She whispered, “An hour alone with me instead of all these fucking men.”
I chuckled quietly, throwing in my ante and keeping an eye on the table’s play before peering up into her eyes. I held her gaze a long moment to show her that she was appreciated, then I clarified in a casual tone, “I just sat down, but I would love a vodka straight up.”
Bingo. She smiled, a real one. “I’ll have that right out for you, Ms…?”
My lips curved. “Farrow. Sadie Farrow.”
She winked as she straightened. “I’m happy you’re here, Ms Farrow.”
“Thank you.” I tilted my head slightly. “And your name is?”
She paused for the barest moment then stated quickly, “Sarah.”
I smiled gently, because that was certainly her real name. “It’s nice to meet you, Sarah.” I let my gaze linger on her ass as she walked away because I knew she would…oh yes. She glanced back over her shoulder, nibbling at her lip nervously to see if I was checking her out. Her eyes gleamed as she hurried to look away. Even prostitutes want to be wanted.
With one connection made, I glanced at the room at large. I, along with the Mage next to me, lost the hand to Elder—whatever he was—Nelson. I scoped out the rest of the female staff. There were five others.
An hour later, one hundred dollars up and after three drinks consisting of vodka, water, then vodka, a pack of cigarettes, a coaster, and—oops—a lighter for my cigarettes, I had officially met all of the waitresses. Every single one of them had given me their real names too, their attention obvious. So much so, they were starting to hover. One was constantly walking by our table every few minutes.
The Mage next to me folded.
I raised before sipping at my vodka.
The Mage leaned back on his seat, turning his head in my direction and stating in a relaxed tone, “Ms Farrow, correct?”
My lips twitched as I sat my drink down and peered at him. Those were his first words of the evening, earning the covert gazes of everyone at the table. “Yes.” My head tilted toward him. “Mr Stellar, I presume?”
Golden eyes roamed my face sensibly, not flinching at the fact I had known he was the owner all along. “You would be correct.”
I hummed quietly, comfortable in this environment. I tapped my fingers on the table and returned his regard. “Now that I’m positive you’ve scoped out the new name on your list using your best capability, am I trustworthy for your establishment?”
His head cocked, and he stated bluntly, “You have no background, Ms Farrow.”
My lips curved. “I’ve often found backgrounds to be tiresome.”
Easy words. “Where are you from?”
“I’ve lived all over the world. Most recently, I’ve found residency in Choep, New York, which I’m sure you already know.”
“You’ve had experience in gambling.”
It wasn’t a question, but I shrugged. “I grew up around it. A real asshole foster parent I had ran gambling hells like yours.”
“What made you choose my establishment in which to amuse yourself?”
“I live close to here. Plus, yours was the most coveted name I heard.”
“Thus you prefer the glamorous games…”
My smile wasn’t fake. “Not always. I prefer to go where the biggest spenders are.”
“Ms Farrow, the woman brought up in illegal gambling halls, has lived around the world and enjoys the largest bankrolls,” he sipped from his drink, “you know the way things work around here.” He gestured at the table. “Tell me who’s who at this table, because anyone with true skill knows what’s been happening here for the past hour.”
My brows lifted. “You want me to explain your business practices in front of your clients?”
He nodded once. “It’ll be good for them.” He paused, then he tilted his head at Elder Fergus. “Except for the quiet one. He seems to know the score already in the few times he’s been here.”
I chuckled quietly, having seen that myself—and much more—but I asked seriously, “Are you sure about this?”
He sipped his drink. “I always am.”