Page 28 of In the Nick of Time
Doug turned his head to look at Nick.
“What? You could’ve. But now that you’ve gone to seed, you’re doomed to live in a moldy old cabin with spiders—I hate spiders—and eat a lot of bananas to keep you regular.”
Kyle choked back a laugh, but when Doug turned his stern face to him, he just said, “Sven will escort you to the back.”
The back roomwas bigger than the entire front of the club. Was this what it was like everywhere in Vegas?
“Kyle seated you at table five,” Sven told Doug.
“Oh, five’s my lucky number,” Nick said. That was a lie; eight was his lucky number, but Sven didn’t need to know that.
The casino seemed typical of what Nick had seen at their hotel and on TV. There were several tables set up where people played various card games—mostly poker, he assumed. Now that the effect of the high-octane drink he’d had earlier—and the orgasm—had worn off a bit, he could think more clearly.
There were several servers wandering around with trays of drinks, handing them out to other gamers. Bettors? At the back of the room was a stage where young women and young men danced, slithering like snakes with no bones in their bodies. It was mesmerizing to watch and a shame that no one else was paying any attention to them. Almost everyone was focused on the gambling.
“There must be an infinite number of sequins in Vegas. I wonder if anyone has ever tried to figure it out. Now there wouldbe a good wager. But,” he said thoughtfully as he followed Doug to their table, “then someone would have to count each one. Can you imagine if they lost count and had to start all over again?”
“Sit,” said Doug, doing that dog-owner impression thing again.
Nick decided to argue the point later. He was, after all, on his very first mission. He sat.
“What should I do?”
“Watch and learn, grasshopper.”
Nick narrowed his eyes at Doug. “Isn’t that a line from an old movie?”
Doug sighed and shook his head. He proceeded to ignore Nick and make himself comfortable in the cushy chair. The dealer, or whatever they were officially called, approached them, speaking to Doug since he was obviously the Man in Charge. What Nick knew about Vegas games would fit on one of those sequins he’d been thinking about.
“The game starts again in five minutes, are you in?”
Doug nodded. The dealer moved over to another new player.
“Seriously, what am I supposed to do?”
“Do what you’re doing, be yourself. Watch and ask questions—but don’t interrupt the game. Note if anyone seems nervous. You really need to be quiet during play, and don’t touch the table in any way, but these hands tend to go fast. We’ll stay for a few rounds and then head out.”
“How am I supposed to drink my cocktail if I don’t touch the table?”
Doug gave him a look and Nick rolled his eyes.
This was the most boring first mission Nick had ever been on. Except for the dancing and the bathroom, he would rather have been back at the hotel room hanging out with Tim.
Unlike every single James Bond movie he’d seen, which was all of them, there were no heated glances. A seductive person didnot sidle up to Doug and try and distract him. No gunfire pierced the air, forcing the dancers to stumble.
That part was good actually.
Nick watched and learned.
He learned that most of the players at the table were bad, but they didn’t seem to care about losing more money in five minutes than Nick earned in several months. Or in a year, if he was being honest. Even though they were playing with poker chips, Nick could tell the guy across the table from Doug was hemorrhaging cash.
He discovered where another back room was after spotting a server heading through a hidden pocket door carrying a tray loaded with drinks. When she’d reappeared, it was piled high with empties.
He learned he had a small bladder and had to pee again.
Sensing that Doug would flip his lid if he mentioned his need to urinate, Nick tried to ignore his bladder. Doug won a hand, or at least he got to scoop in the pile of chips in a very sexy MI6 kind of way.
“Oh, do that again,” Nick whispered.
