Break My Fall (No Limits) (10 page)

Walking out onto the casino floor was an experience in sensory overload. The lights from hundreds of gambling machines provided more illumination than the lights in the ceiling. This was the most crowded area of the casino, with each machine occupied by someone sitting on a stool, pumping tokens in, hoping more would come out. Video slot machines, video poker, video
everything
—instant lotteries, or so people hoped. There was a chance the lights or the colorful displays attracted players, but the real lure was the hope that they would experience uncommon luck and get rich. The vast majority of them, Drew pointed out, would leave in a far more sullen mood than when they arrived.

M
usic played throughout the room, not loud enough to drown out talking, but just enough to add to the atmosphere.

Some people were in shorts and t-shirts while others wore tuxedoes and evening gowns, as if a post-Oscar party collided with a group of tailgating football fans.

Taking in the sights and sounds intensified the racing thoughts I was having about Drew. He gambled for a living? Yeah, he said it wasn’t gambling when you don’t lose, and he said he doesn’t lose, but…what had I gotten myself into?

It was a good thing he warned me not to ask questions while he played blackjack. I’ll be honest—I had no idea what was going on. I had never played the game before, but I got the feeling that even if I had, I still wouldn’t have been able to keep up.

I stood behind Drew, looking over his shoulder. He would sometimes bet the minimum and other times bet a huge amount. I tried to detect some kind of pattern that would reveal why he switched back and forth like that, even before knowing what cards he was going to get, but I couldn’t figure it out. I like to think of myself as a fairly smart person who enjoys a challenge, and this was certainly one of the more interesting ones.

Early on, Drew won more hands than he lost, but not by much. I noticed the other players at the table were having about the same amount of luck. But it wasn’t long before Drew started winning far more than he lost, both in terms of the hands and the money—he’d increased his bets by this point, and with each win, he raked higher stacks of chips into his collection. Meanwhile, the other players were still trading winning hands with losing ones, having nowhere near the luck that Drew was having.

Or maybe it wasn’t luck. Maybe he was just that good.

At one point when he had almost doubled his amount of chips, he handed a few over to me and told me to take a seat at the spot next to him.

I shook my head. “I’ll probably lose your money.”

He smiled and
shrugged a little as if to say:
So what?

The dealer put the cards down and I did my best to figure out if I should take another
card or stay with what I had. Drew and I had different cards, but they added up to the same total number. Drew was staying with his. I did the same. The house busted, and we both won. My first hand at blackjack and I was a winner.

Drew and I didn’t draw the same numbers after that, so I had to rely on that crash course in blackjack he’d given me in the hallway earlier. Soon, I had lost all my chips
and found myself once again standing behind Drew and watching the game over his shoulder.

One other guy sat at the end of the blackjack table for most of the time we were there. Other than that, people came and went, most of them giving up after losing a couple of hands.

The more Drew won, the more I noticed a guy hanging around just behind the dealer. The man wore a blue blazer and had an earpiece in his right ear. It was white, as was the coiled wire that ran from the earpiece down the back of his neck and into the collar of his shirt. I figured he must be security. Maybe he was watching over the big winners. I didn’t have much experience with casinos so I couldn’t be sure. I did notice that Drew never seemed to look in the guy’s direction, though.

His stacks of chips grew taller
, and about four hours into it he asked me if I’d seen enough.

“I think so, but do you want to stop? You’re on a roll.”

“We’ll roll again tomorrow.” He turned to the dealer. “Color me up. Thanks.”

Drew stood and I said, “
What does color me up mean?”

“The dealer
’s going to change all my smaller denominations into larger ones. Just easier to carry around that way.”

“Oh, yeah, it’d be a shame to carry around that much. Showoff.”

Drew smiled down at me, put his arm around my back and pulled me close to him, forcing our bodies to press firmly together. “Smartass.” He kissed me on the lips quickly, then turned back to the table to gather his winnings.

.  .  .  .  .

When we got back to the suite, I brushed my teeth and washed my face, then collapsed on the bed without pulling back the covers. I couldn’t think of a time I’d been quite that exhausted.

Drew was in the bathroom for a few minutes after me. I had almost fallen asleep, but was stirred back awake when he opened the door.

“Hey.” My voice came out weak and almost hoarse. “Come here.”

Drew walked over to the bed and sat down beside me. “You need me to tuck you in?”

I let out a weak laugh. “No. I want something else.”

“Whoa, slow down, sweetheart. I’m saving myself for marriage.”

Another soft laugh escaped from my mouth. I was lying on my back, splayed out on the bed as though I had no muscle control. My east coast internal clock was at eight a.m., which meant I’d been awake nearly twenty-four hours, and that had involved a full workday, a flight almost all the way across the country, and an entire night in a casino. Drew appeared tired as well, but not as much as me. Probably due to the fact that he did this often and was more accustomed to it.

“Can you be serious for a minute?”
I asked.

“Sure.”

I rolled over onto my side, pulling myself almost into the fetal position. I looked up at Drew. He reached for the lamp and turned it off, leaving the room illuminated only by the lights of Las Vegas beaming in through the window.

“How do you win so much?”

He hesitated before answering. “It’s a long story. How about I tell you in the morning.”

“It is morning.”

Half of his face was visible thanks to the light from outside, the other half in shadow. I saw the corner of his mouth twist into a small smile. “Okay, how about I tell you in the afternoon?”

“Fine. I probably won’t be able to process it right now, anyway.
What are we doing tomorrow? Or later today, I mean. Whatever. Will you teach me how to play blackjack?”

“Maybe. But
there’s all kinds of time for that. While we’re here, we can do anything you want.”

“Anything, huh?”

I felt his weight shift off the bed. I closed my eyes. I figured he had stood up and was on his way out to the couch.

“Anything,” he said. “We’re in Vegas. And what happens in Vegas
…”

“Stays in Vegas.” I managed to finish the line before drifting off to sleep.

Chapter Ten

I woke up to the pungent smell of coffee. I opened my eyes to find Drew sitting on the
edge of the bed.

I stretched and groaned. “What time is it?”

“Almost one. In the afternoon, by the way.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out from the sunlight.”
Then an odd thought came to me. “What do you do with Cliff when you’re traveling? Leave him with your grandparents?”

“
No. Grandma has enough to worry about without Cliff being there. There’s a retired couple living on the boat next to me. They look after him.”

I managed to get my eyes to focus. Based on how he looked, I could tell he had already showered. His hair
was still damp, he had shaved, and he was wearing gray slacks and a white button-down shirt that was tucked in.

“Are you going to a business meeting?”

He laughed. “No. This is what I brought to wear today. Sometimes I class it up a little when I’m here.”

He was obviously being sarcastic, but he did look nice.

“Coffee?” He held out a cup toward me.

I reached for it. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. If you drink real coffee, you’ll be disappointed. All they had was decapitated.”

While I had managed to get my eyes to focus, the last thing he said made me wonder if my ears weren’t working properly. “Say that again?”

“Decapitated. And yes, I know it’s decaffeinated, but that’s what I call it.”

I sat up. “Of course you would.”

I was still on top of the comforter, and still in the same clothes I’d worn all day yesterday and last night. I felt gross.

“I need to get a shower.
” I sipped the coffee. “And by the way, I didn’t bring anything that matches your so-called classy outfit.”

“Not a problem,” he said, getting up to leave the room. “
We’ll take care of that. I’ll be in the living room when you’re ready.” He walked out, closing the door behind him.

The
living room.
This was the first time I had ever stayed in a hotel suite before, and as I thought about it, I realized it was bigger and nicer than my apartment. So was the bathroom, in fact, and I spent quite a while in there savoring the large bathtub with water jets.

Thirty minutes later, I was feeling completely refreshed and awake.
I dressed in the clothes that I told him didn’t live up to his, and when I came out of the bedroom that was the first thing he mentioned.

“I love those shorts but I’d rather be the only person in Vegas who knows what your ass looks like.”

“They’re not that short.” I pulled at them a little. “They’re just tight.”

He stood and walked to me. “If you’re trying to tease me, it’s working. But we have to focus. At least until we get back here.”

We went downstairs and grabbed a quick bite in the restaurant, then it was on to a shop on the first floor of the hotel and I was trying on dresses. I found what I considered to be a rather typical little black dress, but when Drew saw me in it, he insisted that I get it. I also picked out some matching shoes. We had a minor disagreement over who was paying, and he ended up insisting upon that, too.

We went back up to the suite. I needed to change, and Drew had promised me he would explain more about how he wins at blackjack.

We sat in the living room as I cut the tags off the new dress and tried on the new shoes. I was in a chair and Drew sat on the couch. He placed a deck of cards on the coffee table between us.

“
Now let me show you how I play, which is not at all how the casino wants you to play.”

I had moved to the floor by this point. I was still sitting across from him, but I was eye-level with the table now. I lo
oked up at him. “This is why you told me not to ask you anything at the blackjack table last night, I guess? Your big secret? This is where I find out you’re a math genius or something.”

“Not exactly,” he said, shuffling the deck. “I count cards.”

I didn’t say anything. I’d heard the term “card-counter” before but I had never looked into exactly what it meant. I just assumed it had something to do with knowing which cards were going to be dealt. “So you’re cheating.”

“No, not a
t all. The casinos like to say it is, but it isn’t. There’s gambling, which is betting on which cards you’re going to get. Then there’s card counting, which involves keeping track of which cards have been dealt and which ones are more likely to be dealt in the next few rounds. It’s a way of taking the house’s edge away.”

“Sounds like cheating to me. Is this even legal?”

“It’s not illegal. The casinos frown upon it. Actually, they more than frown upon it. People have been known to get beat up by security goons, some even killed, but that was mostly in the distant past.”

“
Mostly
? So it still goes on?”

“There are rumors…”

I thought about the guy with the earpiece from last night. “So that guy who was hanging around the table when you were playing…he was security?”

“
Sort of. He was a pit boss.”

“W
hy didn’t he bust you?”

Drew gathered the cards that were strewn all over the table,
then shuffled them. “I guess he didn’t see enough that warranted it. Which is good because it’s not just him watching. There are cameras everywhere, watching everything. They’re called ‘The Eyes in the Sky.’”

“
Why isn’t it illegal?”

Drew got up and went to the refrigerator. He opened the door,
looked inside and as he searched for something to drink, he explained: “As long as you’re not using any kind of device to do it, you’re not breaking the law. I’m not using any kind of counting device. I’m just using my brain. And despite how it may seem when you’re among the general public, it’s not illegal to use your brain. Want something out of the fridge?”

“What
are my choices?”

He looked back over to where I was. “J
ust about everything you can think of.”

“Some kind of soda. Anything. It doesn’t matter. I just want to know more about this.
”

Drew opened our drinks and handed me one.

Some girls got involved with bad-boy musicians. Others found themselves with bad-boy athletes, fighters, or biker types. Here I was with a bad-boy card player—who knew there was such a thing?—and he was taking Vegas for thousands at a pop. All of it legally.

It was changing how I saw him. It wasn’t the money, it was the confidence, the attitude, the swagger, I guess, that was making him sexier.

I could have easily gotten lost in those thoughts as he explained his system to me, but I made myself focus, mostly by asking questions. “So you’re not memorizing the deck.”

“No way, that’d be impossible. I’m not Rain Man
, Leah.”

“You know, I just saw that movie so you’re lucky I got the reference.”

He shuffled the deck and continued. “So there’s no memorizing. You count as the cards are dealt and you only have to keep track of one number. High cards are minus one, low cards are plus one. Two through six are low cards. Tens, Jacks, Queens, Kings and Aces are high cards. Sevens, eights and nines are zero. So you’re adding or subtracting with each card. You watch every card, but you’re not playing against the other players, only against the dealer, or the house. As the game goes on, you only have one number in your mind. The higher the number, the more advantage you have. That’s called a hot deck. The lower the number, the more advantage the dealer has, and that’s called…” He looked at me to see if I was following.

“
A cold deck.”

He sipped his drink.
“Just making sure you’re paying attention. Okay, so if I put these cards down…”

He went on for a little while, showing me how to track the number as the cards came out and we got deeper into the deck. The deeper you got, the
more you know if you’re likely to get a high or low card, so you know whether to take another card or stay with what you have.

“And that’s how I do it,” he said, stretching his arms over his hea
d and leaning back on the couch, comfortably reclined, both feet on the floor still but he sunk into the cushions so much he was almost lying down. I wanted to hop over the table and sit on his lap. But I didn’t.

I
debated whether I should ask the question that was screaming to get out, and ended up giving in to the burning curiosity. “Are you rich?”

He laughed and shook his head. “
No. Well, not by how I define it, anyway. If you’re asking whether I have millions, the answer is no. I don’t have anywhere close to that. I don’t like to take too much at any one time. Just enough to live off of, a little extra for things I want, and a little more to put away in savings. I’m always tempted to go to one of the no limit tables, though, and bet a huge amount on a single hand. Maybe someday.”

“Never been caught?”

“Nope. Every time I come here, I go to a different casino. But I hear they’re sharing data now about regular winners, and they might already be doing it. Things might get complicated soon. Come here.”

I stood and walked over to him. I went to sit beside him, but he pulled me onto his lap and I found myself straddling him.

Drew wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in close. Our faces were millimeters apart and I could feel his warm breath on my lips.

“You’re the only other person who knows what I do.
Aside from my grandparents. My grandfather taught me all about card counting.” He smiled at the memory. “I remember being maybe eight or nine years old, something like that, and we would sit across from each other at the table. He’d deal out cards, and no matter which ones I got he would make a big production out of me having the winning hand. Just having fun, you know? But I wasn’t winning. We weren’t even playing a real game. It was just fun holding the cards. He started teaching me about card counting when I was sixteen, almost seventeen.”

“What did your parents say?”

Drew sighed. “They didn’t like it, but it wasn’t a big deal. Then the plane crash happened. Mom and Dad didn’t support my decision to leave school, Grandma and Grandpa did. In some ways, they’re more like parents to me than my parents are.”

There was no sadness in his voice, despite the obvious family turmoil he’d experienced. True to the philosophy he lived by, Drew accepted it and was going on with his life.

“Do you talk to your parents much?”

“Birthdays.
Christmas. Not much.” He shifted awkwardly in his seat, the first sign I’d seen him give off that indicated a measure of being uncomfortable talking about something. “Apparently they’re waiting for me to get over this phase I’m in.”

“They think it’s just a phase?
”

He nodded. “But enough about that. Like I said,
I’ve never told anyone else about the counting. I like my privacy and I like being able to do what I want, when I want, without having to check in with anyone. That’s the kind of freedom I wanted after the crash, when my life changed. But I wanted you to know this, to
see
this, because I think my life is changing again.”

He stopped there. It wasn’t exactly vague, but it wasn’t all that blunt, either.
Was I changing his life or was I just along for the ride? Either way, a rush of emotion swept through me and I couldn’t hold back. I pressed my lips to his. He raised a hand to the side of my head, holding it gently, as our kiss became more uninhibited than our previous ones. I shifted on his lap, feeling him getting turned on.

Drew’s hand slid down my neck to my chest, his palm resting on my breast. I wanted to feel his hand on my skin, not throu
gh this shirt. At least I thought I did.

He lowered his hand more, dipping his fingers under the hem of the shirt, and then underneath. I felt his strong hand spread wide across my stomach and my muscles contracted in response to his touch.

I didn’t want this to stop, but I was thrown off by invading thoughts of Kevin and the pictures—my naked body exposed for all to see.

It had taken me a while to feel c
omfortable even wearing a one-piece bathing suit on the beach, but I eventually figured, the hell with that, this is where I love to be and where I can be me, so I’m going to be me.

Straddling Drew’s lap, kissing him, with the situation progressing as it was, I found myself getting nervous. This
was the closest I’d come to potentially exposing any part of my body in an intimate way since the pictures came out. Was I really ready for this? Ready for Drew to take off my shirt and bra? Ready to have him see me topless?

Goddam Kevin
and the damage he had done to my psyche.

Drew’s hand slipped out from under my shirt, away from my skin, then rested on my thigh.

“I think you should put on your new dress and we should go make some money.”

He lifted me off his lap and onto the couch next to him.