I had to win tonight. If I came out on top, Joel promised that he would go to the ER. Then again, his promises weren’t guarantees these days.
“I’ll be here waiting until you’re done,” Joel said. “Test the waters tonight and go big tomorrow.”
I glanced at his knee. “Not like you can go anywhere else.”
He rolled his eyes as he reclined the seat for a catnap.
I guessed it was now or never.
The distant din of Atlantic City swirled around as I climbed out of the car and tugged down the hem of the dress I had thrown on. I wasn’t entirely sure what casino-appropriate attirewas, but I was fairly certain it wasn’t the long skirts or dress pants and cardigans I gravitated toward, as evidenced by my closet. The one and only little black dress I owned would have to do.
Car horns blared and sirens wailed in the distance.
Lovely.
Joel rolled the window down. “Are you just going to stand there all night?”
I glared at him before turning on my sensible heels and making the two-block walk to my first stop—the Ocean’s Edge Casino.
Music poured out of the doors. I jumped back as a horde of tipsy bachelorettes stumbled outside, giggling about the money they had won on the slot machines and squealing about it being “the last fling before the ring.”
Before I could get through the doors, a man in a black polo that sported the casino’s logo stepped in my path. He was built like a refrigerator. Mr. Fridge crossed his beefy arms over his chest and looked me up and down. “No.”
I froze. “Um . . . I’m sorry?”
“What are you going to play tonight?” The Fridge pressed. The wire that threaded up the collar of his shirt to the earpiece he wore probably meant he was security.
“Uh . . . blackjack?”
He cracked a smile and chuckled. “Nice try. Go somewhere else.”
“But—”
Mr. Fridge held out a hand to stop me. “Let me guess. You’re some Ivy League student who watched a couple movies about MIT students and thinks counting cards is a quick way to make some cash.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re not the first person to try it. Not even the first tonight.”
“I’m not a student,” I blurted out. Honestly, that was more annoying than being turned away. I had one of those faces that hadn’t aged alongside my peers. I was constantly mistaken for an incoming freshman when I was on campus before the semester started, even though I always had my faculty badge on me as proof.
“I don’t care,” he said as he waved people in behind me. “You’re not playing here.”
I stood, dumbfounded, on the sidewalk. Joel had warned me about what to watch out for when I got to the table. He didn’t tell me I wouldn’t be able to get in the door.
I made the walk back to the car with my tail between my legs and tapped on the window. Joel unlocked the door, and I plopped down into the driver’s seat.
“Either that was the fastest game of blackjack known to man, or?—”
“I didn’t even get in the door,” I huffed. There was no reason to bury the lede. “Apparently I look like a card counter.”
Joel cut his eyes at me. “You do.”
A caustic laugh broke free.I couldn’t believe his audacity. “And you couldn’t have mentioned that before we left New Haven and drove four and a half freaking hours to get here?”
He shrugged. “You would have made a big deal about it.”
I growled and shoved the car door open.
“Where are you going?” Joel said far too casually for his current predicament.
“To clean up your mess!” I shouted as I slammed the door and stomped down the block.
