Page 22 of Royal Shark
Gustavo bows his head briefly. “Nice to meet you. I’ve never had royalty at my table.”
I smile. “Pretty much like everyone else. Except once in a while I pull out my crown just to make sure all the jewels are still there.”
He laughs and heads over to the card table. Sara heads to the kitchen.
I cross to the seating area by the fireplace and pull out my phone, checking on stuff back home. There’s several emails from Emma—my formerly silent investor—who’s now managing the casino in my place with Jackson. She’s aggravated, complaining she doesn’t hear about shit until after it’s gone south, and then there’s nothing she can do about it.Welcome to my world!I’m glad it’s not just me. She also says the restaurant didn’t keep enough inventory of lobster, which is really dumb because that’s one of Villroy’s major exports. The flowers she ordered never arrived, but she was charged for them anyway. And a male guest patted her ass when she stopped by a blackjack table to inquire if everyone was enjoying themselves. Jackson took that guy out before security could even get close.
Well, well, well. Not easy to take a walk in my shoes. I know it’s wrong, but I’m glad she’s not having an easy go of it. I was beginning to think it was me that was the problem, instead of it just being a really demanding job.
Sara and Ms. Kay return to the parlor with trays filled with shot glasses, vodka, and pickles. Interesting.
A short while later, the food arrives. I thought it would be some traditional Russian food, but instead she ordered dim sum, a cheese platter with olives and crackers, and individual dishes of meatballs. Ms. Kay arrives with caviar from the kitchen and some dark crackers.
“Do you vary the menu each game?” I ask Sara.
“Yes. It’s always a surprise, and I try to get light little appetizers. I don’t want anyone sluggish at the game. Just small bites to keep them alert and having a good time. These are from a foodie service. They stop at the best restaurants in the neighborhood and deliver.”
“What other kinds of foods do you get from a foodie service?”
“We have a lot of ethnicities here. Could be Caribbean, Russian, Jewish, Italian. We’ve got pretty much everything. I avoid pizza due to the heaviness factor.”
“And you stick to vodka. No beer or wine.”
She lifts a shoulder. “I tried beer, but they just prefer vodka. They like to toast a lot. Keep your glass in the air until the toast is completely done and drink it all at once. That’s the custom.”
“I’m aware. Is everyone hammered at the end of the night?”
“No. It’s a small shot, they eat between shots, and they’ve got a tolerance, I guess.”
“And you?”
She leans close and whispers, “Sometimes I spit it back into my chaser drink of cranberry juice. Usually it’s just me or the occasional woman one of them brings along that have the chaser. The guys prefer their vodka straight up.”
“You really took the time to understand their culture, didn’t you?”
“There’s a huge Russian community in Brighton Beach, one of the Brooklyn neighborhoods. I was already familiar with their culture and, believe me, they let me know loud and clear when they like something or don’t.”
The rest of the guys arrive within minutes of each other, and Sara introduces me to them. They look a little starstruck, bowing and staring at me, so I try to put them at ease, thanking them for letting me join their game in Yuri’s absence. There’s Mikhail, Alexy, Roman, Kirill, Vlad, Sergei, and two Dmitris.
Then I’m temporarily lost, as the conversation is entirely in Russian. I wonder if Sara knows what they’re saying and how much she misses during the game that could indicate a problem she doesn’t know about. Ignorance is not bliss when it comes to high-stakes poker games.
I watch as they each greet Sara warmly, kissing her cheek and calling her Sunny Sara. She’s bright, warm, and friendly. They all want her. I’m not being paranoid. Guys know this kind of thing. She’s single and sexy, and there are no girlfriends here. It’s nine guys in their twenties and thirties, some in casual T-shirts and jeans, some in dress shirts and trousers, all surreptitiously checking her out, from her perky breasts to her narrow waist and the flare of hips clearly outlined by her outfit. Only I can check her out because I’m her hero. I look out for her while battling my own lust. That’s damn heroic all by itself.
Sara casually shifts to the corner with the cashbox. They’re in good spirits as they follow her, each handing over a wad of cash for their buy-in, which she accepts while chatting with them as if the money is beside the point.
I hand her my cash last. She doesn’t make conversation with me, just quietly tucks the cash inside, locks the box, and stashes it in her suitcase. The men are talking to each other like they’re old friends, occasionally slapping each other on the back. I’m curious how they make their money, but I play it cool. I’ll see how things play out.
First, everyone raids the food table, talking loudly. Sara doesn’t join them, instead sitting casually near the card table with a pleasant expression on her face like she enjoys watching them enjoying themselves. I help myself to some dim sum. No one talks to me, though I get some friendly smiles and head nods. I hesitate to interrupt their conversation in Russian. After everyone eats, Sara pours vodka into the shot glasses. This seems to be an indicator that the game will begin, because plates are left on the side table and everyone wanders over to the card table with their drinks.
Ivan stands next to the game table. “Before we play, a toast.” He lifts his glass high in the air, and we all follow suit.
Ivan lifts his glass toward Sara and then me. “To our hostess with the mostess and her royal friend.”
Everyone clinks glasses and downs the shot.Ho-yah! Bu-u-urn.I suppress a grimace. I’m more of a beer drinker than vodka, but when in Brooklyn…
Finally, everyone takes a seat at the card table. Sara announces the round to a jovial cheer from the guys.
The dealer begins, and the conversation is in English now, probably because of me. The guys banter back and forth over who’s been eating too much pizza and putting on a paunch.
