“That’s so cool, Rocco,” Marcy gushed.
“Yeah,” Rocco agreed. “A lot of people are calling me the next Elon,” he said. “Literally no one has accomplished an all-crypto casino before.”
“That’s so impressive,” Marcy cooed.
“I am literally going to vomit,” Frances moaned.
Rocco continued to talk, and Marcy continued to coo and say things weresowonderful and sosickand wow, she wassoimpressed. But then Rocco shifted closer. “I’m not going to lie—you look hot as fuck, Marcy.”
Edie jerked her gaze in their direction. Frances put a hand on her arm and shook her head.
“I got a penthouse suite here. It’s sick. Want to check it out? I guarantee you’ve never seen anything like it. Not even Trump has anything like it.”
“Gosh, Rocco,” Marcy said. “I’d love to, but if I don’t get back to my friends soon, they’ll call in a search party. Rain check?”
Frances and Edie stilled.
“Come on,” he said. “Call your friends and tell them you’ll see them later.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“Well … what about tomorrow?”?”
“Maybe,” she said coyly, leaning into him. “Here, give me your phone and I’ll type in my number.” Rocco handed over his phone without question. She leaned against his shoulder and typed in her number. She handed him the phone, slid out of the booth, then leaned over, so that her breasts were at his eye level. “It issogreat running into you, you don’t even know,” she said in a husky whisper. “You’ve made my trip.”
Rocco smiled up at her like a little boy smiled at a puppy. Marcy didn’t linger; she wiggled her fingers in a precocious goodbye wave and walked away, her hips swaying. Frances and Edie watched Rocco watch her.
“That kid is a fast learner,” Frances said.
“Yeah,” Edie said. “I should be so proud.” She lifted her hand to signal Tavon. “We need to get out of here, sweet cheeks.”
“Absolutely,” Tavon said, and hurried to close out their tab.
They met up at the house as planned, arriving separately from Marcy. Frances was the first one in, intent on getting to her room and lying down before the contents of her supper came up. She slipped through the door in case Joan and Irene were asleep. But they were not asleep—they were sitting on the couch, practically in each other’s lap.
Irene leapt to her feet, her cheeks turning pink. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “You’re back. How did it go?”
“Amazing,” Frances said, her gaze flicking between the two of them. “Don’t mind me. I’m just going to …” She pointed to the door of her room, intending to go in, but Edie burst in at that moment, Marcy on her heels. Marcy’s eyes were shining with triumph as she sailed into their midst. “You should have seen me!” she said excitedly and plopped onto the couch next to Joan in the spot Irene had just been sitting.
“I take it you are pleased with the results?” Joan asked dryly.
“I think so, don’t you, Nana?” Marcy quickly recounted the meeting, how she’d spilled her drink, how Rocco was asking to see her tomorrow. “He’s already texted me twice.” She giggled.
“Don’t respond right away,” Edie said. “Let him chase you.”
“Oh, he’s texting again,” Marcy said, her gaze on her phone. She smiled as she read what he texted, then her thumbs flew as she replied.
The four older women exchanged looks. “Marcy, put your phone down,” Edie commanded her. “You don’t want to seem too eager. And we have a rule.”
“Our number one rule,” Joan interjected. “Don’t fall for the mark.”
“As if,” Marcy said, her gaze still on her phone.
“Marcy—” Edie started.
“Nana,” Marcy shot back. She lowered her phone. “I’ve got this.”
“Oh Lord,” Irene said. “Nothing says disaster like an overconfident newbie.”
