exactly what I’d expect from a New York girl.”

“Know something about the city?” Holly’s focus is entirely on the cards she’s laying down.

“You could say that.” I wince as her cards trump all of ours—a blackjack.

“Spend a lot of time there?” she asks, clearing the table before shuffling.

“I spent the first twenty years of my life in New York,” I tell her coolly. “I miss it sometimes, but Cherrywood Village is nice.”

“It’s quiet,” she replies, waving as the woman at the end of the table gets up and leaves. “Definitely the kind of place for settling down and raising a family.”

“That’s what I did.”

“Oh, so you’re a family man?” Her tone dips slightly, with just a hint of disappointment.

“I used to be.” I glance at the card she lays in front of me. “It was just me and my daughter for a long time, but she’s all grown up now.”

I keep quiet about my deceased wife. I’m enjoying talking with Holly, and I don’t want to dampen the mood. I’d like to get close enough to her to have that conversation and learn about her past. But for now, I’d rather keep things light.

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