“It’s terrible. But the gesture is nice.”
Two of the guys walk over to our table. The one with curly blond hair speaks first. “We couldn’t help noticing you fine ladies from across the room and had to do something about it.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes, but Frankie is smiling and I don’t want to ruin her good mood.
Besides, I haven’t allowed fun into my life in some time, and we’re in Vegas. I grab the champagne flute and take a sip. Frankie is right. It’s terrible, and the waiter is wrong. This isn’t champagne, it’s more like sparkling wine.
“Thank you,” I say once I manage to swallow it down.
“My name is Daniel, and this is Dave. Can we join you?” asks the dark haired one. He’s tall and has a nice aura about him, but something seems off to me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say.
I look over at Frankie but she’s emptying her glass in one large gulp. “Sorry. We’re headed out.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the casino.”
“Which one?”
I kick her chair to let her know that we don’t need to give them any further details, but she ignores me. “The one inside this hotel. No need to travel any further. They’re all the same, anyway.”
“I disagree. Some have more beautiful women inside them than others.”
I sputter and grab a napkin to cover my mouth. Surely, Frankie won’t fall for—
“Why don’t you join us?”
“We really don’t need company for the slot machines,” I say.
“Slot machines? You didn’t come all the way to Vegas to play slot machines, did you?” asks the blond.
I didn’t come to Vegas to gamble at all, but Frankie interrupts me before I can explain.
“What did you have in mind?” she asks.
“Have you ever played Blackjack?”
“Not in Vegas, I haven’t.”
“Well, then, let me help you pop your cherry.”
I groan. “Our cherries have been popped a long time ago.”
This time, Frankie kicks my chair, and I reluctantly follow her after we pay for our meal. As we walk toward the lobby, I pull her aside.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to have fun,” she hisses. “What’s your problem?”
Her question takes the bravado out of my annoyance. “I don’t know. They seem young, I’m guessing no more than twenty-one.”
She wrinkles her brow, then turns away and shouts, “Dave?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you in college?”
“Yeah, I’m a senior at the University of Nevada.”
