Page 44 of Tequila & Lace
I looked at the table, leaned closer and then back to him. “Five.”
“If I roll a five, you have to kiss me.”
I smiled. “Okay.” I blew on the dice again and sure enough he threw a five. Without hesitation, I stood and wrapped my arms around his neck, planting my lips on his. It was nothing like kissing Paul. I felt nothing. There were no butterflies in my stomach, no drip in my panties, nothing.
I blew on the dice again and he threw an eight, the crowd groaned and he drew me to him.
“What does that mean again?”
“We lost and my turn is over.”
“Aw man.”
“I won a grand, though,” he beamed, riffling his chips.
“So Iamyour lucky charm?”
He pulled me to him and kissed me again. “Yeah, you sure are.”
We stayed at the table while he placed bets on other shooters until he was the shooter a few more times. Twice he won on the come out roll. I was starting to believe I was really his lucky charm because he was racking in the dough.
The date was coming to an end and I was walking him toward the elevators where I was going to say goodbye.
“Come up to my room with me, Andi with an I.” His arms wrapped around my waist, his body flush with mine as he leaned into me and against the waiting elevator wall.
“Sweetie, you know I can’t do that.”
“I’ll pay extra,” he whispered into my ear.
“Let’s not ruin a good thing.”
He pulled his head back and stared into my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You just won a lot of money. Go call your wife.”
“Right. I paid for a hooker and I can’t even get laid. Just like at home.”
“Derrick, I’m not a hooker. There’s a difference.”
He jabbed his finger repeatedly for the elevator. “Just go.”
“I’m sorry.”
My heart broke a little as I walked away and he got into the elevator. I turned slightly and saw his head hung low as the doors closed. I wanted to run back and hug him. Even though he was a client, I’d had a really good time with him. I had no interest in him romantically, but I could tell he was a good guy. I’d thought for sure he’d hired me because he slept around on his wife, not because his wife wasn’t sleeping with him at home.
Like his hidden tattoo, you never knew what people were hiding.
When I made it out to valet, it had slipped my mind that Martinez’s girl would be waiting for me, but sure enough she was. She was sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette and staring at her cell phone as I approached her.
I slid in beside her. “I didn’t think you’d come,” she remarked blowing smoke above our heads.
“Had to come get my car.”
“Where did you want to go to talk?”
“We can talk right here,” I suggested.
“Suit yourself. Are you enjoying your time here, honey?”
