Page 64 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves
“The Palms.”
“Next to Caesar’s Palace?”
“Is that okay?” he asked.
“Sure.” Annie cleared her throat. “One room or two?”
“Honeymoon suite,” he said.
Annie felt her stomach flip-flop. One room? One bed? With Fisher? Oh dear.
They parked and checked into the Palms. The inside was huge, full of towering palm trees under an enormous skylight and a fountain that shimmered like an oasis in the desert. Annie felt her jaw drop open in surprise. It was beautiful. The sound of bells ringing and phony change clanging echoed throughout the lobby and Annie felt as if she were at a fair. She walked closer to the archway that led into the casino.
It looked like a high stakes carnival. Lights flashed in all colors in all directions. People sat hunched over slot machines while more people roamed from one felt-covered table to the next. Annie could hear the shouts of the winners over the clang of bells and she was irresistibly drawn toward the commotion.
“I’ve got our key.” Fisher appeared at her elbow. “Let’s go on up.”
Annie glanced at him and then at the plastic card key in his hand. For all intents and purposes, this man was legally her husband. Yikes!
“Let’s gamble first,” she said and strode into the casino.
“Annie!” Fisher followed on her heels. “I don’t gamble. I’m a Fed.”
“Oh, well I’m not.” She flashed some teeth and marched toward the roulette wheel. “I have a feeling about number twenty-seven.”
“Annie...” Fisher’s voice carried a note of warning. She ignored it.
She found an empty stool between an older man sporting a ten gallon Stetson hat and a tiny woman covered in purple sequins who was lighting a fresh cigarette from the burning remains of another one. They each had a pile of chips in front of them.
“Number twenty-seven.” Annie plunked a dollar on the table. The dealer glanced at her with one eyebrow raised. “It’s a five dollar minimum, ma’am.”
“Oh.” Annie dug into her purse and pulled out a five. “Here you go.”
The dealer handed Annie a five dollar chip, dragged her bill across the table and using a clear plastic handle deposited the money into a slot in the table.
“You sound pretty sure about that twenty-seven,” the old cowboy said.
“I just have a feeling,” she said and placed the chip on twenty-seven. She heard Fisher heave an exasperated sigh behind her.
The dealer tossed the ball into the spinning wheel and waved his hand over the table to indicate no more bets were to be placed. Annie watched as the wheel slowed and the ball stuttered to a stop.
“Well, I’ll be,” the cowboy said. “Twenty-seven!”
Annie felt a rush of excitement rip through her. She’d had a feeling, but she hadn’t really expected it to come up. The dealer began to count out her winnings and she turned to Fisher and hugged him.
“Can you believe it?” she asked.
“Only you,” Fisher said, laughing. “Terrible odds and you won.”
A waitress, wearing a grass skirt and a coconut-shell bra, came by and Annie ordered champagne for the entire table. The chain-smoking woman grudgingly accepted hers while the cowboy thumped her on the back and slurped his down like it was a shot of whiskey.
“Are you ready to cash out?” Fisher asked.
“You can’t leave now,” the cowboy protested. “What else do you have a feeling about, little lady?”
“Six,” Annie said decisively.
“Six it is,” the cowboy declared and placed a hefty wager on the number.
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