No Ordinary Bloke (7 page)

Later that night, I paced near the front of the casino where I’d told Allison to meet me. I began to worry that maybe she’d decided against the evening as the minutes ticked past our agreed upon meeting time. I jingled the poker chips in my pocket when I heard her voice from behind.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

I turned, and no doubt, the stupid grin of an infatuated teenage guy crossed my face. My redhead beauty was in a green dress that wasn’t revealing at all, but showed enough neckline to rouse my imagination. I couldn’t help but think she wore the dress for me. “You’re never allowed to apologize for being late, and I’ll encourage you being tardy when you show up looking like this. You’re stunning tonight, love.”

She glanced down at her dress. “Thanks. I actually went out and got it. I wasn’t sure how fancy a casino in Asia would be. I think I’ve seen too many James Bond movies.”

“Not so posh.” I looked around the room. “Lots of American and German retirees in shorts and trainers violating the dress code.”

“And they let them in because they have money?”

“Exactly.”

“Yet you wore a suit,” she said approvingly.

I tugged at the cuffs of my dark dress suit. “You need to be prepared to be lucky.”

She gave me her dazzling smile. “With that accent…the suit…in a place like this, you do seem sort of Bond-like. You even look like a younger Daniel Craig.”

A compliment such as that was a promising sign. I grazed her bare arm with my fingertips for the briefest moment. “Well gorgeous, that makes you my Bond girl then.”

Her eyes had drifted down to where I had just touched her, and she raised them again, looking a bit surprised. “Oh, I don’t think so. I doubt I’ll bring you any luck.”

“Don’t matter at all. A Bond girl may be beautiful, but she’s not necessarily good luck. Half of them are communist spies out to shoot his knob off.”

She patted her handbag. “Now where is that gun of mine?”

“Who knew Greystone had any communists working there?” I laughed and pointed to the back. “Let’s go meet my friends. I see I need to keep moving or my life is in danger.”

A wicked glint appeared in her eye. “Not your entire life is in danger. Just part of it, or are you going to say
that
part of you
is
your whole life?”

Steering her toward the back of the room, I laughed. “Maybe not my whole life, but a very big part of it.” I arched a brow and added, “Very big.”

“You did not just say that, did you?”

“I did, and I won’t take it back.”

She grinned. “You are
terrible
. Just terrible.”

“Good. You’ll remember me then.” I continued to lead her to lead her through the casino. “We’re all playing poker. Do you want to join our table or just watch?”

“I think I’ll watch for now.”

As we made our way toward the poker tables, I briefed her on Lewis and his boys. I made a point of mentioning that Lewis knew Trey. She gave me a half smile. “I mentioned to Trey that I was going gambling tonight. I’ll have to tell him who I met.”

Of course, the question that begged to be asked was if she’d told Trey she was out gambling with me. I wasn’t going to ask it, though. Nothing would be had by putting her on the spot.

When we arrived at the table, Lewis and the boys were all lovely to her and made her feel at ease. I pulled a stool over so she could sit by me. Thankfully, she knew enough about a casino not to comment on the game as we played. The whole table did chat throughout though. She waited until we had a break in play to whisper in my ear, “Why are you letting them win?”

I looked straight ahead both to hide our conversation and to make her continue whispering in my ear. In a low voice, I replied, “The lady knows something about cards.”

“A little.” She leaned in a little closer. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I kept my voice flat. “I’m happy to lose here if I win elsewhere.”

“Ah,” she said. “I get it. You’re in the middle of a deal with them.”

I nodded and gestured over to a table of strangers. “If I was at that table, I’d be playing a different game.”

“Gotcha.”

It only took an hour or so for Lewis and his mates to win just short of a thousand pounds off me. Without looking at Allison, Lewis played with my chips now sitting before him and said, “I think David you must be distracted tonight.”

“Possibly,” I answered. I gave him a side-eye glance as a warning not to make jokes about Allison. “Maybe we should move on to blackjack.”

Lewis caught my eye and understood. He turned to Zhan and Joseph. “This is where I leave, and I suggest you do, too. We’ll never beat him at blackjack.”

Zhan shook his head. “I don’t even want to try.”

“Me either. I’m fine quitting while I’m ahead,” said Joseph, scooping up his chips.

As I said goodbye to Joseph and Zhan, I could hear Lewis speak as he shook Allison’s hand a final time. “It was wonderful to meet you, Allison. Please tell Trey hello for me when you see him again.”

“It was nice meeting you as well. I’ll definitely mention you to Trey.” Oh how I wished I could’ve seen her face.

After a few more minutes of goodbyes, Lewis left with his lads, but not before calling over his shoulder, “Good luck, you two.”

Allison gave me a sheepish half smile, so I elbowed her in the arm and said, “So Lady Luck, are you up for blackjack?”

“I guess so, but I don’t know that much about it—just that you’re trying to hit twenty-one.”

“That’s the gist, but it gets more complicated at a casino.”

“All right then. Teach me.”

“I’d be honored,” I said, showing her the way to an empty seat at a blackjack table.

Allison again sat at my side and watched closely as I played, usually nodding in understanding of the play at the table. At one point, though, I drew an eleven, and her eyes widened as I doubled my bet to something near five hundred pounds. She looked genuinely alarmed. Luckily, I won the hand.

When the dealer took a short break, Allison and I could talk. She was still incredulous. “Why did you double your bet? There was no reason to.”

“There was every reason to. You always double down on eleven.”

“But why? That seems like an arbitrary rule.”

“Statistically, you’re more likely to win than not when you start with eleven.” I pointed to my chips. “And look. I won.”

“You did, but I didn’t have a good feeling about it.”

I played with the chips, hoping to look casual as I asked a loaded question. “And do you usually do as your feelings dictate or do you play by the rules?”

When I met her eyes, they’d widened, and she took a breath before saying, “I follow the rules. They’re there to protect you, aren’t they?”

“Supposedly.” I turned and stacked my chips, leaving it at that.

A half hour later, I drew another eleven. But this time, just as I was about to signal to the dealer I was doubling down, she touched my arm and shook her head. I looked at her like she was crazy. Hadn’t we already been through this once? I whispered, “I thought you went by the rules.”

“Not this time. I don’t think you should.”

She gave me an apologetic smile, and I looked at the cards of everyone playing, including the dealer. Though the odds were that if I didn’t double down, I’d miss an opportunity, yet I wondered if she might be right. Maybe there was a card lurking out there to ruin my game. I signaled to the dealer that I’d be staying with my current bet and turned back to Allison. “Feel better?”

“Much.”

And she was right. This time the dealer was sitting on an ace while I got dealt a bunch of crap. After the hand was over, I decided it was time to act. I only had one night left in Singapore, and if I wanted it to be with her, I’d need to move quickly. I touched her arm. “How about we get a drink to celebrate your intuition?”

“Okay.” She smiled. “You haven’t had a drink all night, have you?”

“Not when I gamble. I’m working.”

When we got to the bar, I asked, “So what shall we drink?”

“I’ll have a martini.”

“I’ll have one as well.”

“So Mr. Bond, do you like your martinis shaken not stirred?” she asked, hopping up on a barstool.

“You know I’ve never understood that line. Who the fuck stirs their martinis?”

“I don’t know. That’s a good point.” She laughed. After the bartender took our drink orders, she looked up at me, “I’m going to say this because it’s true. I’m not blowing smoke. You really were a little like James Bond at the table.”

I grinned. “How so? Because I had a beautiful bird at my side?”

“No. Just what I said before. The accent, the suit, playing cards…” Her smile turned shy, and she swiveled on the stool. “I think the word is dashing.”

“Well, thank you, but that’s not really a word that applies to me.” She had no idea how much I appreciated the compliment. Our drinks had only just arrived, though, so the time wasn’t right to get to serious. I held up my glass. “To Lady Luck, which you seem to be for me.”

She clinked her glass to mine. “I’ll toast to luck, but I don’t think that’s a good name for me.”

“As a Bond girl, you do need a name.”

“Oh, God. Not one of those.”

“Let’s see. Which is your favorite?”

“I’m not going to play this game.”

“Why ever not?”

She poked her finger at my chest. “You just want me to say the names because they’re dirty.”

“Not true. I was just making conversation.” I took a sip and smiled. “And I wouldn’t say they’re dirty, just a tad naughty. So what’s your favorite name? Pussy Galore or Honey Ryder?”

“I’m not going to answer that.” She was playfully smug.

“I’ve always been partial to Plenty O’Toole.”

“What movie was she in?”

“Diamonds Are Forever.”

“Am I missing something? Plenty O’Toole doesn’t sound sexual to me.”

“O’Toole?”

“Like Peter O’Toole?” She shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

“Ah, I suppose tool is a British word.”

“For what?” She held up her hand. “Stop. You don’t have to tell me. I figured it out.”

“Such a clever girl.”

“It wasn’t that difficult.”

“I’m so happy to have expanded your vocabulary, love. Now which do you prefer? Pussy Galore or Plenty O’Toole?”

The twinkle was in her eye, but she kept mum with her lips pressed together. I chuckled. “It’s all right, love. There’s no wrong answer.”

“Do you torment every woman you meet like this? I know you can’t at work or you’d have sexual harassment issues right and left.”

“Of course not.” I leaned in closer to her, so close that I could see that the green of her dress was just a shade darker than her eyes and not nearly as pretty. “Haven’t I made it clear yet that I find you exceptional?”

My smile was long gone, and hers faded fast. As I studied the lips I’d thought about kissing for days, her mouth twitched. After a moment, she spoke in a tone that was dead cold. “Exceptional because you’re in the middle of a deal with my boyfriend?”

“Absolutely not.” My voice became as serious as hers. “It’s an unfortunate problem I’d rather not have, rather than some great challenge.”

She was stone silent, but her eyes softened. I took that as an invitation. Now only a few inches away from her lips, I said, “You could’ve pushed me away long ago. There has to be a reason why you’ve let me carry on, why you’re here with me right now. Do you
want
to be here?”

Only breath came from her lips as I waited for her answer. Then in a whisper that sounded like a realization, she said, “I do.”

There was one proper response to that. I moved in for a kiss, and just as I was about to place my lips on hers, she gasped, “But I can’t.”

I was still registering what she’d said when I felt her hand on my chest, pushing me away. She turned her head from me and hopped off the stool. Then I last things I heard from my Allison were the swish of a skirt and a panicked, “I’m sorry. Goodbye.”