2-11
I arrive at my former dorm in a haze of tears, still wearing the dress I wore to dinner. Maria face whitens when I stumble inside, and she dissolves into tears when she sees me. Luckily, I had the foresight to drop my suitcase at her place before I broke up with him. The dorm still looks the same, except Maria converted my bed into a surface to hold more of her clothing. She has claimed more of the walls by posting photographs and band posters to the walls.
I can’t even fathom going back to his place to get the rest of my shit.
“What the fuck happened? You were so happy!”
“I don’t know,” my voice croaks out.
“Did he cheat on you?”
“No!”
“Did he hit you?”
I glare at her. She shrugs her shoulders, wiping her face with a tissue.
“Why are you crying? I’m the one who’s not getting married anymore.”
She wrings her hands hopelessly. “I was so excited about it, and you two looked so happy together.”
In a few hours, I have to get ready. I’m so tired and unhappy that I collapse onto my bed, which is a lot harder than I remember. My back protests immediately.
“We’re just not right for each other.”
Maria swivels in her chair, dressed in pajamas already. I’m surprised she’s not going out. It’s a Friday, after all. She gapes at me, clearly unimpressed by my lame excuse.
“You missed a lot of class for him. I figured you were head over heels for the guy.”
I don’t even want to think about it.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve got to get ready for work in a couple hours.”
“You’re working? Where?”
I avoid her bright, curious eyes. “Some casino near JFK.” It’ll take over an hour just to get there by subway. Despite the circumstances, I feel a small thrill at the thought of being a dealer again. It’ll be different than last time.
Then I remind myself why I’m there in the first place: to get close to Carmine. Close enough to get dirt on him that’ll probably get him killed.
Yeah, that ruins my spirits.
“You’re working for them again? Jesus, Adriana!”
I sigh heavily and my veins burn with the need to open the mini fridge and guzzle whatever alcohol she has kept in there.
“Hey, maybe we should hang out this weekend. Get your mind off things.”
“Yeah, sure.” I sit up from the rock-hard bed. “I have to take a shower.” Avoiding Maria’s sad looks, I slip into the bathroom and remove the dress from my bone tired body. I look at my face in the mirror.
How did it come to this?
* * *
Bright, loud lights announce Worlds Casino, an unremarkable building slapped with a sign that burns into the night. It’s so bright that the light bleeds into the darkness and I can see it when I close my eyes. The entrance is bathed in bright purple.
I push through the chipped, gilded doors and walk over the cheap carpet. The whole place reeks of cigarette smoke and my lungs tighten. I try to resist the urge to cough.
Rows and rows of slot machines flash their gaudy lights as they bing and ping, playing their ostentatious tunes. Down the massive hall, I can see craps tables, and even further, blackjack tables. Shiny black globes above me watch everything I do. The whole place is crammed with people, mostly the elderly, and college girls who look like they just turned twenty-one. As I approach the high stake tables, the clientele gets younger and more male.
I scan the tables, searching for Carmine, who I have no idea what he looks like.
“Are you Adriana?”
I turn around and see a guy my age with rolling black hair, the sides shaved.
“Yeah.”
“Come with me.”
Dumbfounded, I follow him through a set of double doors, which leads me into the VIP section. It’s much smaller here, and much more stuffy with cigar smoke. Men flank the doorways, patting their jackets as I enter. Guards are posted everywhere, but they look quite bored, almost as if they wish someone would start shit. I feel like I’ve just entered another world, a tiny corner of this casino dedicated to mob activity.
A man stands in the center of it all, watching all twelve or so tables. He must be the pit boss.
“Carmine.”
The young man calls out to him, and he revolves on the spot, spotting me immediately. His face lights up with a smile and he walks over.
My insides stiffen as a man in a handsome, dark blue suit walks up to me. He has chestnut brown hair and blue eyes, and he’s older than Vince by a few years. I can see faint wrinkles near his eyes, which deepen when he smiles. A light sprinkling of stubble covers his cheeks, but all of it suits him. I feel like a young, silly girl next to him.
“I’m Adriana.”
“Carmine,” he says in a cheerful voice. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”
He takes my hand in his and shakes it firmly, never once breaking eye contact. My first impression of this man is that he’s polite, handsome, and quite charismatic. I can’t help but smile back.
“How are you doing this evening?”
“Pretty well. You?”
“Oh, I’m excellent.” He beams at me.
I get the feeling that he’s a happy-go-lucky guy. God, I already feel guilty.
“Let me show you where you’ll be dealing.”
He shows me to a deserted table and I automatically take my place behind it. Carmine sits across from me and gives me a sad little smile.
He leans in secretively. “Listen, I know why you’re here. Tony told me everything.”
I seriously doubt that.
“You’re not here by choice, but that doesn’t mean that working for me has to be unbearable. I’m a pretty good boss to work for. I’m not gonna give you a hard time so long as you do your job. Okay?”
My lips somehow pull into a smile as pressure builds in my head. He’s nice. My insides harden when I think of Vince and his mother. I’ll do anything to protect them. Even if it means I need to sacrifice someone else.
How far I’ve fallen.
“Sounds good, Carmine.”
His fingers smooth over the felt. “You’ll be paid an hourly rate, plus any tips you get from customers. I take fifteen percent of your tips, and you’ll get overtime pay during holidays. The dealer always hits on a soft seventeen. Gives the house a slight advantage.”
My eyebrows rise. Fifteen percent? That’s a lot better than I thought it would be. His tanned face breaks into another smile and I try to gauge him through his hooded eyes. Does he like me? I decide that I should take it slow. I’m in no hurry to ‘get close’ to this man who I feel nothing for, but I think he would find it suspicious if a recently engaged woman started hitting on him.
“Well, I see customers coming in. Gotta go.”
He gives me a roguish wink and gets up from his seat to greet the new guests. I plaster on a fake smile as they surround my table for Blackjack. Carmine stands nearby, his eagle-like eyes watching me out of the corner of my eye.
I wonder if the men at my table are connected somehow, or if they’re just wealthy businessmen flying into New York who just want to blow off some steam. Two forty-ish men dressed in slacks join my table with a giant box of chips. Three other join, immediately engaging me in small talk.
The cards fly out of my hands. I love the suspense-the energy. I can feel it building in my body, healing me. All of my worries fade away, and all I focus on are the tiny printed spades and hearts.
It’s a casino, so there are several decks in the shoe. It’s much harder to count cards, but I do it anyway to amuse myself. The chips fly towards me, and I pocket any tips I receive. People at the table make small talk with each other, and their bets get a little more extravagant as cocktail waitresses bring them free drinks. I watch as Carmine walks around each table, making sure each guest is having a good time, handling any issues or complaints that come up. I’m trying to learn as much as I can about him.
Then there’s movement at the door and I look up.
Oh, shit.
Vincent.
My heart pounds hard against my ribs when I recognize him, a mixture of relief and fear overwhelming me. It’s only been one day, but I already miss him. I wonder how he’s doing.
He’s standing there, as bold as brass, looking at me like he’d quite like to strangle me or bend me over the poker table to fuck me. Who knows.
The last thing I need is Vincent causing a scene at my new job, but his head finally turns away from me towards Carmine, who heads him off.
Fuck.
They talk to one another in hushed tones. I can’t conceal how awkward this is, and I’m completely distracted by his presence. So much so that one of the players snaps at me.
“Come on, we’re waiting here.”
I smile painfully and return to the game. My eyes still flick towards them, and I think I see Vince’s eyes glancing back towards me just as frequently. Suddenly, a cocktail waitress slides up next to him. She’s dressed in a skimpy outfit and her hand rubs the back of his neck.
When he gives her a polite smile, I feel my world crashing. My guts are ripped out of my body.
He’s mine. Get your filthy hands off him.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.
He’s not anymore.
Suddenly, that realization hits me hard. I feel sick. The weak walls I built up for this collapse, and an overwhelming wave of sadness crashes over me. I can’t take it. All the stress burns in my chest like a cancer. And then a sob shakes from my throat and I’m crying in front of my bewildered customers.
Jesus. It’s a nightmare, but I can’t stop.
Carmine notices me before Vince does, and then he turns away from the waitress to see me and his face falls. He looks like I’ve just kicked him in the stomach.
Carmine is there in seconds, beside me. “What’s the matter, hon?”
This couldn’t be going any worse. I wipe my eyes furiously, looking away from Vince. “Nothing-nothing-”
He looks from me to Vince and seems to understand with a single glance. “Go take a break.”
“What? But I’ve just started!”
His hand falls on my shoulder and squeezes. His blue eyes wrinkle with sympathy. “Adriana, you can’t work like this. Go on in the employee’s room. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Thanks.”
I get up as Carmine gives me a grim nod and I practically run towards the break room. The noise of the casino drops away when the door shuts. Inside, there are lockers and a single table. I sit down and cross my legs, shivering in the cold.
I have to pull it together and act like it doesn’t bother me. He might even start seeing other women, who knows?
Just the thought of it makes me sick.
The scrape of the door makes me jump in my seat, and Carmine walks through, looking grim.
I sit up straight. “Carmine, I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again, I was just a bit upset.”
He straightens his suit and takes a seat next to me. “Stop apologizing. Vince told me you guys broke up. I’m sorry, I didn’t know or I wouldn’t have had him meet me here.”
A frown spreads over his face as if he thinks it’s his fault.
“He wasn’t there for me?” I ask in a small voice.
“No, he was just here on business.”
“Oh,” I say, a little crestfallen. So he’s already moved on.
He gives me another sad smile and touches my shoulder while he takes a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and offers it to me.
I’m really struck by his kindness. I take it from him and stammer thanks as I dab my eyes.
“I know how you feel. Break-ups are always hard. I can’t imagine breaking up with someone I was engaged with.”
“It’s really hard.”
More than you know.
“When I was young, I was crazy about this one girl. No matter what I did, she didn’t feel the same for me. I mean, I tried everything, but she could care less. It took me years to get over her. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m really over her.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw as he tells me this, and there’s a faraway look in his eyes. Like he still thinks of her and misses her. It pulls at my heartstrings.
It’s strange to hear a stranger talk so openly, but there’s something refreshing about that.
“I thought I loved Vince,” I tell him, folding his handkerchief over and over. “I left him only a couple days ago. It’s still hard to see him, even if I’m better off without him.”
Carmine makes an assenting noise in his throat. “Yeah, he strikes me as a bit of a hothead. He told me to go fuck myself when I said that he shouldn’t come around here anymore.”
Horrorstruck, I look at him above my hands, but he merely looks amused. “I-I’m sorry-”
“Don’t apologize for him, sweetie.” He pats my hand in a conciliatory gesture and gets up.
“Carmine-the girl who you fell in love with-do you still think of her?”
He traces his finger over the table before he looks back at me. “All the damn time.”