Page 4 of Don't Bet On It
I swallowed hard. That was essentially my dream job. Or, well, my dream job when it came to being a server. “Aren’t those positions coveted by other servers already entrenched in the Stone ecosystem?”
He shrugged. “Yes, but I’m the boss. What I say goes. I can get you the job.”
“But…” I chewed on my bottom lip. “Won’t the other workers hate me?” I asked finally. I couldn’t help myself from asking the question.
He shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Um, yes. Anywhere I’ve worked, half the people have always loved me, and the other half have always hated me. I like that balance. It tells me who the good people are. If I take that job, everybody is going to hate me.”
“I can’t pretend to understand the politics of that,” he admitted. “I don’t really care either, and I don’t see where you have a choice. This is the sort of job that could change your life. You would be able to pay your rent and save up a nest egg in short order.”
“Nest eggs are nice,” Olivia enthused. “I didn’t know how nice until Zach and I got together.” She lowered her voice and leaned in. “It’s not a good feeling to always fear that you’re going to be homeless … or that you’re going to have to move in with Sharon.” She made a face, telling me that being homeless was preferable in her mind. “This job will save you.”
“It will at least give you breathing room,” Zach agreed.
I pursed my lips. They were right. I didn’t have a choice. “I’ll take it.”
Olivia grinned. “Yay!” She did a hip shimmy on the booth seat. “This is going to be so great. I’ll be able to see you all the time now.”
That part was great. It was the other stuff that made me leery. Still, I had zero options. And because I recognized that Zach had done me a solid, even though I loathed being a charity case, I snagged gazes with him.
“Thank you,” I said in a low voice.
He didn’t look smug as he regarded me, only relieved. “We love you. We want you here. Sometimes, it’s okay to accept help. It doesn’t make you less than you want to be.”
That was easy for him to say. Despite my misgivings, I sighed. “It’s going to be great.” I didn’t feel it, but I knew it was the right response. “I can’t wait.”
2
TWO
Working at a casino wasn’t easy. That was one of the first things I’d learned when growing up. Sure, the lesson had come under the roof of a different casino—more on that in a moment—but the only thing different about casinos was the decorations. Management was almost always the same. The way things ran never differed. Things were just … the way they were.
How had I learned that? Because I grew up in Hawthorne Casino & Resort, which was exactly like Stone Casino & Resort. Well, except for Hawthorne favoring rich pinks and reds for the decor while Stone was all for sleek grays, blues, and purples. Otherwise, they were exactly the same.
Or, well, they used to be.
Hawthorne was operated by Norbert “Never call me Norbie” Hawthorne. Stone used to be run by Ryder Stone. He’d been ousted a full year before, however, and arrested three months after that. Now, he was in jail serving time for embezzlement. From what I was hearing—and I was not in the inner circle—his mistress had left him, taking their love child with her, and his adult children from his broken marriage had basically cut himout of their lives. The kids and the cheated-on wife were now running the show, and from what I could tell, they were doing a good job. I avoided them like the bubonic plague, however. Why? Because they knew me—and not as an employee.
And who was I? It was not some big secret. Or, well, I guess it was. When I was here at work, I liked to fade into the woodwork for one very specific reason. I didn’t want anybody to recognize me. If anybody realized that Norbert Hawthorne’s only son, Ronan Hawthorne, was working as a dealer at a rival casino, it would be scandalous news. Vegas loved nothing more than scandalous news. I don’t want to be the center of that news. Not ever.
So, that was why I avoid the Stones. I’d grown up with them. The three sisters—Pearl, Opal, and Ruby—were older, to the point I had never been in the same school with them. Zach, the only Stone son, and I were closer in age, only two years apart. Were we tight? No. Not even a little. If anything, we were rivals. I didn’t hate him or anything. In fact, over the last year, I’d earned a grudging respect for him. He’d helped take down his own father. How could I not respect that? I just didn’t want to explain my presence.
Would Zach have been mad to find out I was working for him? That was a hard question to answer. Maybe. Maybe not. He would definitely have questions. Right now, the last thing I wanted was to answer questions.
It wasn’t that I was doing anything nefarious. That wasn’t my way. I was, however, working a plan. Not only didn’t I want my father to know I was employed by Stone Casino—that would be disastrous—but I was also keeping secret why I was saving up so much of my own money. He always held the purse strings open … with stipulations. He wouldn’t understand.
No, there was no plan for world domination. There was no plan to open my own casino and bring my father to his knees.I loved my father. I didn’t like him all that much. He was overbearing and bossy, things I wasn’t in the mood to deal with when it came to my career. And thiswasabout my career.
I had no intention of being a dealer for the rest of my life. It was a perfectly respectable career. I just didn’t want it to bemycareer. No, my plans for myself involved a small gallery, cool cocktail parties, and a life away from the corporate mindset.
My father wanted me to take over running his casino. He wanted me to be a big, important man. He didn’t understand you didn’t need to run a casino to be those things. Did I want to be big and important? I didn’t want to be big. Being important, well, not everybody thought the same things were important. That meant I needed to save up money. I had a plan.
Unfortunately, that plan included working at a rival casino, something that he would not take well. That was why I was keeping it to myself. For now, at least. I had no doubt the news would get out eventually. My goal was to make sure that eventually was further down the road. Much, much further.
I hummed to myself as I left the restroom. I was on a break. We got three throughout our shifts. It was a way to move us from table to table. Being a blackjack dealer wasn’t as mindless as I initially envisioned. We had to be on our toes, looking for hinky stuff. That stuff included card counters, people working in teams, and the occasional prostitute sliding in to try to steal from our players. Sure, we had security. Everybody worked together to keep the operation running seamlessly, however.
I was lost in thought—a painting I was working on was missing … something—and my mind had wandered to color palettes. So I missed the server scurrying past the restroom and accidentally plowed into her with enough force that she almost lost her footing. My regret was instantaneous.
