Bluffing the Devil(3)
The machines, dealers, players, and elegant beauty of the room was a comforting sight even though I had been to Atlantic City often for various tournaments, it was always like I was seeing it for the first time. Any decent poker player worth their salt had to play at least a few times a week, to keep their game in check. While I did tend to play a lot of online poker while at home, Atlantic City was my chosen stomping ground for live games, as it was the closest casino-town to my dreary Red Bank, New Jersey dwelling. I would come at least once a month to practice against fish that came to the city to get away for a weekend, and throw away their paychecks. Fools. Fake poker pros with their adorable attempts at bluffing the Queen. Why didn't they ever learn that if I was playing the hand, I was going to win it? Okay, that might not be completely accurate at this particular moment in time, but I am getting there! I have the skill and confidence, and I am learning more every day. Also, just because I am a woman, they continued to underestimate me. All of that would change this year. I had a plan!
My musings about the beauty before me, and idiots with their pathetic attempts at righteousness were suddenly stopped short by an almost imperceptible atmosphere change. After just a few months and a little practice, I could feel him when he entered the room. Even across a crowded casino floor his essence filled the space like the dark under your bed seems to go on forever. Rey. Fantastic. As if my day wasn't off-kilter enough? Thank you, Poker Gods for the immense luck in company today. Truly, I owe you one!
He slithered his way across the casino floor and instantly his predacious gaze locked onto me. In a spontaneous act of avoidance, I burrowed into the crowd a bit deeper and tunneled my way through the unsuspecting human-shields and headed toward the mock-safety of the elevators. Not that I am afraid of him, far from it, I just cant stand cocky bastards that think they are God's gift to the game. Especially when it's obvious that the only reason he chats me up so often, is he is trying to learn my strategy. He wants to make a place for himself as poker royalty. Not on my watch, chump, but wait, I am not prey in this situation! I am never going to be someone's doormat, or stepping stone ever again! Resolve hit me suddenly and I pivoted on my heel quickly, nearly slamming into his eye-level chest. Man, he was fast! And tall, geez. When did he get so tall? How had I never noticed that before? Ahh yes, always sitting at a poker table and only having to deal with his consuming gazes. This was a new level of freak-out.
"Is there something I can help you with, Rey?" I said as I craned my neck to see the tower of man before me, "Or were you on a mad dash to bilk someone of their lifesavings, or maybe rob some unsuspecting college girl of her panties and possible virtue tonight?"
"You wound me, truffle." He drawled with his gorgeous Latin accented "r".
Seriously? What is up with everyone and their nicknames for me lately?
"I decided at the last moment to switch to this hotel so I could be away from the action over at Caesar's and as I was registering, I couldn’t miss your glorious essence calling to me from the crowd."
As if I was "calling" to him? Pssh. As if!
"I just had to come speak to you and make sure you’re doing well. Are you busy? You seemed in a hurry."
Rey could fool most people into thinking he was innocent or sweet or whatever façade he wanted to wear today, but I know poker players, and I know men. He was not fooling me one bit. He always stayed at Caesar's, which was one of the most important reasons I never did. Had he followed me? There would be no point in that. I have to stop being so paranoid.
"I was in a hurry yes, I.. uh.. have a date." It was sort of the truth. I was planning on going to my room for a nap before the tournament, and was also praying that I would have a few moments with my Dream Guy. That always settled my nerves, and gave me a little something extra to smile about.
A flash of something crossed Rey's face. Amazingly, I couldn't decipher if it was anger, confusion, or some other emotion. Even though I have been training to read people's faces, actions, words, and other characteristics for years now, he somehow managed to show an emotion I hadn't seen before. Weird. Well-played, sir. Game on.
"Perhaps another time you can grace me with your fantastic company for a drink or maybe some dessert? Coffee? Wine? Tiramisu? Whatever you like." Rey said, attempting to sound nonchalant, but I could easily pick up the near-desperate tone begging for my compliance.
"Well, while your invitation for 'dessert' sounds delicious, I'm watching my weight these days, I don't like coffee, and I'm not a drinker. I am quite busy and don't know when I would have time for you. Thank you for the offer. I'm running late and must go." I tried to race through my apology and rejection quickly and then dash off, but Rey, being the sneaky bastard he is was ready for that and tugged my elbow as I turned to leave.
"Perhaps I can join you on your next morning run?"
Internal panic mode activated! He knows I run in the mornings? Does he also know I take Krav Maga? I might not be a Sayeret, but I knew that class would come in handy someday. Ha! Wouldn't you know that my mom always had to be right? "You must be ready for anything, Alexia. You never know who is creeping in the shadows waiting to hurt you, kill you, or worse." She always said. I always wondered what could be worse than killing me, but I never questioned aloud to my mother. I knew better, and I was sure I didn’t want to answer.
"Doubt you could keep up," that wasn't truly a challenge, just a further brush off, "and my workouts are my 'me time', I'm sure you understand."
Grim faced, he seemed to concede, then muttered so low I almost missed it, "Surely I will see you this evening in Round 1?"
"Yes, I saw table assignments earlier, and I will be on Table Six."
"Table Five. At least the view will be nice for me. Boa sorte, doce." ("Good luck, sweet" in Portuguese. Oh my. He’s certainly being very friendly today.).
Though Portuguese was not my strongest language, I knew what he meant and had to remember to give my dad a high-five or a hug, for making me pay attention and care about other cultures and languages so often.
"Good luck to you, also." I replied quickly.
Seeing my exit window narrowing, I darted through the horde of people blocking my way into salvation. I slammed my finger on the button for my floor, and finally exhaled a relieved breath a moment later as the elevator doors were closing obliterating the black eyes that still studied my every move.
Chapter 3
Finally having a moment to myself and feeling strangely dirty from Rey's game of smolder-to-death, I decided a shower would do wonders for my disposition to help settle my mind and body, for my much desired nap. Of course, I was right.
Since I was a kid, bath time had always been one of my favorite times of the day, and had yet to fail me for lifting my spirits, or at the very least helping rid myself of grime and tension.
The steaming hot water from the dual massage heads worked wonders on my tired muscles and the grime of the day. Not even bothering to get dressed, I just patted my body dry and then wrapped my damp cascade of jet black hair in one of the ultra-thick amazing hotel towels that my favorite place always provided. I glanced at myself in the mirror to check for trip and day-damage. My face didn't look as tired as I felt, thank goodness. One of the luckiest things about me was my ability to always appear good, happy, and healthy on the outside.
My cyan eyes were one of my favorite features about myself. They were such an unusual shade of blue and such a huge contrast to my hair, attitude, and other plain-Jane features that it made them better, in my opinion. The one thing that always shined from me.
Jamison always used to say that he would get "lost in the ocean" of my gaze. I always smiled when he said that and would become shy or throw out some "my parents and God gave them to me, I'm nothing special" speech to which he would get grouchy with me immediately and go into some rant about how I'm the best thing that ever happened to him, and he loved every speck of my DNA. How I should accept that and be quiet. Crazy boy! What I wouldn't give to have him back with me, and hear that some cheesy line comparing my eyes to a hidden pool of Heaven's light, or some other abnormally weird thing he would say.
I slammed my eyes shut and took a much needed deep breath and exhaled so slowly that I could feel every molecule of air leave my body. I didn't look at my reflection again, I simply trudged to my cushy bed and flopped onto the dozen cloud-like pillows that littered across the oversized bed. Ahh yes, that is why I pay the big bucks for the "fancy" room my friends always complained about. If I was going to be away from home, I was going to at least enjoy the experience, and if I wanted to sleep and dream about a sexy Angel of No-Mercy, then I chose wisely.
Lying down never felt so amazing. Like after you spend hours working in your yard or after a long hike when, at the end of the day, your body is screaming for rest but you truly feel accomplished. You lay down and it's as if your entire body sighs with relief. That's what it felt like. Complete bliss. Perhaps my body was getting used to rest and catching up the years of abuse I'd been giving it with insomnia, working three jobs at a time, and not caring about my health in general.