Different Circles

“Are you sure she is going to want to get it on?” Pauline asked. “The two of them are going to be wasted after flying all the way from Poland to Las Vegas after finishing up their last show the night before, not to mention being jetlagged as all hell.”

“I have faith that Laura’s need for satisfaction will outweigh her jetlag and fatigue,” Jake said confidently. “Does seven o’clock dinner work for everyone?”

Everyone agreed that it worked for them. They boarded the elevator and rode up to the top floor together. Fifteen minutes later, Jake, Pauline, Obie, and G all met at the main entrance to the high-roller casino floor. The armed security guard at the entrance scanned their key cards, saw they were allowed inside, and permitted them entry.

The casino floor was maybe three thousand square feet in size, though looked much bigger thanks to the mirrors that lined every wall. Unlike the normal casino floor where the riffraff played, there were only a few slot machines and poker machines here. These were clustered together in one corner and the minimum bet for all of them was ten dollars per play. No one was playing on them at the moment. Most of the room was filled with gaming tables; blackjack, roulette, craps, pai-gow, and baccarat; upon which the minimum bet was five hundred dollars. There were perhaps two dozen gamblers in the room, a few of them musicians who would be playing at the TSF tomorrow or Sunday, most of them older people unknown to Jake. There were no clocks on the walls. There were no windows to the outside. The lighting was uniform and would remain so twenty-four hours every day. There was a light haze of cigarette smoke in the air and the smell of a cigar or two. A trio of scantily clad, extremely attractive cocktail waitresses circulated about between the bar and the customers, serving drinks and enduring without protest the occasional hand stroking their bare legs. All of the tables were staffed by at least one dealer. Two bartenders manned the bar—one an extremely attractive woman, one an extremely attractive man.

“Drinks, first and foremost,” Jake said, making a beeline for the bar.

The rest of his group followed him over. Everyone ordered their drink of choice—Jake went with a captain and coke—and the bartender politely set them up, making no effort to collect payment or even verify their identity. If they were able to enter this room, they were to be given free drinks. That was the rule. Everyone tipped him and then turned to take in the casino floor once again. Pauline found the roulette table and headed over. Jake, G, and Obie wandered until they found an unoccupied blackjack table staffed by an extraordinarily beautiful girl named Yolanda. Yolanda’s nametag declared that she was from El Paso, Texas and she looked young enough that one might question whether or not she could legally work in a casino.

“Welcome, gentlemen,” she greeted as they sat at her table, Obie at first base, Jake at second, Gordon at third. “Can I get you some chips for play?”

“I’ll take twenty for now,” Obie told her.

“Same for me,” Jake said.

“Give me forty,” G directed.

“Very good,” she said. “If you’ll just show me your identification and let me scan your room cards?”

They produced the required documentation. She called out to the pit boss—an older, though still attractive gentleman who looked more than a little prissy—to verify the transaction and then pulled out twenty thousand dollars in chips for Obie and Jake and forty thousand for Gordon. The chips were carefully counted out in view of their recipients, the dealer, the pit boss, and the cameras in the ceiling and, once everyone was satisfied with the count, names were signed and play was able to begin.

“Good luck, gentlemen,” Yolanda told them and then began to shuffle the multideck pile in the shoe.

They placed their bets for the first hand. The minimum bet was five hundred dollars but none of them were that piddly. Obie threw down two thousand-dollar chips. Jake threw down one. G put down three of them.

Yolanda laid down the first hand. Under this table’s rules, the player cards were dealt face-up. Obie had a seventeen. Jake had a fourteen. G had two sevens. Yolanda’s up card was a six of hearts.

“That’s what I like to see,” Obie said, waving his hand over the top of his cards.

Jake did the same, playing the odds that the dealer would break, thus giving him the win by default. G split his hand, putting another three thousand dollars down to cover it. He was given a six on the first seven, which he held, and then an eight on the second. He held that as well.

“All right, let’s see what we got,” Yolanda said cheerfully. Her cheer was likely genuine. After all, it was not her money she could potentially lose here, but the house’s. She got paid the same from the house no matter what the outcome. And if the customers were winning, they often tipped her quite well.