Fever

“The casino restaurant? That’s a five-star restaurant. Doesn’t that get expensive after a while?”

“Not when all your meals are on the house.”

She frowned as she began cutting the large spinach leaves. Something about this was not adding up. “Is that a usual perk of the job?”

“Probably not, but neither is the apartment suite I have on the tenth floor.” He chuckled, thinking nothing of the life he took for granted.

Bobby Kincaid had been his father’s best friend from the time they were boys. Every memory of every special occasion in Ike’s thirty-four years of life included Uncle Bobby standing before him with a gift-wrapped package. So, when Ike left the police force and Bobby offered him the gift of a beautiful apartment suite in his casino resort and a job, Ike accepted it as his birthright. No one had ever questioned it until now.

When he looked up again, Roxie had stopped eating, and was watching him with suspicious eyes. “Who are you?”

“What are you talking about?” Ike watched her expressive face shift between fear and anxiety.

“Why would Bobby Kincaid give an apartment to a security guard?”

“I’m not a security guard. I’m the head of the casino security task—”

“You say potato, I say patata—answer the question!”

“Bobby Kincaid is my godfather.” He watched her face, trying to understand why this was so important to her.

“Your godfather?”

Ike had a suspicion confirmed. It wasn’t him she was afraid of, it was Bobby. But why? This couldn’t be about what happened the other night. She’d never even met Bobby, so why was she so scared?

“I know how difficult counting cards can be, and you made it look like a walk in the park.” Ike spoke suddenly, trying to change the subject and get her mind off of whatever it was about Bobby that was troubling her so. “Hell, half the time it didn’t even seem as if you were paying attention to the table.”

Bobby Kincaid’s godson. She shrugged, and stabbed at a large hunk of lettuce. “It’s not that difficult when you have a photographic memory.”

Ike’s mouth spread in a smile of appreciation, and he paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Photographic memory?” His eyes drifted across the table as his mind took in this new information. “That explains a lot.” He finished chewing, reached for a stick of bread from the basket in the center of the table, and took a bite from the end.

He thought about the heated words exchanged in his office, and he couldn’t help feeling as if he’d been handled by her. Despite all the subtle threats and innuendoes he’d thrown at Roxie, she’d known all along that she was never in any real danger. He looked at the woman across the table from him. “So, how long have you been a professional hustler?”

Roxie sat back in her chair. She’d been watching his face the entire time, and knew long before his mouth open that something nasty was going to come out. “You probably think that is an insult.”

“It’s certainly not a compliment,” he mumbled.

“I guess that depends on who you ask.” Her brown eyes narrowed until they were just slits of topaz fire. “Anyway, I’m not a hustler. At least, not anymore.”

“But you once were?”

“When I was a kid.”

He gave her a disbelieving look.

“Really. I used to hustle cards when I was a kid.”

He smirked. “With that memory of yours, you just couldn’t resist the urge, huh?”

She finished chewing a bit of salad. “Actually, it was more the urge to eat.”

He frowned thoughtfully, beginning to understand.

“I was homeless.” She pointed her fork at him. “Although, I must admit it was by choice. I could’ve stayed in the state girls’ home they put me in after my grandmother died, but that really wasn’t the place for someone small and innocent.” Her eyes flashed to his. “Trust me, I’d been there before.”

Ike listened in silence, seeming not to know what to say.

“My mother left me there when I was five. It was hell,” she said softly, putting all her attention into the small salad. “My grandmother found me, and three years later she died and I was back in there again. But I knew from day one I wouldn’t stay. I thought I stood a better chance on my own, and I was right.”

She felt her hands trembling as she buttered a roll. Why was she telling this man all her personal information? It was not like her. But deep inside her heart, she knew the truth. Some part of her desperately wanted Ike’s approval, his understanding. But why? He was Bobby Kincaid’s godson. Not exactly a neutral third party, and the last man she should’ve trusted.

She wanted him to understand she was not a thief by nature, but by necessity. “But I haven’t done anything like that in years, at least not until last night. And that I did for personal reasons.”

Ike quietly ate, taking in all she’d said. He tried to imagine what life must’ve been like for her. But even with his jaded experiences, he could not contemplate living on the street at so young an age.

“Must think I’m pretty pathetic, huh? Once a thief, always a thief, right?”

“No.” He wiped his mouth. “I’m not exactly the one to throw stones. Considering I was reared by a pair of number runners.”

Her head snapped up. And he saw something like hope in her eyes. “Really?”

He saw the light of recognition on her face and knew he’d managed to lift her a little. “Just how do you think Bobby Kincaid came to be my godfather?”

“Hadn’t really thought about it.”

“He and my dad use to hang tight back in the day. There are both legit now, but I can remember…”

Roxie forced herself to look deep into his eyes, and was glad she did when she found no judgment there.

“Sometimes, when a person feels there is no way out…they’ll make a way.” He shrugged. “Desperate people do desperate things.”

He understands. Roxie felt her heart skip a beat sensing some unspoken kinship.

“Okay.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Tell me about these personal reasons.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s no one’s business but my own. Hence the word personal. Ask me something else.”

“Okay, why the Desert Rose?”

Roxie swallowed hard, and took a sip from her wineglass. “Why not the Desert Rose? Everyone knows it’s one of the most profitable casinos off the strip.”

“Then you had to know, as well, that the Desert Rose has a reputation for dealing harshly with people who are caught cheating.”

She laughed and gestured to the room around them, indicating the soft music and comfortable atmosphere. “I can see that. If I’d known this was how you dealt with my type, I would’ve visited you a long time ago.”

Ike smiled, unable to deny her good humor. “Okay, point taken. But I don’t consider you in that category. After all, you didn’t actually take anything.” He held up a finger. “Speaking of which, why didn’t you take it? You had almost…what? Twenty, thirty Gs, sitting on the table. I couldn’t prove anything, so why did you run?”

“I didn’t run!”