Power Play: Jodie and the Billionaire (3 page)

“Maybe
he’ll realize what he fool he is.”

“Excuse
me.” She stood, putting her phone away. “I have to… find my friends.”

He
gave a little bow, waving her on, and Jodie wobbled—literally,
wobbled—past him. She wanted to apologize—or perhaps rail at him in
some sort of display of misplaced outrage—but she did neither. The casino
seemed huge, everything too dazzling and loud. But she still heard her phone
buzz again in her clutch.

“Goddamnit.”
Jodie pulled her phone out, stopping in the middle of the walkway to read the
text.

Please
believe me, it’s over with her. I’m sorry. Text me back.

A
slow, hot rage filled her chest as she stared at the words. Over? Just a few
hours ago, she’d logged into his Facebook—Jason’s passwords were too easy
to guess, something always having to do with playing World of
Warcraft—and had seen a message to
Nicole
about how much he
loved
her. And now he wanted Jodie to believe it was over?

It
was over all right.

She
texted him back.

It’s
over. Between you and me. O.V.E.R. I want you out by the time I get home. And
change your FB password, asshole.

Jodie
pulled up the most damning picture she could find of her and Mr.
Martini—the one with his hands decidedly on her ass—and attached it
before she hit “send.” Then she wandered, dazed, back to the blackjack table. Lauren
waved her over and Jodie gave her a look that said, “Don’t you dare!” praying
she hadn’t already told everyone about their encounter with Mr. Martini. Lauren
just smiled and nodded, asking the dealer to hit her one more time.

“Kimber,
listen.” Jodie slipped behind her friend, putting her chin on her shoulder. “I
think I’m going to go up to my room…”

“Noooo!”
Kimber protested, turning to grasp her friend’s hand. She was very drunk. They
all were. “I know blackjack is boring. Let’s go play craps! You guys, Jodie is
the best dice player in the world. Seriously!”

The
girls squealed and gushed at the thought of doing something new. Jodie just
stared at Kimber in disbelief.

“I’ve
never rolled craps in my life,” she protested as Kimber dragged her over to an
open craps table.

“No
but you whipped our butts at Yahtzee,” Kimber reminded her with a laugh.

“I
don’t think that’s the same thing.” Jodie looked over at Lauren for help but
the other woman just shrugged as the girls got settled in front of the table,
stowing their little purses and drinks on the ledge under the table and placing
their chips in the racks.

“Sure
it is, all you have to do is roll!” Kimber nodded toward the dice. “Come on,
Jodie!”

“Seven
out!” The short, stout man with a fat, handlebar moustache behind the table
announced, using a curved stick to wrangle the dice. The whole table groaned
unanimously. There were two other men behind the table paying off bets. The
girls took up one end of the table, but there were a half dozen people already
playing at the other end.

“New
shooter! New shooter!” The mustached man winked at Jodie. He’d obviously heard
Kimber’s comments. “Place your bets!”

Jodie
understood black jack and roulette, but she didn’t know the first thing about
craps. The green board with all the numbers on it made no sense to her at all.
People were setting chips down all over the place.

“Pretty
lady gonna shoot the dice. You ready, sweetheart?” The stick man pushed five
sharp-cornered red dice with white spots on them in Jodie’s direction but he
kept them just out of her reach, dropping her a sly wink.

“Uhh…”
Jodie gulped. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Lucky
first time roller here!” The stick man announced. “Choose your lucky two!”

Jodie
had to reach far over to grab two dice. They felt good in her hands. She’d
always been good at dice, Kimber was right. Her sisters had loved to play
Yahtzee, but they hated playing with Jodie, because their youngest sibling
always won. Jodie didn’t understand their anger and frustration when the dice
didn’t do what they wanted. She just “asked” the dice in her head as she shook
them in her hand and most of the time, they did as she requested.

Of
course, this wasn’t Yahtzee. She didn’t even know what she should ask for!

“One
hand. Keep the dice low, try not to hit the chips, but throw ’em hard enough so
they hit the back wall of the tub—the rubber alligator.” The little man
explained, pointing to the other end where the raised rubber did, indeed, look
like the back of an alligator. He was also admiring Jodie’s dress, she could
tell. Or what was in the dress. “You want a seven or eleven.”

“I
thought a seven was bad?” She frowned, remembering everyone’s disappointment
when the dice had come up seven.

“Seven
or eleven are good only on the first come-out roll,” Kimber explained, putting
a chip on the table in a space labeled “pass” on the green felt.

Jodie
still didn’t understand but she “asked the dice” for a seven or an eleven as
she shook them in her hand and rolled. They bounced down to the end of the
table, hitting the opposite end before coming to a rest on the surface.

“Lucky
seven!”

A
woman down at the end of the table clapped her hands, turning to kiss the man
beside her.

“I
told you!” Kimber squealed and grabbed Jodie’s hand, squeezing hard as the
dealers paid out the bets.

“Do
it again, little lady.” The stick man wrangled the dice down her way.

She
picked them up, making her little wish, and rolled.

“Lucky
seven again! Big red!”

“Dang,
you weren’t kidding!” Lauren exclaimed as the dealers paid out again. “I should
have bet more! I might win back the cost of that dress!”

“I’m
still rolling,” Jodie reminded her with a laugh. More people had joined the
game and were placing bets all over the place. The triplets were really getting
into it, putting lots of chips down. She still didn’t understand what she was
doing, but the even with the noise and confusion, the excitement was kind of
fun.

“Come
out roll!” the stick man said as Jodie tossed the dice to the end of the tub.
“Eight the hard way! Mark the eight! Point is now on the eight!”

Was
that good or bad? Jodie watched him turn over a marker from “on” to “off.”

“Now
you want to roll an eight before you roll a seven,” a voice said low in her
ear.

Her
knees turned to water before she even glanced over her shoulder and saw Mr.
Martini. He reached around her to place two chips, both of them a color she’d
never seen before, one on the “pass” line and another on the “come” line. Lauren
gaped across the way and Jodie looked closer at them, realizing the different
color just meant a different denomination.

They
were each worth five thousand dollars.

Mr.
Martini had just placed a
ten thousand dollar bet.

Now
her hands were shaking even more as the stick man slid the dice in her
direction.

“That’s
ten thousand dollars,” Kimber whispered in her right ear as Mr. Martini set up
his chips—all of them the same color—on the tray in front of him to
her left. The girls all made room and Jodie tried not to look at Lauren, who
was definitely giving them a knowing look.

“An
eight… before a seven?” She gulped, glancing at him and he gave her an encouraging
nod to accompany that drop-your-panties smile.

Jodie
closed her eyes and asked the dice,
please no seven, please no seven,
as
she tossed them to the other end of the table. She didn’t open them again until
she heard the woman at the other end scream.

“Box
cars! The lady rolls a midnight!”

“Was
that good?” Jodie glanced at Kimber, then back at Mr. Martini, confused.

“She
placed a high horn bet,” he explained. “The odds are thirty to one.”

“Bonus
money!” The stick man announced as the dealers started handing out chips. “Pay
the lady fifteen hundred dollars!”

The
lady at the other end of the table beamed. Jodie kind of wished she’d made that
bet, since it was her roll that had won it! Too bad she didn’t have anything to
bet.

“It’s
a sucker bet.” Mr. Martini put chips down behind his on the pass line. She
didn’t want to think about how much money he had on the table. “Embarrassing.”

“I
can do it again.” Jodie looked sideways at him, challenging.

“You
think so?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Okay, pick one of those
numbers. Four, six, eight or ten.”

“Eight.”
She’d already rolled it—it was the “point,” the one she was supposed to
roll before she rolled a seven.

“Five
on hard eight.” Mr. Martini lobbed a chip toward the middle of the table and the
dealer placed the five thousand dollar chip on the eight. “Now, you want to
roll eight the hard way. So if you roll two fours, we win. If you roll a seven,
we lose.”

“Right.”
She tried to keep breathing as the stick man pushed the dice in her direction.
Instead of sliding them close like he had last time, he left them in the “come”
field—a metaphor that didn’t escape Jodie as she reached for them. The
little mustached man watched as she stretched for the dice and she was very
aware of how much cleavage she was showing.

“I
don’t think so.” Mr. Martini took her arm, pulling her back, and Jodie startled
at his touch, seeing his eyebrows raised at the stout little fellow behind the
table. “Don’t short-stick the lady.”

“Short
stick?” Jodie whispered as the mustached man with the curved stick reluctantly
pushed the dice closer, past all the bets on the pass line.

“He
was trying to make you reach,” Kimber murmured on her right. “So he could see
down your dress.”

“Oh.”
Jodie felt her cheeks redden as she picked up the dice, remembering the first
time he’d made her reach for the dice.

“Not
that I blame him,” the man beside her murmured and she felt his hand press
against her lower back, making her spine straighten. She could almost feel him
looking down the front of her dress, but he was the only one who could from his
vantage point. He’d protected her from other men looking, but he didn’t seem to
mind doing it. Or touching, for that matter.

“Hard
eight wins it all,” he reminded her, taking a little step toward her so her hip
rubbed up against him.

“Hard…
eight…” All she could think about was those two fours and the man standing
beside her who smelled delicious and had a distracting, overly familiar hand on
her lower back.

She
closed her eyes and asked the dice to obey. She’d done it before, while playing
Yahtzee. They would be down to the last roll, and all she had left to fill in
was a Yahtzee—five of the same number. All she had to do was close her
eyes and ask. Sometimes she had a flash of a number—a six or a
five—and somehow
knew
those would be the ones that came up. And
sure enough, she’d roll all fives. Sometimes in one roll!

Jodie
asked silently and tossed the dice, waiting for the reaction before opening her
eyes, but she knew from the way his hand moved on her back, sliding down lower
to squeeze her ass.

“Eight!
Pay the field! Hard eight wins!”

The
table erupted in screams. They were drawing quite a bit of attention, people
stopping to watch who weren’t even placing bets—although some of them
were getting in on the game. They were at the most crowded craps table in the
place.

“Well
goddamn.” Mr. Martini swore under his breath as the dealer placed a whole stack
of chips in front of the bet he’d placed on the eight.

“I’m
lucky at dice,” she said, almost apologizing. “I guess a girl’s got to be lucky
at something.”

“That’s
quite lucky.” He chuckled, sliding the chips toward him. “You just won me
forty-five thousand dollars. And that was just on the hard way bet.”

Jodie
couldn’t breathe. She gaped at him.

“I
think a shooter deserves a tip for that!” Kimber remarked boldly. “Don’t you,
Mr. Cole?”

Jodie
blinked at her, confused, until she realized Kimber was talking to Mr. Martini.
Did she know him? How? All of the bachelorette party girls were watching with
interest. The triplets were practically drooling. Lauren couldn’t keep from
grinning, making Jodie remember that surprising kiss from the man beside her.

“I
do indeed.” Mr. Martini—who was apparently Mr. Cole?—called for
change and tipped the stick man and the dealers and then slid a thousand dollar
chip in front of Jodie. The forty-five thousand he’d won on the hard bet he
pushed onto the “pass” line.

“Oh,
no…” Jodie shook her head, pushing the thousand dollar chip back toward him. “I
can’t.”

“Bet
it then.” He nodded toward the table. “You’re the lucky roller, right?”

“Oh,
I still roll?”

“You
roll until you crap out,” Kimber explained. “This time you want to roll for a
seven or an eleven again.”

“Seven
and eleven are good again?” Jodie wrinkled her nose in confusion. “This game is
so complicated!”

A
phone rang and Jodie rolled her eyes, sure it was Jason, but the man beside her
dug into his trouser pocket, pulling out his phone.

“I
need to take this. Hold my place?” he asked the stick man who gave him an
assenting nod. Then the man Kimber had called Mr. Cole dipped his head to
murmur in Jodie’s ear, “I’ll be right back.”

“What
the hell?” Kimber exclaimed as he stepped away from the table, gripping Jodie’s
upper arm so hard it hurt. “Don’t you know who that is?”

Jodie
shook her head but Kimber rushed on.

“That’s
Dorian Cole! He was Forbes’s number two most eligible billionaire bachelor last
year!”

“Number
Two?” Jodie smirked, glancing over her shoulder at the man talking on the phone
just a few feet away. “Who was number one?”