Snake Eyes

“Were you really named after Frank Sinatra?” the blond, nameless girl asked as she eyed Frank with complete wonder. He smirked and swiftly pulled her closer so she was sitting on his lap.

“Well, considering he was a close family friend…”

“River: Nine of clubs.”

“Ha! Straight flush,” Frank cried, tossing his cards face-up on the table. “I win again.”

“Some guys have all the luck,” Gerard grumbled as Frank pulled the pile of tokens toward himself, dexterously sorting the chips into neatly striped stacks with his spidery tattooed fingers, wearing that successful smirk of his. The possibilities sparkled in his eyes, only drawing out another defeated sigh from his friend, who had thus far lost at every hand they had played.

“One more, Gee?” Frank asked. He picked up three chips and fanned them out, offering them up as tokens to keep the game going.

Gerard shook his head. “Nah, deal me out. I need a break.” Pocketing the chips he had left, he stood up and walked down the carpeted pathway separating rows of ringing slots and made his way into the lounge. The quiet tones of a piano danced in his ears as he entered the darkened room. Candles dotted the tables, casting a flickering glow on the plush chairs. He stretched out on one chair, propped his feet up, and sighed. He needed a drink.

He spied a pair of shapely legs walking by and half-raised his hand to get the girl’s attention. “Vodka gimlet on the rocks, please.” She stepped over and, much to Gerard’s surprise, sat on the edge of the chair with her legs crossed at the knees and resting over his shoulder.

“I’m not your cocktail waitress, honey.”

He lifted one hand and thoughtfully traced it down her leg. “Then maybe you should tell me your name so I can apologize.”

A faint laugh met his ears. “It’s Lindsey.” A hand suddenly swarmed through his hair, sending a flood of sparks down his spine. He shifted and wrapped an arm around her waist, prompting her to slide down next to him, still leaving her left hand entangled in his hair.

“But you can call me Lady Luck.”

“I don’t feel like gambling just yet,” he murmured. “Not drunk enough to think I’m winning.”

“I saw you playing poker earlier,” she said as she drew his dark hair through her fingers, smiling when he closed his eyes. “No luck?”

“None at all,” he answered. “I’ve only got about fifty left in chips.”

Suddenly her other hand was on the side of his face, fingernails delicately lying over his ear, and her lips met his with an inhumanly sweet taste he had never experienced before. The smell of her perfume became too intoxicating to bear, and had she not pulled away from him moments later, he would have momentarily forgotten they were in public.

“Your luck’s about to change.”

Gerard found himself gravitating toward the nearest poker table, but Lindsey pulled on his arm. He looked at her curiously, studying every aspect of her appearance from the glittering red dress she wore to the suggestive smirk on her face. She lifted a hand to her mouth to hide a laugh, and he saw the spade, heart, diamond, and club painted red and black on her nails.

“Poker’s not my game, honey,” she said as she led him past the chimes of lost wages. “Blackjack either. Ever since people learned to count cards, it’s no fun for me anymore.”

“Then what is your game?” he asked. She stopped walking and put her lips next to his ear.

“Craps,” she whispered, smiling when he seemed to shiver at the word. They continued down into the table games pit, where shouts and cheers of success replaced the music of the slots. “Plenty of bets, better odds than roulette, and a low house edge.” He stepped closer to the nearest craps table and watched. He had played it before, but never with any success. Her arms latched around his neck, and her lips tickled his ear again.

“No cards, no coins. Just you and the dice.”

“Hands high; let ’em fly!” called the dealer. The crowd was too dense for Gerard to see who threw the dice, but he heard the telltale clicks as they bounced around for a few moments. A wave of cheering and applause swept through the air.

Gerard glanced around for a fresh table and spotted one on the opposite side of the pit. The shooter tossed the dice on the table, but after the other players sighed in frustration, the man hung his head and dejectedly walked away.

“Perfect.”

He walked up and moved to place a ten-dollar chip on the bet he planned to make, but Lyn took his wrist.

“What’s the fun if you don’t take any risks?” she asked. “Bet it all.”

“On the first roll?” Gerard asked, incredulous. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the other four blue chips, placing them spread out in a line on the table. The other players seemed surprised by the move, but nonetheless they placed their bets on the table. Gerard retrieved the dice, took a deep breath, and prepared to toss them down.

“Wait.”

Lyn’s painted nails grasped his closed fist, and she delicately blew a kiss over his hand. Satisfied, she smiled and nodded for him to throw the dice.

Gerard had to stop and stare when he saw that they had landed on a three and a four.

“…I just…won.”

The sudden wave of cheering went silent to him. Seconds later the dice were in his hand again, and he felt Lyn’s soft kiss dance over his fingers. He tossed the cubes away and watched in a state of shock as they once again landed in his favor.

The time stretched on with glittering chains of extraordinarily good luck. Another person joined the table, then two. Soon such a crowd had gathered that Gerard could no longer tell how many people there were, nor did he care. His mind was buzzing. How much money had he won thus far? Fifty thousand? Sixty? His fingertips tingled every time Lyn grasped them to softly exhale over the dice. His heart beat faster with every toss, eyes shining as the chips he was collecting moved into the higher colors. Red and blue became green and orange; black and purple traded up to wine red and sky blue, colors he had never even seen.

When he finally felt he was going to faint from exhaustion and excitement, he forced himself to color up his winnings and stumbled away from the table. He made his way to the nearest slot machine and leaned against it, realizing how heavily he was breathing. He felt dizzy.

“I think you need a drink, honey.”

Minutes later, Gerard found himself seated at a bar and holding the glass of vodka, lime, and ice he had never gotten earlier. Exhausted and thirsty as he was, he could hardly find the strength to lift the glass with his shaking fingers. He sighed.

“How much money did I win?”

She laughed again, smiling that mischievous smile. “Exactly two hundred fifty thousand, seven hundred dollars,” she answered, tasting each delicious word slowly and specifically as she wrapped her fingers around a slender glass and raised it to her lips. “Had enough?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be that lucky again,” he said with a deep breath. “I guess I owe you for helping me…” He reached toward his pocket where he had placed his winnings, but her fingers caught his wrist. He paused and glanced at her. One corner of her mouth pulled upwards, exposing pure white teeth that glowed in the low light of the bar.

“I don’t need cash.”

Gerard downed the rest of his glass in one shot and took Lyn’s hand, suddenly wishing they were somewhere else. She silently slid out of her chair and began walking away, pulling him after her as she wove a path back through the casino, finally getting to the corridor with the elevators. His hands found her waist in moments, and he was kissing her again before he could stop himself. She backed away just enough to pull him into the elevator, sliding a finger over button number seven. The doors closed.

“What do you say we take this upstairs, doll?” he asked breathlessly just before the elevator crested the floor and paused. Lyn laughed against as lips as she spun around, somehow separating the two of them so Gerard was standing in the hallway alone. She placed a spade-tipped finger on his lips.

“You’ve had enough for one night.” The elevator pinged and closed the doors, leaving Gerard with a faint memory of her smile as he stumbled down the hallway, his mind numb from a mix of blazing fire and dizzying emotion. He found the card key to his room and somehow managed to get the door open.

“Looks like someone had fun,” Frank said with a grin. He motioned to the lower half of his face. “You’ve got something right there.”

Gerard wiped his mouth on his sleeve, noticing a smear of red on the dark steel gray fabric of his suit jacket. He grimaced, disappointed until he felt the unmistakable weight of the chips still in his pocket.

“So, any luck?” Frank asked. “I got about ten thousand.”

Gerard shrugged, still incredulous. “Snake eyes,” he said weakly. “Luck just ran out on me.”