Page 11 of Mechanic

The intimidating man approaches slowly, his gaze focused on the phone in his hands.

My body tenses as soon as I realize that it’s Tony DeSteffano, one of the pit bosses. His reputation precedes him. Gossip around the casino has been worse than anything I have ever encountered before. He is known for being a total asshole and mean as a snake.

Having a moment to take a closer look at one of the men I will eventually be working with, I suppress a shutter.

Tony stands at around six and a half feet tall. His salt and pepper hair is styled in what I would call a fifties greaser look. The top and sides are slicked back away from his face.

The way his suit is square at the shoulders with sleeves close to ripping, it is obvious he works out.

A loud ping has me jumping and spinning around just as the elevator doors open. Sending up a silent prayer that Tony didn’t notice my roaming looks, I step into the elevator quickly.

Another employee is already in the elevator car, so I move to the opposite corner. Tony pockets his phone before stepping inside. The elevator seems much smaller, with such a large man occupying so much of the space.

From the corner of my eye, I notice the other person cower into the corner. She gives Tony a wary glance as she tries to make herself smaller. Wrapping her arms around her body, it’s obvious she is upset. Her entire body has started shaking.

Tony snickers, forcing my head to snap forward. His reflection in the steel doors shows a smirk on his face. It’s like he is getting off at knowing he makes this girl uncomfortable.

I can understand her reasoning. Tony radiates negative energy.

Thankfully, the elevator comes to a stop. The car bounces softly just before the doors slide open, accompanied by a soft ping.

“Ladies…” Tony says before stepping out, leaving the two of us alone.

Hesitating, I follow but move to the side in an attempt to put some distance between Tony and myself. The doors start to close just before a hand darts out. The sensors force the doors to reopen, and the girl steps forward.

Warily, she looks in the direction Tony went. When her gaze lands on me, she lets out a squeak of alarm.

“Are you okay?” I ask softly, not knowing where Tony slithered off to.

“Yeah, I-I’m f-fi-fine. T-th-thanks,” she stutters out.

My head tilts a little, trying to determine if her stutter is from nerves or if she always stutters.

Holding out my hand in her direction, I paste a smile on my face.

“Antonia,” my words are soft and pleasant, not wanting to scare her any more than she already is.

“Margo,” she responds, meekly shaking my hand in return.

“What do you do? I don’t think I have seen you around before,” I ask, trying to make conversation.

“Oh, I ah, uhm, work in the kitchens, banquets mostly,” Margo responds, her stutter disappearing as we talk. It confirms that it’s a result of Tony’s presence. The question is, why? She is kitchen staff, not part of the floor staff.

I completely understand her anxiety in Tony’s presence, though. He can be a real son-of-a-bitch, having seen his behavior firsthand. While I personally haven’t had much contact with him, his reputation is well-known throughout the entire casino. More than one dealer has left the floor in tears after a talking down from him. Which I have witnessed at times, since I often drop off drinks at the card tables.

Margo’s near whisper pulls my attention back to her. “What do you do?”

“Sorry,” I say with a smile. “Wandered off for a minute there. Currently, I am a cocktail waitress. But I just finished casinodealer school, whatever you want to call it. Once my license is issued, I will be transferring to the tables.”

Margo’s eyes widen in response to my answer. Before she can comment on my statement, a high-pitched squeal reaches my ears. Both of our heads snap to the side, looking at the source. A huge smile crosses my face just before I am slammed into. Shawna wraps me in her arms and sways the two of us from side to side.

“Congratulations! This is fantastic,” she croons.

“Well,” Margo says, inching away from Shawna and me and tossing a thumb over her shoulder. “I’m, ah, just gonna go. It was, ah, congratulations, meeting you.”

Finally breaking out of Shawna’s hold, I chase after Margo.

“Wait,” I exclaim, placing a hand on her arm as I scramble to step in front of her, blocking her escape. “Do you want to exchange numbers? Maybe we can get a drink and hang out?”

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