Page 126 of Desperate Pucker
“Well, whatever you two are doing, keep it up,” the first fan says. “We wanna see the Bashers bring home another Stanley Cup.”
He pats my shoulder and sits back down. Quiet hope settles inside of me. I want that too.
The dealer explains the blackjack rules to Maddy. After everyone is dealt their cards, she frowns at hers.
“I think I want another card,” she says.
The dealer slides her another card face down. When we all flip our cards over, Maddy’s over twenty-one. She sighs and shakes her head.
“It’s okay. Try again,” I say.
This round, she holds back and doesn’t ask for another card. When the dealer shows his cards, he beats her hand.
She chuckles. “Wow. I’m really bad at this.”
“Blackjack takes a while to get the hang of,” the dealer says.
“Wanna try a different game?” I ask.
She nods. I thank the dealer, tip him some cash, and wish the guys at the table good luck.
“Wanna try poker?” I ask.
She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t really like card games.”
I zero in on the craps table. “Let’s do this then.”
There’s a small crowd around the table.
“We can watch for a while so you can see how the game is played,” I say.
Camden is at the head of the craps table. I explain the rules to Maddy. He rolls the die and manages to hit a hard eight. Everyone cheers.
He pumps a fist, then rolls again. Another eight. More cheers.
“Damn, dude. You’re on a roll,” Sam says.
“I need a little bit of extra luck this time.” Camden winks at a pretty blonde standing a few feet away.
He steps up to her and holds out the dice in his hand. She giggles and blows on it. When he tosses it onto the table, he gets another eight.
“Wow. Camden’s really good at this game,” Maddy says.
“More like lucky. There’s not a lot of skill involved in this,” I say.
Just then, a college-aged woman walks up to Maddy.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but you’re Madeline Macer, right?”
Maddy flashes a tight smile. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m such a huge fan of yours.”
Maddy’s smile relaxes.
“I’ve been watching you compete since I was a little kid,” the young woman says. “I made my parents sign me up for figure skating lessons in second grade because of you. You’re my idol.”
Warmth flashes in Maddy’s eyes. “Really?”
