All In

lissimo

lifetime to the emerald felt where fortunes change hands every six seconds. I built her while the old guard was still arguing

n't

he money move. The tourists love me or they love the idea of me. Dante Moretti, the prince of Las Vegas, the man w

s me to

cocktail waitresses are beautiful, practiced but empty. The air smells like perfume a

I see

fingers moving in that quick, practiced rhythm dealers get after a few thousand hours and she's smiling. But the smile doesn't reach her eyes. Those eyes are tired and sad in a way that makes my chest go tight. I've seen every kind of woman walk throug

i

lking. A busboy nearly crashes into my b

told me which men to trust and which to bury, is telling me that the girl at table t

. But this feels like neither. It feels like a

ok away from her. T

Works doubles, sometimes triples. Sends everything home to her mother in Pahrump. He paus

does something stupid to my pulse. Name, address, debts, fears, ex-boyfriends. Whether sh

s what I pay him for. But I

oticed the pit boss hovering behind her tabl

Good with numbers, bad with waitresses. Rocco's voic

ut

of the girls.

arefully still. If that man has ever laid a hand on her, I'm g

ers

rowd and I go back

laughing, the way her smile never flickers even when a man ten years too old leans over the rai

to

to me

small furrow between her brows when she does mental math, the way she rubs the small of her back

iful in a way that has nothing to do with the casino lig

laughs. A real laugh, surprised and bright, the kind that comes from somew

whole life without

I

lan on waitin

eel the weight of my

ole casino drops away the bells, the chatter, the churn of money. It's just her and me

lips

misd

the cards back. The tourist doesn't care. The pit boss, Calder, lean

nd settle on her wr

and. Rage is the language I was raised in. I can feel the weight of the g

front of her.

so

ands, then rub her eyes with the heels of her palms like she's trying to push the exhau

my sight feels like

and he's there. The fil

Ca

taking my eyes off the staff door she disappea

n't get quick endings. They get lessons. I'm going to write on

unrise payments cleared, debts erased and a monster removed. Then I pocket it walk back across

aw

ng home to a threadbare couch and a cat with good instincts.

's f

ll her

o