Page 3 of Wild Card (Advantage Play 1)

Rule #1: Keep your head down and your eyes up. It makes you invisible but not stupid.

It’s quiet at this time of night. I’d almost consider it peaceful if it weren’t for the homeless guy pretending to sleep on the sidewalk. I can feel him watching me as I take each purposeful step toward my destination. Or maybe I’m just paranoid because I’m carrying around fifteen hundred bucks in my worn, blue backpack, and I feel like every Tom, Dick, and Harry knows about it. Being a twenty-two-year-old female in this part of town always makes you feel like you have a target on your back, but being a twenty-two-year-old girl with a shit-ton of money? That brings on a whole other level of anxiety.

Which leads me to Rule #2: Always be aware of your surroundings. Hence why the creeper is giving me goosebumps.

I grip the nylon straps a little tighter before turning the corner and spotting my destination, Dottie’s.

“Finally,” I mumble under my breath.

Grasping the cold metal handle of the fifties-themed diner’s door, I swing it open and bask in the smell of bacon grease and burnt coffee.

“Hey, Dottie!” I greet the owner as she wipes down the chipped Formica countertop.

Her curly, red-dyed hair doesn’t move an inch as she lifts her chin in my direction. “Hey, doll! Let me finish cleanin’ up this mess, and I’ll be over in a minute.”

I make my way toward a corner booth that’s currently occupied by my best friend, Gigi.

“Man, I’m starving,” I announce as I approach. She grunts her reply while shoving another bite of pancakes into her mouth.

After I slide into my seat, I slip off my backpack then place it between my feet under the table.

Rule #7: Never leave something of value out in the open.

“Sorry ‘bout that, doll. What can I get ya?” Dottie asks in her thick Southern drawl.

I don’t bother opening my menu because I have the whole thing memorized, anyway. “Scrambled eggs. Extra crispy hashbrowns. And…” I tap my finger against my chin. “A side of sausage, please.”

Dottie doesn’t bother to write down my order, either, because I almost always ask for the same thing. “Comin’ right up.”

She turns on her heel to put my order in.

“Really? Scrambled eggs again? We’ve been meeting here for like three months, and you always order the same thing. Don’t you get sick of it?” Gigi’s brow is quirked from questioning.

“Meh. It’s all I ever ate as a kid, so I guess it kinda stuck. They’re cheap and were the only thing my mom could cook, which is ironic because she somehow found a way to screw those up too.”

“So how’d it go?” Gigi talks through her mouthful of food as she tilts her head toward my bag under the table. I scoot my feet together an extra couple of inches, making sure my black ankle boots are deliberately pinning the straps to the floor.

“Not too bad.”

Her lips tilt up in amusement. “Not too bad for you? Or not too bad for the average Joe?”

I snort before reaching for her cup of coffee and bringing it to my lips. After taking a sip of the lukewarm liquid, I set it back down in front of her. “Not too bad for me,” I clarify. “I’m getting close. Only a few more nights, and I’ll have enough for the buy-in.”

“Ah.” She leans back in her seat and folds her arms. “Then I see it was a relatively good night. Which place did you hit up?”

Shrugging, I lick my lips then casually toss a glance over my shoulder to make sure we’re alone. “The Charlette.”

A dry laugh escapes her as she shakes her head. “That’s perfect.”

The Charlette is a casino. One that I frequent often. For some reason, Gigi’s amusement is always amplified whenever I count cards there versus a few of the other locations I like to hit up. “I think you should try hitting up the Charlette more often. Just sayin’,” she adds with a grin.

“It isn’t safe to go to the same casino too often. You get flagged by the pit boss pretty damn quick when they notice you’re regularly leaving with a bagful of their money instead of empty-handed.”

“But you never get caught.”

“Rule #4: Never say never.” I rap my knuckles across the table––even though it isn’t wooden––as a silly superstition. But when your life could possibly be on the line, you don’t mess with jinxes. “The only reason I haven’t been caught yet is because I have a solid rotation, a foolproof game plan that helps me get by without any issues, and my rules.”

Gigi huffs a breath of laughter before probing, “Ah yes. How could I forget the rules? Where did you come up with those anyway?”

---