“You sure? Because I’ve been watching and you’re doing it all wrong.”
Pauline turned to him with her sweetest smile. “Were you watching us? That’s not creepy at all.”
“I just meant?—”
“I’m pretty sure my friend here knows how to press a button. It’s not exactly rocket science.”
“Hey, I was just trying to be friendly.”
“Mission accomplished,” I said. “You can go be friendly somewhere else now.”
He left, looking confused, and Pauline raised her glass. “To terrible pickup lines and the men who use them.”
“May they forever be unsuccessful.”
We clinked glasses and went back to losing money.
Ten minutes later, another guy tried. This one was older, wearing a suit that was trying too hard, his wedding ring conspicuously absent from his left hand.
“You ladies look like you’re having fun,” he said.
“We are,” Pauline said. “And we’d like to keep it that way.”
“I could show you where the real fun is.”
“Is it far away from here? Because that sounds perfect.”
He blinked, processing. “What?”
“The real fun. Is it in a different casino? Different state? Different dimension?”
I choked on my drink trying not to laugh.
“I just thought?—”
“That two women alone at a casino wanted unsolicited company from a married man who took off his ring?” Pauline’s smile could have cut glass. “Fascinating assumption.”
He left faster than the first guy.
“You’re evil,” I said.
“You know me too well.” She laughed.
I was about to respond when I felt it—that particular awareness when someone’s looking at you. That electric feeling that starts at the base of your spine and works its way up.
I turned.
Everything stopped.
Because there he was.
Michael Ashford. Walking through the casino floor.
The slot machines seemed to go quiet. The people around us blurred into nothing and it felt to me that the whole world narrowed to him moving through space like he’d stepped out of some parallel universe where people looked like that.
I hadn’t been this close to him in almost a year, and I’d forgotten what it did to me.
He was wearing a suit but it didn’t look like work. Dark gray, perfectly tailored to his shoulders and waist, jacket unbuttoned like he couldn’t be bothered with formality. No tie. Top button undone. Just enough to make you wonder about the rest.
