Gambling on the Future

Chapter 1

I want that guy dead! Fredrick Melendez stared pointedly at his two henchmen before leaning back in his chair. The smoke curled around his head. A rough, rumbling, croaky cough worked its way from his chest as he absentmindedly dusted dislodged cigar ashes from his Armani suit pants. He might not be a Fed, but he walks and talks like one. I want him out of the casino and out of my operations. He pointed a well-manicured finger at the two men. Get it done.

You got it. Boss. Hector shrugged his broad shoulders. Melendez always made him uncomfortable. He never had any idea what might be asked of him, but he knew he'd take care of it. To do otherwise would mean sure death and at thirty-two he still had a lot of living left.

We're on it, chimed in his partner. I'm figuring the hit to be a drive-by. They happen all the time. No one’ll be the wiser. He looked at Hector for confirmation and noted the slight nod.

Melendez snuffed his cigar out in the nearby ashtray before commenting, Good thinking. Nothing messy and no one else involved. Keep the job quiet and outside the Rock.

Done, Boss. Hector slapped his partner's arm with the back of his hand as he turned to leave. Let's go, Juan. This'll be a piece of cake.

Once outside the office, Hector stopped to let Juan catch up with him. You know what this guy looks like?

Yeah. I seen him playin' cards. He comes in a lot, but don't put much green on the table. Clod kicker sort of guy like you'd find ridin' a horse or plowin' wheat.

Really? questioned Hector. I wonder what got Melendez' hackles up? He must've been asking questions.

Likely since he's been handed a death sentence. Boss don't like questions. Shit, I don't ask no questions if I can help it. Melendez scares me so bad I nearly pee my pants when he stares at me all serious like and points that bony, yellowed finger at me.

Damn straight. I ain't never plannin' on being on the boss's bad side. Meet you at the tables tonight around nine. That's usually time the cowboy comes in. If he don't show tonight, he'll be here within the week, I'm sure of it. He's a regular.

Chapter 2

Abilene always thought her Uncle Nate was full of hot air when he said, Sister, you let your mouth overload your butt. The truth of his statement hit her full force when the name Rocky Road appeared on her cell and she answered it after the fourth ring.

She smiled, remembering the conversation she’d had with her co-worker.

He’s a great catch, handsome, courteous. You’ll be in love instantly. He’d said.

Tell him to give me a call, she’d said.

Evidently, he had relayed the message because there he was, Mr. Rocky Road himself, on her cell. At thirty-six she was desperate to find Mr. Right, but not at the expense of becoming Mrs. Rocky Road! With the maiden name, Spoon, one of Abilene’s goals in life had always been to change it to something way more glamorous. Just her luck, she’d meet her life’s partner, and he’d been named after ice cream.

What have I done? Hello? Abilene spoke sweetly into the receiver.

Abilene, uh, Spoon? The surprisingly sexy voice on the other end of the line didn’t sound half bad. Hello? Anybody there? the mystery man murmured in a deep, smooth voice.

Hi. Yes, I’m here, she stated quickly before he could hang up.

Kyle suggested I call. He said you might be interested in hangin’ out.

I hoped you’d get hold of me. Hmm, how are you? she hated talkin’ to people she didn’t know, especially guys. She could never think of anything cool to say. She always sounded like her brother talkin’ to grandma.

I’m doin’ great. I’d be even better if you’d go to a Toby Keith concert with me this evening. What do you say? Want to go?

Her heart started pounding in her chest. She wasn’t into country music and totally disliked a loud concert, but not nearly as much as she dreaded the idea of being the little-old-cat-lady. I’d love to go. A concert gets my adrenaline going.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her eyes took in the kitchen piled high with dirty dishes and empty Styrofoam junk food containers. School crafts, work papers, and books were strewn all around the living room. The opened door to the bathroom reminded her it hadn’t been cleaned for two weeks. The only saving grace in this whole place is my coveted Jane Maxwell art print hanging above the couch and with my luck, he’d never notice it because of all the clutter.

Me, too, he said. I used to pretend I was playing my guitar and singin’ on stage. My parents acted impressed like good parents should. He laughed, then was quiet for a moment, like he might be changing his mind.

What time will you pick me up? she asked, just to ensure he didn’t decide to back out. Moments later she remembered the dirty laundry tossed carelessly around her bedroom floor. She traditionally reserved Saturday for house cleaning. Last weekend she’d gone to Dallas to visit her parents. Cleaning the house came second on her to do list for this weekend, right after lesson plans.

I thought we’d grab a steak before the concert, and let’s see … he paused.

She pictured him looking at the time on his phone while calculating driving and eating time in his head.

A half-hour drive, forty-five minutes to eat. How about I pick you up in about an hour.

An hour! She caught her breath. He’ll be here in an hour? One look at this place and he’ll be out of here in nothin’ flat. I have to stall. Umm, a girl needs time. How about adding fifteen minutes? she started grabbing papers as she talked, stuffing them inside her lesson books.

Hey, I’m sure you’re beautiful as you are. I’d rather have a girl without makeup painted all over her face. I’ll give you a little longer, but we don’t want to miss anything.

No, we don’t want to miss anything, she muttered, kicking books under the couch. I’ll be ready when you get here. See you soon.

She sniffed her underarms. They’d pass. She’d skip the shower to give time for cleaning her living space. Everything on top of the coffee table got shoved under the couch and pushed back as far as she could reach. She turned the cushions, fluffed the pillows, took off her T-shirt and used it to dust everything in sight. Entering the kitchen, she stacked dishes as high as she could safely carry them to the bathtub. Three trips later everything was cleared from the counter tops. The kitchen looked better than it had in a week.

Back in the bathroom, she pulled the shower curtain closed, used a wash cloth to clean the sink, faucets, and rim of the toilet. She put out fresh bath linens and used one of the dirty wash cloths and her breath to clean the toothpaste from the mirror. She tossed the dirty stuff in the washer as she passed by on the way to the bedroom.

She had twenty minutes before Rocky would be there. She asked herself what the chances were he’d go in the bedroom. She decided with her luck he’d need to go to the bathroom and open the wrong door. She figured she’d better at least pick up the dirty clothes.

Five minutes later, clothes stuffed under her bed, she stood staring at the garments hanging in her closet. She had fifteen minutes or less to pull something on and make herself beautiful.

This reminds me of getting ready to go out on my first date, she muttered to her cat, Mousey. Her cat lay on the bed, licking the hind leg held high above its head and peered at Abilene.

The cat eyeballed her, rolled over, and began licking its belly.

I see you don’t care about my happiness, she muttered. Her stomach did a flip-flop. Panic struck. She’d never make it. She pulled on her favorite jeans and a comfortable top.

The doorbell rang as she finished with her eye makeup. She grabbed the hair brush and swiped it through her short, face-framing locks, slipped her feet into the closest shoes, shooed the cat off the bed, and went to answer the door.

Hi! Come on in.

Rocky stood casually, hands in pocket, looking every bit the gorgeous hunk Kyle had described. Thanks, but we need to get started. Are you ready?

She wasn’t sure if he asked out of politeness or if he thought she looked like she needed more work. Either way, it didn’t matter. She picked up her purse, gently scooted the cat back inside the apartment, and joined him in the hallway. As I’ll ever be, she muttered, closing and locking the door.

His hand rested, in what she chose to describe as possessive, on the small of her back as he guided her to the elevator.

Once inside he dropped his hand. She felt a sense of disappointment and moved a little closer to his side, pretending the need, as a young couple and their two young children bustled on before the door closed. Two things occurred to her, as they rode down, silently listening to the chatter of the kids. One, instead of working on herself she’d wasted the hour making her apartment presentable, and Rocky hadn’t even gone inside. And two, she had put on two shoes that didn’t match. Her luck seemed to be running true to form.

Chapter 3

Abilene waited expectantly as Rocky pulled under the portico of the Hard Rock Resort, handed his keys to the valet, and walked around the front of the pickup toward her side of the vehicle. She found herself impressed with his air of confidence. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have given any guy dressed in jeans and a western cut shirt a second glance, but this one made the style look amazing.

As he opened her door and extended his hand, her mind raced to figure out how not to call attention to her feet. She grabbed at his hand, slid off the seat, her feet hit the ground as she flashed him what she hoped impressed him as a dazzling smile and exclaimed, This place is massive!

He kept holding her hand and escorted her inside, not once allowing his eyes stray to her feet.

Her mouth gapped open. She couldn’t believe the number of people and the amount of noise coming from the slot machines.

You’ll get used to it, he commented as he tugged her hand. Come on. They stepped down onto the gaming floor. Her body fought to revel in the warmth of his body so close to hers and the scent of his cologne, but her attention darted in multiple directions. A guy in dress slacks, oxford shirt, and tie sat at a machine to her left. He kept pushing buttons with no results until the machine made a ringing bell sound. The screen on the machine turned red, and the pictures spun round and round, while the bells rang long and loud. She peered over his shoulder at the screen, not sure what she should look for. Rocky reached around her shoulder and pointed to the right-hand corner of the screen. He made nearly nine hundred dollars. See?

Her gaze rested at the end of Rocky’s finger. She had to consciously close her mouth, not able to believe what she saw. Oh my gosh, wow! she exclaimed.

More bells sounded along the row of machines in front of them. She walked along, fascinated. She looked over people’s shoulders. One or two of them frowned, but most smiled back. One lady’s screen turned white and little symbols floated over the writing on the screen. What happened? she asked Rocky.

She jackpotted. He walked closer and read the print on the machine. She won fourteen hundred dollars.

Abilene dug in her purse for her wallet. I want to play!

Rocky chuckled, took her arm, and gently pulled her along as he walked away. Come on, girl. We need to eat if we want to get through the buffet and get to the concert on time. Besides, those machines are not always friendly.

Lines filed into the auditorium, Hard Rock Live, from every doorway. I can’t believe how many people turned out for this! She stage-whispered as she held her ground in line.

Once inside, the two of them found their seats and Rocky went to buy drinks. The time passed quickly. She couldn’t stop herself from people watching. He returned, expertly balancing their drinks through the jostling throng. He took his seat as the lights went down and the musicians strolled out onto the stage, waving to the crowd. A wild roar went up as Toby Keith entered from behind the side curtain, holding his guitar above his head in a salute to his fans. The singer appeared relaxed and jovial, dressed in casual jeans and a t-shirt.

Rocky turned to Abilene, raised his beer bottle in a toast, and said, Here’s to you, a great evening, and a hell of a concert.

It was. The audience rose to its feet during every song, clapping, and singing along. They finished off their drinks and Rocky ordered more. She joined in with enthusiasm. Oh my gosh, this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Thank you so much for inviting me.

Glad you came. We’ll have to do this more often. Rocky put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her before turning back to listen to Toby. The singer belted out, As Good as I Once Was. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The feeling of the moment sure did beat all to pieces a night in her lounger grading papers. She realized she felt more alive than usual. She smiled, trying to capture the memory. Toby started singing Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue as the concert came to an end. The audience rose to their feet. She joined them and felt in her pocket for the twenty she’d shoved in there before leaving the house. She couldn’t wait to go out and make money.

As they followed the boisterous crowd back to the casino floor, Rocky leaned in to be heard. I’ll go scan my valet ticket to bring the pickup to the door and then meet you right here.

I want to play at least one machine before I leave. I’ve got a twenty to spare. It won’t take me long.

Rocky laughed. "No. It won’t take long. You’ll probably be done before I even get the card scanned.