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Authors: Kimball Lee

BOOK: Love Deluxe
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We followed Nathan into the slot room and when I sat down at last night’s lucky machine Sam McKay sat at the machine to my right.

“Hey,” he said, with the most endearing grin, “we’re neighbors.”

Nathan hovered behind us and made sure the server brought my new friend a fresh drink and that I had champagne. My eyes searched Nathan’s face and I wondered if I was doing the right thing.

He said, “Well, it’s time I let you two get back to winning.”

I put in a thousand dollars and noticed that Sam McKay fed his machine several thousand. We played, hitting a little now and then, not talking much and before long I saw him put in another thousand.

“Yikes,” I said. “That is one hungry machine.”

“Yeah, but these are my favorites, it should come around in time. I hit one-twenty on one just like it in Biloxi last night.”

“One twenty?”

“Hundred twenty thousand,” he said, without a hint of awe. “It hit right away, too. But they’re fickle; it might take it all back tonight.”

I was glad I hadn’t told this beguiling man that my big win was twenty-seven thousand, surely that would have amused him. I started to say I would need the EMS if I won that much when his machine started to ring and the light on top began to blink. At the same time the bow tie on my
Top Dollar
machine appeared and then the first offer, immediately the top bill of twenty five thousand lit up.

I sat there unbelieving as the machine said, “Twenty five thousand dollars, times two!” and then “Fifty thousand dollars times two. One hundred thousand dollars! Boy you’re a winner!”

I tried to make sense of what I’d just heard; I turned to Sam McKay and said, “I need to accept the offer.”

“No, darlin’, that
is
the top dollar on this machine, it knows you’re going to take it.”

People were buzzing around and my head was swimming. I had no idea what to do so I turned back to McKay who was watching me.

“What did you win?” I asked, still stunned but what had happened.

“Eighty thousand, that’s a good hit, I’ll take it, and look at you, young lady. Good for you, we got ‘em running around like fire ants all of a sudden, I love it. Hey, are you alright?”

He motioned to a female slot host and told her she should to take me to the restroom or the lounge, that I might be in shock. I stood and my legs wobbled, he jumped up and slipped an arm around my waist to keep me from falling.

“Grab her purse,” he told the host as he walked me to the sofa in the lounge.

“We were just here,” I said.

“Yep,” he said, asking for water and a cold towel, fanning me with a magazine.

“One hundred and eighty thousand dollars ago we were sitting right here,” I mumbled.

He took the wet towel from the host and said to her, “Why don’t you take her shoes off and help her lie down?”

As my shoes were being removed, he stood back, big hands resting on his hips, looking concerned. I breathed deeply, drank water, said I was fine, not to worry, he dropped his hands, watched me for a minute then turned to go.

“Hey, McKay,” I called after him; he looked back. “Thanks, McKay.”

“Anytime, Cate,” and he smiled that luminous smile and gave me a thumbs up.

***

When things settled down, taxes were removed, winnings were collected gratuities given. I put the gaudy stacks of money along with the bundles from the lock box in my purse and Nathan suggested he have a guard walk me to my hotel room where I should secure all monies in the in room safe. If I wanted to return to the casino the guard would be happy to wait and bring me back. This I did and when I got back to the casino I went in search of my elusive husband. I found him at a different craps table and he didn’t look happy.

I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, “Hold on a minute,” he said and his voice cold. He pushed my arms away and I thought,
uh-oh, somebody’s not doing well
.

“I’m starving,” he said, “I’m cashing out and we’ll go eat.” He gathered his chips and we walked to the cashier’s cage. “Here, you wait for the money; I want to see if I can get a comp for a decent restaurant.”

I waited and John returned mumbling, “Assholes, they take your money then want you to eat in their bug infested food court.”

I stayed quiet as we walked outside and he hailed a cab, he told the driver
House of Blues
.

Once there, we looked for the private entrance to the
Foundation Room
, John flashed the comp slip and we stepped into an elevator. A blues singer crooned on stage and the sound was sad and sexy at once. We settled on a sofa in a Buddhist inspired alcove, a waiter appeared, John handed him the comp and asked for a double Crown Royal straight and a pack of Camels.

“John, what can I do?” I asked softly.

The waiter set the drink and the cigarettes down, John picked up the bourbon, drained the glass and said, “Keep ‘em coming.” He tore open the cigarettes.

“Please, tell me what to do,” I said.

“I don’t need any preaching tonight, I feel like shit,” he lit a cigarette, leaned back on the sofa and wouldn’t look at me.

His voice held a hint of a Kentucky drawl much like his father’s and it made my blood run cold. I was waiting for his bad mood to pass to surprise him with the news of my win, but I was thrown off by his tone, his eyes had gone dark, his body language seemed foreign. I moved closer to him, reached up and gently tugged on his hair. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back into my hand, his body loosened, he moved a hand to my leg, and said, “She’s so good to me,” and thank God, his voice sounded normal again. He said he’d lost a lot of money, nothing earth-shattering, really just gave back the money he won last night but he hated to lose and the pit boss was a jerk. He didn’t ask how I’d done.

 

Chapter Twelve

On the road the next day we crossed the Mississippi border and I told him about meeting Sam McKay.

“That old man better keep his hands off my sweetie,” he said and leaned over to brush his lips across mine.

“Oh, good Lord, he’s just a nice man. He lives in Destin, that’s only about twenty minutes from Seaside and what you’ll like best about him is his boat.”

“What kind of boat?” He asked, perking up.

“The best kind, a
big
boat.” I fumbled through my purse and handed him McKay’s card.

“That’s not a boat that’s a yacht! When can I can I meet him? Did you give him your number, are you gonna run off with this guy on his boat?”

“Don’t be silly,” I said and told him about McKay’s promise to call his casino host in Biloxi but I was pretty much casinoed out and maybe we’d stop another time.

“No, buddy, let’s stop. I love finding new casinos and we don’t want to hurt the man’s feelings. How far is it, when will be there?”

An hour later we pulled up in front of the
Beau Rivage
and Joh said, “This looks a lot like the
Bellagio
, I wonder if they’re owned by the same company.” He opened the back of the car and motioned for a bellman but I said let’s wait, have a look around, decide if we really wanted to stay.

Inside I spotted a set of glass doors with ‘VIP’ etched on them and I felt certain that was where I would find McKay’s casino host. When I mentioned Sam McKay to the woman at the desk, she said one moment, please, picked up the phone and immediately a man in a suit appeared.

“Cate Stuart, I’m Jason Catz. Sam told me I might expect you. I’m so pleased you could join us here at the
Beau
. Come on into my office and let me get you some room keys.”

I glanced at John and could tell he was loving this. When we settled into Sam McKay’s regular suite on the highest floor, I walked to a wall of glass in the living room and looked out over the Gulf of Mexico. An oil tanker floated far off on the horizon getting smaller and smaller as it moved out to sea.
Daddy would love this
, the thought popped into my head, he loved the Gulf, took me ‘bay fishing’ as he called it when I was growing up and Brooks as well, all his life. The two were planning a trip before… I caught myself and pushed the memory far away.

John explored the rooms and returned with a whoop.

“Can you believe this place? It’s huge,” he said, “and we don’t even know this guy! He must have serious money; they only give suites like this to whales.”

“Whales?”

“High rollers, big money gamblers, old Sam must be loaded. What kind of business is he in?”

“Oh, I don’t know, restaurants I think he said. Nice, nice man, I can’t believe he had them put us in this suite, I didn’t even expect a free room.”

John put his arms around me, held me tight, “Just think, we haven’t paid for anything except gas this entire trip, we’ve made some money, had food and perks, how can you beat this life?”

“It’s fun, but not forever,” I said. “What goes up must come down, you know? These luxurious hotels weren’t built on people winning.”

“I won you.” He said, his eyes were smoky, he needed a shave, the pale stubble on his chin was rough against my neck. He slipped his hands inside the back of my baggy jeans, cupping my butt. “Mmmm, no panties, huh? God, you feel good, I need you so much.” He moved a hand to the front of my jeans, unfastened them and let them fall, his fingers slipped between my legs moving, teasing.

“We can’t yet,” I said and leaned into him, aching to have him inside me as his big fingers moved expertly. “Please!” I moaned, pulling his head down and kissing him.

“Look,” he whispered, turning me away from him so that I faced the window. He stood behind me and as the sky darkened over the Gulf our reflections were caught perfectly in the glass. He put his hand between my legs again, moving his fingers slowly then pushed one inside me.

I tried to look away from my wild eyed image but he held my face with his free hand and said, “Watch!” He brushed my hair aside, held his cheek against mine, whispered so softly I could barely hear him, “Touch me, baby.”

I moved my hand behind me, slipped it inside his pants, he was so hard I could feel the blood pumping like a pulse. Our eyes met in the mirror of the glass, we looked savage, ferocious and feral in our need. Our hands moved to the same rhythm until a spasm rocked me. I leaned forward, one hand on the window as I gasped and then cried out and my hand on him was suddenly wet as he slumped against me.

Downstairs we signed up for the players club and they told John he was already a member. The casino was in fact owned by the
Bellagio
which made him very happy.

“How far is this place from the beach house?”

“About three hours,” I said.

“Great, we can make that drive anytime.”

I walked with him to the craps table and he said, “Stay with me, buddy, watch me play.”

I told him to play with himself, which made us both laugh, and I warned him to not go too crazy, the idea was to leave with some money. In the room I’d given him the forty thousand from the chips he asked me to change at
Harrah’s
, but I didn’t tell him about the hundred thousand plus stashed in my suitcase. I wanted to tell him several times but his obsession with gambling was worrisome, I was afraid if he knew about the money he would want to go wild. The gambling had been exciting but I was ready for the beach, I wanted to be on the road first thing in the morning.

I checked out the high limit slot room, it was a little more low-key; two hosts behind a desk smiled but didn’t rush to greet me.
Alright
, I thought,
I’m on my own; let’s see what I can do.
Even though I had more than a hundred and thirty thousand cash upstairs that I didn’t have two days ago, I was cautious. I couldn’t say absolutely that Nathan guided me in my wins but I believed he did. That thought made me nervous as hell, maybe I couldn’t do it by myself, I’d lose all the money and then spend every dime I had “chasing the thrill” as McKay had said.

I ordered a vodka martini in the lounge, trying to get my courage up to go it alone. I took a few sips and that quick I felt my muscles loosen and my courage build. I carried the drink with me and settled in front of a ten dollar machine, good old
Top Dollar
but a new denomination, I giggled, the vodka is doing its job. I fed it five hundred dollars and started to play, the bow tie wouldn’t stop where it should so I motioned to the cocktail server and asked for water. I decided to slow down with the button pushing, go slower and think about what I was doing.

Slot machines are random number generators, I read that somewhere, so I’d give it time to run through some bad numbers. The server handed me the water and a napkin, I tipped her, took a drink and hit max bet. Like magic the bow tie appeared, the first two offers were low and I recalled Henry telling me long ago that some machines were tight. The third offer was three thousand five hundred and I quickly accepted it.

I stayed on the same machine for probably two hours, my credits moving up and down, never getting higher than ten thousand or below three thousand. I enjoyed myself but without the mind blowing wins it felt a little like work. I cashed out with forty five hundred knowing that was the exact amount it would take to buy the
Chanel
purse I had my eye on. I checked on my husband, he was happy and had lots of chips lined up in front of him, I told him I was going to bed. He protested for a minute, wanted me to stay with him, then hit a winning streak and was distracted. I stopped in the gift shop on my way upstairs and bought every book they had on gambling.

In the suite, the beds had been turned down and plates of oatmeal cookies sat on the bedside tables. There were baskets in the bathrooms each with a bath pillow, sponges, lotions, potions and magazines. On the dining table sat a tray with assorted finger sandwiches, pate’ with crackers and chocolate covered strawberries. There was a bottle of wine on ice and two glasses by the living room window.
Yes
, I thought,
this is quite the life
. I skipped the wine, took a Motrin for my martini headache, grabbed a bottle of water and the entire plate of strawberries and filled the oversized bath tub with water and scented oil. I shed my clothes and climbed in with a giant strawberry in one hand and one of the books on gambling in the other. The book was enlightening; full of tips, secrets, advice, and superstitions, some ridiculous others, perhaps somewhat valid. I read and read, added hot water to the bath as it cooled and managed to eat a half dozen strawberries dripping in chocolate.

I crawled into bed later, naked and content, wondered how long it had been since I’d needed a sleeping pill, not in a while,
Amen.
Sometime in the night I was sure I heard Henry whisper in my ear, twining his legs with mine in sleep.
God, I’d missed him so much!

I turned toward him smiling, “Where have you been for so long, my love?”

It was John who found my mouth in the darkness, scattering that memory into the night. He kissed me and whispered tenderly, “Catey, Catey. Oh, how I love my girl.”

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