Page 33 of The Fortune Games
“I don’t owe you any explanation,” I huffed. “Let me go, Bastard.”
A step to the left. Bastian’s body blocked my path again.
“Oh, no, no, no. You can’t fall on top of me and just walk away!”
A step to the right. He appeared in front of me, quick as a bullet. It felt like we were dancing in the middle of the casino. I made Bastian let me go, flailing my arms like a child having a tantrum. I didn’t care who saw me. There was no other way to win.
“Let’s make a deal,” I said, crossing my arms. “I’ll tell youon one condition.”
Bastian licked his lip, intrigued.
“What’s that?”
I pointed to a spot behind him. He turned around.
“Let’s play a game.”
The roulette round I had seen as soon as I entered the casino had just ended. The dealer looked for new participants, and the waitresses tried to attract those who had just entered the lounge to the table. Bastian smiled.
“Is that all?”
I had never played roulette. God, I had never even been in a casino. I didn’t know the rules or the secrets of the game. But I had a lot of money and a bunch of questions.
And nothing to lose.
Wherever Gina had gone, I was sure she could wait for me a bit longer. We approached the table.
There were three other players around the green-felted table and, as soon as the seats were all filled, the dealer called for the game to start. The other players began placing their bets. Bastian pulled out two stools for us. He placed his jacket on one, and I sat down, watching the hands of the group of players move chips around the table, announcing their chosen bets. Red. Six-line. Full.
I realised that, thanks to many hours of watching TV, I knew the basics of American roulette: the dealer throws a ball onto the wheel, it spins several times, and lands in a slot. If I guessed correctly, I would win. If not, I would lose. I could bet on the colour, several numbers, or just one.
I was interested in both losing my money and winning my personal challenge against Bastian.
“Let’s go for a full bet. Whoever gets closest to the winningslot number,” I whispered, “gets to ask a question. No lies allowed.”
He examined my face and, with a half-smile, placed his bet on the table. Five chips on number sixteen. I put another five on the twenty-nine.
“No more bets,” announced the dealer.
He spun the ball.
Beginner’s luck. That luck that makes the player overconfident, believing that the stars have aligned in their favour, that God, fate, or even the horoscope (something Gina believes in) has blessed them. That luck that creates addicts and gamblers and breaks families and marriages. That damned luck made the ball land on the twenty-nine. On the damn twenty-nine.
A shadow crossed Bastian’s face. He must have mistaken my annoyed expression for malice. He didn’t understand that I was playing a double-edged game.
“It must be your lucky number,” he laughed. “A deal’s a deal.”
The dealer slid the chips towards me.
Instead of losing money, I had won more. I clenched my jaw and ran a hand through my hair, forcing myself to focus. I’d lose the next round. Now I just had to make the most of my luck.
“What are you doing here?” I shot.
It was the obvious question. That’s why I wasn’t expecting the answer to unsettle me.
“I came with someone. We had to split up for a moment. And if you’re referring to the casino and not the Club…” he pointed with his chin to a corner, where the couch where we had met was located, if you could call it that, “…they love this place. They’re friends with my date.”
Our night was turning out similarly. Also, I hadn’t noticed that we had an audience. A group of five girls was watching us with curious eyes, oblivious to our little game within the game.
