Page 63 of Double or Nothing
“Piece of cake,” I correct.
“Whatever,” she says with an eye roll. “Americans eat too much sugar.”
We step through the gold revolving doors of the casino and hesitate for a moment once we’re inside. Now that we’re here, I’m unsure of where to go or the best way to proceed.
“What’s next?” I whisper. “Do we go straight to Peggy Penguin?”
“No, we’ll walk through the casino first. Maybe stop at the roulette table. Or watch a poker game.”
I nod and follow alongside her as we walk down the long row of blinking slot machines. Occasionally, we slow down, allowing our eyes to linger over the captivating narratives each game portrays.
“Remember, there might be big ears listening to our conversation,” Natasha warns in a hushed tone. “Play the part.”
We wander around for a few minutes like two tourists new in town who are unsure of what to do. Finally, she halts in front of a slot machine emblazoned with a fiery creature called Dragon’s Dungeon. “Dragons!” she exclaims without a trace of her normal accent. “C’mon, let’s play.” She points to the machine next to her. “You take that one and I’ll take this one. Let’s see who can win first.”
She excitedly pats the empty stool beside her, and I quickly sit. “This will be fun,” she says in a giggly voice, clapping her hands together. “Let’s try our luck.” Taking cash out of her purse, she slides several bills into the slot machine. “You should play too. Lady Luck is on our side tonight. First, we need a drink to start us off.”
She turns around and waves at a cocktail waitress. “Can we get a drink?” she calls out in a loud voice.
The waitress hurries over. “Sure. What would you ladies care to drink tonight?” she asks with a big smile.
“I would love a vodka tonic,” Natasha tells her. “And she’ll have a club soda with lime.”
The waitress gives me a curious glance. “Are you sure you don’t want something stronger than club soda? It’s Vegas.”
“She doesn’t drink,” Natasha answers.
I blink at her, trying to follow her line of reasoning. If she wants me to have a club soda, then I won’t argue.
“Club soda?” I whisper to Natasha when the waitress walks away. “Why did you order me that?”
“You’ll appear to be drinking alcohol when you’re not,” she replies. “In case security is watching us. They’re always watching. Drink a few sips. It won’t kill you.”
“If that’s the case, why are you drinking alcohol?”
“I’ve been drinking vodka since I was a small child,” she replies, rolling her eyes at me. “It’s no stronger than water to me. Put your money in and start playing.”
The next few minutes we play game after game on the machines, laughing obnoxiously and cheering each other on. We lose money on every spin, but it’s fun to pretend to be someone ditzy for a change. When our drinks arrive, Natasha takes her glass and stands up with an exaggerated sigh.
“Let’s go play another game,” she says. “These machines are rigged. Stupid dragons took my money.”
“Okay, where to next? How about blackjack? Do you know how to play? You can teach me, if you do.” I’m trying to keep up a normal conversation in case someone is eavesdropping.
“Card games are boring,” she whines. “Come on,” she says, taking my arm. “Let’s find something better.”
We wander around aimlessly, stopping at the roulette table and then watching blackjack. Natasha’s glamourous appearance and long, blonde hair catch a few of the big player’s eyes at the poker table. One man in an expensive suit tries to motion her over to his table.
“Bastard,” she mutters under her breath to me.
Meanwhile, we’re keeping a close eye on the three Peggy Penguin slot machines scattered around the floor. As soon as one frees up, I’ll grab it.
We wait patiently for our chance. When an elderly gentleman hits the cash out button and moves away from a Peggy Penguin machine, Natasha seizes the opportunity. She slides into the vacated spot; her face beaming with feigned enthusiasm.
“Oh, wow!” she exclaims loudly. Her eyes are wide, theatrically captivated by the machine in front of us. “Look at this one. Penguins and puffins! I love penguins. They’re my favorite! Why don’t you try it? You’re luckier than I am tonight. Here, sit on the stool.” She pats the stool invitingly, her hand leaving an imprint on the plush fabric.
“Penguins are my favorite animal too,” I chime in, my voice a notch too enthusiastic, a note too high, echoing our charade. My fingers trace the glowing outline of the animated penguin on the machine. “They’re so cute and cuddly!”
The act of playing an airhead is wearing thin. Keeping up with the dumb back-and-forth banter, the giggling, and the fake astonishment about everything is draining. I’m running out of idiotic comments.
