Scrumptious (21 page)

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Authors: Amanda Usen

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Chapter 27

Marlene stepped through the front door of the Niagara Falls Casino and zipped into the nearest bathroom. She dropped her purse on the counter and dug through it for lipstick and a brush. Thankfully, she found both. She had also been lucky to find a pair of old high heels jammed beneath the spare tire in her trunk.

Her hair was in its usual loopy twist, and she pulled it down to her shoulders. She examined her reflection in the brutal fluorescent lighting. The recent highlights had mellowed, and her hair shone with bright colors. She used the brush to rat her hair, making it big, bigger, biggest.

She unzipped her thin hoodie and wrapped it around her waist. She also made sure her skin-tight tank top showed a couple inches of flesh below its hem. Then she tugged until the lacy top-edge of her black bra peeked above the neckline of her tank. With her red lipstick, she’d be all set.

Pole
room, here I come
, she thought.

Anthony had given her directions to the entrance the dancers and cocktail waitresses used, and Marlene hoped anyone she passed in the hallway would think she was arriving to work her shift. Lady luck still loved her because the back hall was empty, and when she slipped through the door marked Employees Only, the first thing she saw was a rack of black uniform aprons and side towels. She reached into the bin.

The door opened behind her and a blond walked in.

“You new?” she asked, grabbing an apron and wrapping it around her tiny waist.

“First night,” Marlene replied, doing the same.

The blond smiled, showing white teeth that were just crooked enough to make Marlene forgive her for her natural blond highlights and perfect breasts. “I’m Daphne.”

Like Marlene, Daphne was wearing a low-cut tank top and heels, but her long legs were bare beneath a short, black skirt. She looked at Marly’s jeans.

“Big Daddy likes skin. You bring a skirt?”

Marlene shook her head.

“I think I’ve got one in my locker. Come on.”

Daphne led her through the short hall into a dark dressing room. She flipped a switch and round stage lights lit the edges of a huge mirror. The counter in front of the long mirror was littered with makeup, hair products, and used tissues. It looked like beauty pageant hell. Daphne crossed to the wall of gym lockers and rummaged around until she came up with a small, shiny piece of black spandex. She tossed it to Marlene. “Try this.”

Daphne was much shorter than she was, but Marlene said, “Thanks,” and kicked off her heels. She shucked her jeans and pulled the skirt over her hips. The damn thing looked like a tube top wrapped around her butt. No more cheesecake. Ever. She was really going to kill Keith when she caught up with him now. Marlene stepped into her heels and tied the short apron around her waist. It helped. A little.

“You good to go?” Daphne asked. “You probably don’t have a time card yet, but we’ll write your hours down at the end of the night. Are you dancing or just cocktailing?”

“Cocktailing.”

“I’ll introduce you to the bartender, and you’ll be all set. Easiest job you’ll ever have. The booze is free, and all the tips are yours.”

In short order, Marlene met the bartender, received an order pad and a tray, and found herself standing in the middle of a strip club with poker tables. Each private table had its own pole, rising above the dealer, who stood at one end. In the center of the room, there was an oval stage where several girls were dancing, some alone, some with each other. Catwalks extended into the playing area, to make sure that there was plenty to watch from every seat in the house. The music kept the girls on the beat and was just loud enough to be distracting. The room was dark, thank God. It was only well lit directly over the tables, and there were plenty of other waitresses working the room, making it easy for Marlene to blend into the crowd.

She spotted Keith sitting at a large table, right in front of the center stage. She drifted closer, winding her way between tables, trying not to make eye contact with any thirsty customers.

The nine other guys at Keith’s table looked sharp and scary, but the burning in Marlene’s stomach eased up considerably when she saw that Keith still had a good pile of chips in front of him. The deed to Chameleon flashed white in the center of the felt table, making her feel sick again.

Marlene spotted Mario, shoulder to shoulder with Rocky, the Italian stallion from Thursday night. Mario’s eyes were locked on the play at Keith’s table. She skirted the table and scanned the room for Mikey. She found him one table over from Keith, directly under a pole.

A rough hand brushed Marlene’s leg. “Hey, I could use a vodka tonic.”

From the look in the guy’s bleary eyes and the pitiful number of chips left in front of him, the guy definitely could not, but she made a note on her order pad and shot an inquiring glance around the table. She wrote the rest of the table’s orders down on her pad and carried them to the bar.

The bar system was simple, and she mastered it quickly. As she returned with the drinks, she noticed Keith was up a little, and that gave her the confidence to pause and examine the table.

Holy crap.

There was at least a hundred thousand dollars in the pot. That would mean the blinds were set at one hundred and two hundred dollars. What the hell was Keith doing? He had to know he was nowhere near the skill level required for that kind of play. She winced as he folded a hand with at least a dozen outs.

Marlene saw Mario shift in the shadows, so she turned her back and leaned down to give the table in front of her a good look down her tank top. She took their order and swung off to the bar again.

After she dropped off the drinks, she approached Keith’s table from the other side and began to study the players. She kept her back to Mario as much as possible. Mikey, she wasn’t worried about. He wasn’t seeing anything but the girl on the pole. All of her.

For the next hour, her ability to multitask served her well. She simultaneously kept tabs on the cards the dealer was laying down on Keith’s table and the cards of whichever player she was passing behind at the moment, if they happened to flash them. She also kept track of what everyone was drinking at the surrounding tables and ferried drinks and empty glasses back and forth from the bar.

Keith’s chip pile was dwindling. He only had about ten grand left, and she knew it was now or never. She had learned as much about each of the other player’s playing styles as she was going to be able to learn before Keith went bust. Her plan was simple to the point of being ridiculous, but it was all she had. It was time to make her move.

She dropped her tray at the bar.

Marlene stopped next to Keith. His eyes caught her short skirt and slid up to her boobs. He began to smile. When his eyes reached above her neck, however, his grin slid off his face like a fried egg out of a Teflon pan.

Marlene leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I had hoped to find you with a couple of broken bones. I’m disappointed.”

“I was winning,” Keith shot back. “I’m good at this. I’m up and down, but I go home with money every night.” He glanced at his chips. “I don’t know what happened. I’ll get it back.”

“You got set up, dumb ass,” she said. “You don’t belong in this kind of game. Not to mention the fact that you stole from your wife to get the money to play. What the hell are you doing with the deed to Chameleon?”

“I grabbed it the day I got my stuff out of the office.” He flushed. “I was pissed that Olivia was kicking me out like the trash and replacing me with Rafferty. I wasn’t planning to do anything with it.”

“Then why did you put it on the table, Keith? Chameleon is worth way more than fifty grand, even if you’re only signing over your half.”

“Shut up, Marlene. You don’t know what’s going on. I’m having a bad night, that’s all. I’ll get it back.”

“Keith, you suck at poker. If you were winning before, then they were letting you win. I know they were letting you win. This isn’t just a game anymore. You have to stop. Get up.”

Marlene could feel Mario and his hunky henchman heading toward them. She glanced behind her. Mikey was on the move now too. An old man detached from the shadows and began to slowly make his way through the tables using a hand-carved cane.

Keith clutched his cards to his chest and looked up at Marlene. For once, she saw an emotion in Keith’s eyes that didn’t piss her off.

Fear.

“I can’t stop,” he whispered urgently. “Capozzi found out about the restaurant. He’s coming after Olivia. He’s got half his damn family working at Chameleon already. I saw them when I came in the other night. That’s the only reason I took the money from the overdraft. But it wasn’t enough. This game is my only chance to get it all back. I never meant for it to go this far. Olivia was a lousy wife, but she didn’t deserve this.”

Mario, Mikey, and Rocky boxed Marlene in against the table. They didn’t say anything. They were waiting for the old man. Marlene felt a shiver go up her spine. She stiffened her shoulders and glared down at Keith. The double doors to the pole room swung open wide, drawing every eye in the room except hers. She didn’t have to look up to know it was Joe. She could feel him.

Marlene kept her eyes on Keith. “What the hell do you mean Olivia was a lousy wife?”

“She works all the time. Olivia doesn’t need a husband. She needs a business partner.”

“That was supposed to be you, asshole.”

Keith jumped to his feet, knocking his chair back, but Marlene didn’t flinch. The Italians, however, took a step toward Keith, and her estimation of her enemies went up a bare notch.

Keith put his hands on his hips. “No, Marlene, that was supposed to be you. You and Olivia think you’re so smart, but neither one of you ever figured that one out. Jesus, it’s been driving me nuts for years. Her parents wanted you two to run the restaurant together, but Olivia brought me home and ruined everything. Believe me, if I’d known what I was getting into, I would have run like hell. Who can compete with you? Jesus, you could leave a guy some pride, you know?”

Joe and the old man reached the table at the same time, and the Italians parted ranks to make room for them.

Joe took Marlene’s side. “Step back, Watson,” he growled.

Keith grudgingly took one step back.

“Things are certainly getting exciting at this table,” Big Daddy Capozzi said mildly. His low voice held an Italian accent and the wake of a thousand cigars. He kept his dark eyes on Marly and Joe. “Who have we got here? Where’s Antonio?” His boys shrugged.

Marlene and Joe faced off with what was now a veritable army of Italian men. She saw Nikki at the edge of the crowd, making her way toward Keith.

“We’re here for Chameleon,” Joe said.

“Mr. Watson owes me a hundred thousand dollars,” Big Daddy offered.

“I heard fifty,” Joe countered.

“Interest.” Big Daddy’s slight shrug was eloquent. Take it or leave it.

Joe eyed the old man. Neither man wavered.

“Done,” Joe finally agreed.

Marlene gasped.

“One condition.” The old man held up a hand. “You keep Antonio. He’s not happy here. Maybe you make him the next Giorgio Locatelli or Mario Batali. I could use a guy in TV.” Big Daddy pointed at Keith. “We’ll keep him. My granddaughter likes him.” Another elegant shrug.

Joe nodded again. His eyes touched on Marlene before he turned to Keith. “That means you too, Watson, that’s it. You’re finished. Get it? Done playing poker. Done with Olivia. Done with the restaurant. It’s mine now,” Joe growled.

Panic shredded Marlene.

What was going on here? Who the hell did Joe think he was, swanning in here and going all man-to-man with Big Daddy Capozzi? She had come here to save the restaurant, and by God, she’d do it.

“No way!” She stepped in front of Keith and wheeled around to face Joe. “This isn’t your problem, Joe. Chameleon is
my
life. I’ll take the risks. You keep your money for California.” She stepped in front of Keith’s spot at the table and shifted her focus to the old man with the cane. “Bring it on, Big Daddy.”

“Sorry, no chip transfers.” The dealer was bald and meaty. He also spoke with the rich, Italian accent.

“You boys afraid of a little girl?” she drawled, looking around the table. The men shrugged. They didn’t look afraid of anything. Particularly her.

Joe grabbed her arm. “I’m not leaving, Marlene. I don’t want to go to California anymore,” he said.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Now Joe’s misplaced hero-rescue complex was working overtime. She pulled her arm away from him, refusing to process the concept of Joe staying in Norton. “What about your dream job?”

“Dreams change. I like what I’m doing now.”

“Having a couple bucks doesn’t mean you can muscle in on my life,” she told him. “We had a good time together, but I’m not looking for anything serious. If I gave you any other impression, I’m sorry.”

“You think you can go back to all your boyfriends at the bar and be happy again?” Joe asked.

She scowled at him.

“They’re not what you want anymore,” Joe said. “I’m what you want. Go ahead and play poker, but it’s not going to change anything.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” she said.

“Nope. I’ve found my heart. Don’t send me away again, Marlene, and don’t run away from me either. Try something new this time. Give me a reason to stay.”

“No.” Marlene took a deep breath. “I’m not doing this. I need to concentrate.” She sat down at the table and threw a defiant look at anyone who might dare comment with so much as a dark, tilted eyebrow. “Go away, Joe.”

“Do we still have a deal?” Big Daddy asked Joe.

She felt Joe’s eyes on her. “No,” he said. “Sorry, but I guess I’m out.”

She felt him walk away from the table. Marlene disguised her anguish with her poker face, but not quite fast enough.

“You want us to go get him for you?” Big Daddy’s smile was sly, but his eyes were kind as he moved toward Marlene.

“No. Thank you,” she added.

The man to her right scrambled to his feet and Big Daddy sat down carefully, heavily. He propped his cane on the edge of the table. “I watched you work my room, little girl.” Big Daddy settled his back into his chair and gave the dealer the signal to continue play. His dark eyes gleamed. “Now, let’s see how you play my game. Bring it on indeed,” he said, with a rough chuckle.

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