Odds and Evens

[st_clare]

The tiny white ball on the roulette wheel bounced as it spun, and the small crowd around the table held their collective breath as it gradually slowed down. Stacks of chips had been placed on green felt, waiting to either be lost to the house or scooped back into the possession of their bettors. In Las Vegas, the casino business was booming.

Julianna had been telling Devin the truth. She didn't usually gamble, and she didn't really approve of the people who frequented such establishments. But she was so frustrated after the incident with Holiday that she'd purposely bought a few hundred dollars worth of chips to spend an evening at the tables. A gimlet sat near her left hand. She was not drunk, just slightly tipsy.

"Black 24. Black 24. The house wins."

The Watcher sampled her drink, watched the croupier collect the bets that had been placed as a mutter rose above the table. She should quit while she hadn't lost much, cut her losses. Not just with money, but with people as well. If the girl was determined to destroy herself, she couldn't stop her. She had quite enough guilt on her conscience, and Gregory's memory aside she didn't owe Holiday anything.

"Place your bets, please, the next spin is coming up."

Julianna placed some chips on Red 18, looked around for a server to get a refill. There were no bloody clocks in this place, and she'd left her watch on her bedside table. Never mind the time. She could leave once she'd lost the last of her chips.

Comments

[daniel_stacy]

“Perpetually,” he said.

The odds might be bad, but Daniel liked cards. There was camaraderie in it and the game gave him a chance to sit down with a bunch of guys and blend: human or vampire, it didn’t matter if you slapped money on the table. He was goddamned awful at reading other players – even worse at cultivating his own poker face. His wins stayed small because he was the self-satisfied schmuck chuckling when he got dealt a good hand.
He looked at the woman, who he guessed to be a retiree blowing some savings bonds. Daniel knew she was old money because he came from old money. The eau de toilette, the tailored blouse, the jewelry (understated but expensive). “I’m what you might call a free-loader’,” he said. The women in his family hated free-loaders more than they hated immigrants and that was saying a lot. He let himself slide into old habits; he said whatever he thought might get a rise out of the dreaded trio: Mother, Aunt, Grandmother.

“I’m between jobs right now. Can’t seem to find anything that,” he put a hand to his chest, “lets me be me. I’ve been thinking maybe golf caddy? Valet? Nah, too much sun damage. Gotta keep my youthful complexion. “ He smiled, a pleased man-child, from all indications.

[st_clare]

If she'd been sober, it probably would have annoyed her, but she was just tipsy enough to not take offense. She needed less aggravation, not more. The croupier asked for bets to be placed, and she put down some chips without really glancing at the number or the color.

"I'd have said gigolo, but you're not oily enough for that." The vodka had loosened Julianna's tongue, broken down some of her English reserve, and she studied the bottle of beer in his hand. Domestic, not imported. College student on a lark?

"I take it this is not your regular haunt?"

[daniel_stacy]

Gigolo? Was his roommate wearing off on him? He snorted pleasantly and let it go. If a woman thought him attractive enough to launch a career in male escorting, he wasn’t going to get his boxers in a knot. He briefly considered what it would be like, forging a long-term relationship with a woman in exchange for cash when he was a good boy. It was a little too reminiscent of lining up for an allowance with his palms out. ’Please, ma’am, may I have some more?’

He put his money on Red 34.

“You’re very perceptive,” he said, tipping the bottle to her. “Thought I’d try something new. You a tourist?” He shook his head and leaned his forearms on the table. “Not that it’s a bad thing. Seems like nobody's really from Las Vegas. You aren’t, not with that accent. You in town for a few days or planning on staying?”

A casino manager leaned over the croupier and whispered something. Daniel was watchful. The man had a hell of a carotid artery. The thing bulged. That kind of thing used to gross him out, especially when guys lifted weights at the gym. Now it was awesome.

[st_clare]

"I just signed a lease on an apartment."

The ink was barely dry on the rental agreement, in fact, and she was relieved to not have to subject herself to hotel living for much longer. Hotels were for vacations and trips for work, not permanent addresses. Besides, she wanted to send for some of her books, and she couldn't do that without a real home.

"I'm a professor at UNLV," she said, waving in the general direction of the college with the drink in her hand. "Just came to terms on that not too long ago. It was the reason I made the trip across the pond."

[daniel_stacy]

“Oh yeah? No shit.” He was impressed. “It may surprise you to know that I’ve attempted one-hundred and forty-two college credits. Not a degree in sight. I tried, ‘s gotta be worth something.” He raised a fist halfheartedly and added, “Go Pikes.” The vampire’s eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled.

He heard the call of ‘Red 32’ and threw his hands in the air. “Ohhhh! Close but no cigar.” Daniel shifted on his stool and twisted his tennis shoes into the rungs. One of his feet twitched rhythmically. The population around the table was shifting as people came and went. What he needed, Daniel thought, was a good luck charm. Silver over here wasn’t doing the trick.

[st_clare]

"I thought you looked old enough to have been at university," Julianna said with an answering smile. "What did you attempt to major in, or were there several changes in plans? It sounds as if you were a bit of a professional student."

Her winnings dwindled a bit more as she placed a bet, and she idly tried to decide what his name might be. Something modern, probably.This must have been his stag night. She could relate to that.

"The trick is, only bring to the table what you can afford to lose. I only brought a small amount of cash tonight. It staves off the urge to take foolish risks."

[daniel_stacy]

“Hm. That’s a shame,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “I like a gal who takes risks.” The vampire leaned back and swigged his beer. His Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down as the bitter liquid washed down his throat. Once it was empty, Daniel set it on the felt cover of the table with a thump. “I was a comm major,” he said. “Eighty percent of communication is nonverbal, orange makes you hungry, and if a woman touches her neck when we’re talking, I should stop what I’m doing and give her my number immediately. I quit paying attention after the neck part.”

He sifted through his small pillar of chips, plunking each one onto the next. “You’re not a comm professor, are you?”

[st_clare]

"Linguistics, actually."

It wasn't that she didn't have her adventurous side, but she usually saved it for her personal life. She'd never taken a professional risk in her life, had always obeyed the rules and followed protocol. Had he meant to sound so...

Hmm.

The casino manager came back and murmured something in the croupier's ear, and the white-shirted employee left his station and was soon replaced by a brunette in her mid-thirties. The luck of the wheel was about to change, and it made Julianna considered gathering up her chips and moving to a different table. She was a decent poker player if nothing spectacular.

"And I suppose it depends on the sort of risk you're talking about," she added, putting the previous idea aside for the moment. "Hang gliding? Para-sailing? Deep sea diving?"