The Strip Ch. 08

This is a rewrite of 'Vegas', combining both Books. While maintaining the theme, it offers a completely different and fresh take for the main characters.

Grateful thanks go to the best editor in the world -- thesoundandfury - not only for his editing, but also for the constant encouragement, suggestions, and for helping me to become a better writer.

Chapter 8: Grace becomes an angel

"The strawberries are delightful," Rosie grinned, pulling the fluffy white robe more tightly around her body. The seat next to the breakfast table in the corner of his room gave her an excellent view down West Flamingo road and, when she stretched her neck far enough, onto the Strip.

Even though it was heading for half ten in the morning, the sharp rap of Room Service had woken her less than twenty minutes earlier. The quick shower had refreshed her, since when she'd worked her way through the various fruits that had accompanied the fried breakfast.

"D'you always eat this much?" Daniel laughed, finishing a second slice of toast.

"I'm a fruit fiend," she grinned at him, the adorable freckles on her face highlighted by the late morning sun streaming in through the window.

"And fruit juice," he told her, as she poured her third tall glass.

Rosie's only response was another wide grin as she dunked another strawberry into the orange juice and sexily sucked it into her mouth. "You should eat more fruit," she told him, holding up the stalk.

"Kinda difficult when you're in the room," he said, with that lopsided smile. "I blinked and suddenly it's all gone."

"Not all," she smiled, holding up the final strawberry. "I've kept the juiciest one for you. Want it?" The little giggle she gave as she leaned forward was almost as sexy as the way the front of the robe fell open to display her cleavage. "Whoops," she grinned, pulling the robe tight, "it's only the strawberry I was offering. For now…"

"Shame," he laughed, standing up and stooping towards her outstretched hand.

"By the way," she grinned, teasingly pulling the strawberry just out of reach. "Thank you for not taking advantage of me last night."

"It was real difficult," he smiled, dropping his hands to his hips as he straightened up. "Fought with myself all night."

Her soft laugh rewarded his humour. "Well, here's your reward," she told him, stretching out and allowing him to take a small bite of the strawberry, then another. There was something sexy about taking it from her fingers. "Told you they're good," she seductively murmured, twirling the stalk between her fingers.

"It certainly is," he smiled, running his tongue across his lips to clean the lingering juice. "Especially served that way."

The redhead's face turned serious for the first time that morning. "You left your poker early to rescue me," she told him. "I'll never forget that."

Daniel looked wistfully at her as she picked up the glass of juice. Since she'd raised the issue, maybe now was the time to bring it up? "Rosie, how come you were there last night?"

For a few seconds, her face took on a pained expression. How to explain? "It's my job," was all she could find to say as she shrugged her shoulders.

"Job?" he responded. "What sort of life is that for you? I don't understand—is all this by choice or because of the debts you told me about?"

She pushed a bang of hair over her ear. It wasn't going to be as easy to run away from this conversation, as it was to escape last night. "Confession time, eh?" she asked, with a deep sigh. "Well, I guess I owe you that, Daniel."

The young man shook his head. The last thing he wanted to do was put pressure on her. Last night had been horrific enough. "You don't owe me a thing, Rosie," he softly told her, reaching across the small table to pat the back of her hand. "But I'd like to hear if you want to tell me."

"I owe you a lot," she contradicted him, sitting back in the padded chair and pulling the robe tighter around herself. Maybe she should just rip it off and fuck him, right? That's what she was good at. But it wasn't the answer right now. Face up to it, she told herself, forcing herself to add, "and I'd like to tell you."

The redhead eased herself up from her seat as if her body was aching. It was the pain in her mind that made her movements cumbersome. She stood walked across to the door to the bathroom, pausing before retracing her steps and flopping back down in her seat.

Elbows on her knees, head on her hands, the second long sigh calmed her down. Enough for her to begin her tale, at least. She straightened up so that she could stare into Daniel's eyes and watch his reaction to her words. When he heard her story, this might well be the last time she saw him.

"Okay," she began, more to tell herself she could do this. "I arrived in Vegas around nine months ago. The usual plans of finding a glamorous job and making a name for myself. Like a million other girls. Pretty quickly, I realised there weren't the sort of promotional jobs I had in mind. Or rather, I couldn't earn a living that way. That's when I got a job at Midnight Hot. As an exotic dancer."

Daniel sat impassively, his only movement being the encouraging smile that told her this was all right. He wasn't judging. This girl was opening her heart to him and he was becoming more enamoured with her, with every difficult word she told him. He allowed the pause to pass without comment.

"Then I met Charlie. We've been… were… together for around six months. I thought it was love, but it was more infatuation. He was attractive, outgoing—a successful gambler, or so he said. At first, that seemed terribly exciting." The next pause allowed her to hold back the tears forming behind her green eyes. "It wasn't. Vegas is full of people who think they can find a shortcut to becoming rich. They can't. Charlie turned out to be just another deadbeat gambler who threw his money away, and then lost mine, too."

Her upraised hand stopped Daniel as he half stood when the first tear rolled down her cheek. "Don't," she told him, her voice rising and then softening again. "I have to finish!"

The crinkly haired young man sat down again immediately. He wasn't going to deny her the space she needed. This story had to come out.

"When he lost his money," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "he said he'd stop gambling. When he used my savings to pay off his losses, he promised he would never gamble again. When he persuaded me to give 'extras' at the club to stop the loan sharks coming after him, he said we'd be able to start a new life together."

"Extras?" Daniel interrupted, unable to stop himself from asking the question.

For the first time, her gaze left his. Silence filled the air until she began again, though it took several more sighs before she could. "With customers, Daniel. Or clients—as Big Eddie calls them. It pays three times what I get dancing. If I fuck a customer, it triples my pay. Get it?"

Her voice rose with each word until she almost shouted out the final words. He didn't speak. It didn't change his view of her, but he needed to hear everything she had to tell him. "Go on," he told her, his smile of encouragement trying to tell her that all of this was okay.

The words rapidly left her lips now, her face angry as she spat them out. "Charlie said I'd only need to do it until he paid off the extra five thousand he owed. He'd never go near a casino again! So I did what he asked. Then the bastard went gambling yet again. Lost more, and left me with his debts. So now I owe Eddie, and if I don't work it off… I can't even begin to tell you…"

Suddenly, it was too much—

Once the first sob started, others quickly followed. Daniel ignored the upraised hand this time and covered the distance between them in an instant. Dropping to his knees, he held the crying woman for a long time, stroking her ruffled red hair until her sobbing lessened and eventually died.

"There," she blubbered, wiping her face on the arm of her robe. "That's it. Still pleased you rescued me?"

"Of course," he instantly answered, taking her face in his hands so he could hold her gaze. He planted a soft kiss on her lips. "Let's make a deal," he gently told her, "You don't judge me as a deadbeat poker player, and I won't judge you as anything over than a beautiful woman in trouble!"

Rosie's frightened eyes fixed on his. "And you're my knight in shining armour?"

Daniel grinned, wiping the wetness from her cheeks with his thumbs. "It's my speciality. Didn't you know?"

***

"So," Norman Chad began, covering the sausage with a sticky combination of mustard and ketchup, "how come you wanted to have breakfast with me, and where's Daniel?"

"I've no idea," Holly sighed, wondering the same thing. After bagging his chips last night, she'd expected to see her friend this morning and find out what was going on. "I'm not his keeper," she spit out, her irritated tone telling him to back off. She watched the diminutive poker commentator devour the sausage in three quick bites. "Wipe the ketchup from your chin," she told him, curling her mouth in a mixture of distaste and amusement. "Not attractive!"

Chad gave that little cackle of his. "Deeeeelicious, though…"

Rolling her eyes, the blonde got down to business. "Norm, I hope this is going to be a five minute wonder thing, but have you seen the number of photographers around. It's getting a bit silly, don't you think?"

"And the problem with that is?" the little man grinned, sweeping up the juices on his plate with a half piece of toast.

The blonde paused for a second. What could she say? Because I'm an assassin and can't afford for my photo to be seen in case I'm recognised when on a job? "Norm, on one hand the attention is nice, of course it is," she explained, going for the diplomatic approach. "But the reality is I'm just a normal girl, I like my privacy. I don't want cameras pushed in my face whenever I move."

"There are worse things," Chad said, getting to work with a second slice. "Don't take this the wrong way, but maybe you should dress frumpy and start to wear a bra?" A mouthful of coffee washed down the toast.

Holly's frown shook off the disguised compliment. "That I can cope with, Norm. It's this thing with Daniel and I."

"Ah, yes," he slurped, draining the rest of his coffee and waving for a refill. "The English lovers." Despite the scowl that crossed her face, the little man continued. "True or not, you've got to admit it's a great story."

The blonde leant across the table. "I don't want the story," she firmly said, as if saying the words would make it happen. "Neither does Daniel. The point of meeting you for breakfast this morning is to ask you get the press of our backs. You're influential, Norm. What can you do?"

"Me? Influential?" he squeaked, smiling at the approaching server. "What can I do?" he shrugged, playing hard to get as the older woman refilled their cups.

"Don't give me that," she muttered through clenched teeth. "You know people, Norm. Help us and we'll give you exclusive interviews whenever you want."

The diminutive man nodded, thoughtfully stroking his chin. "Interesting proposition," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "But I suppose marriage is out of the question?"

***

With Daniel already at the Rio's poker tables, it was the perfect time to meet Carly. The spiky haired woman's suggestion that they should have an early lunch wasn't ideal, particularly after all that mid morning breakfast fruit. But it was a small price to pay for seeking her new friend's advice.

"Another drink, ma'am?" the young Japanese waiter who appeared at her table politely asked.

"No, thank you," she smiled, glancing down at her empty martini glass. Alcohol probably wasn't a good idea, not when she was building herself up for her conversation with Big Eddie. But then again, it was probably just what she did need. "Wait…" she told the departing young man. "Yes… sorry… I'll have the same again."

Carly couldn't be far away. She'd make the second martini her last. What time was it anyway? Damn, her watch had stopped again!

Her thoughts bounced back to Daniel. The Englishman was never far from her mind. He was so different to anyone she'd previously met. When he'd suggested she take the day off and watch him play poker, it had been difficult to keep a straight face. Her opinion of the sexy young man improved with every meeting, but her feelings about poker players remained.

She could think of a thousand better ways to spend time rather than wasting hours in a casino, even for an event as prestigious as this one.

But she was going to take up his offer to stay with him tonight, again. No strings attached, he'd said. God, she loved that shy lopsided smile of his. And tonight would be the night. After recent experiences, she needed to make love, rather than be fucked. The Englishman was the perfect man for the job!

Before that… she had to face Big Eddie.

The thought felt like a dose of cold water had been poured over her. God knows how he'd react when she told him she was finishing at the club. Maybe he'd insist on the debt being immediately repaid? Could he do that? Whatever he insisted, she'd find a way to stand up to him—her mind was made up. The happenings of last night had ensured that.

She hadn't slept well, not until the early hours. There were several occasions when she almost woke the Englishman. The private party had left her aroused and, despite her session with the two men, strangely unfulfilled. But she'd held back. Instead, she'd considered her future as she'd stared up at the dark ceiling.

Whatever it held, she was finished with prostitution. Exotic dancing, too. She'd find more promotional work, work as many hours as were necessary to eventually repay her debt. Charlie's debt—the bastard! Before that confrontation, she'd advice from the girl approaching her table on the best way to approach Big Eddie.

"Hey, sorry!" Carly gushed, handing her denim jacket to the waiter as she approached the redhead. "Got delayed. But good to see you, honey."

"You, too," Rosie replied, standing up to accept the brunette's hug and warm kisses on each cheek. "Thanks for meeting me, Carly. This is quite a place."

The spiky haired woman looked around. "Yeah, I love the Osaka Japanese Bistro. Great food and we get to eat for free. I know the owner!" Her wink confirmed the meaning behind the remark. "Get to know the right people and fuck them silly," she continued, shuffling into the small booth, "and you can practically live for free in Vegas. Want me to introduce you around?"

"No!" The vehemence of Rosie's response surprised both women and Carly burst out laughing at the shocked look on the redhead's face. "Rosie, Rosie," she admonished, "If you let me teach you, girl, I could corrupt you good and proper!"

The redhead laughed again. She had no doubt about Carly's ability to show her the wild side. Maybe that's why she enjoyed the spiky haired woman's company so much, the sense of adventure and the fact they were so different.

"I'll have one of those," the newcomer told the waiter, pointing at Rosie's drink as he approached their table. "Want another, honey?"

Rosie shook her head. "Maybe with the meal. I need your advice." She waited until the young waiter left them before leaning closer to her friend. "I'm going to see Big Eddie later," she confessed, her voice dropping to a quiet lilt. "I've had enough, Carly. I'm… I'm quitting the club."

The brunette's jaw dropped. "You're shitting me?!? Why?"

"This life isn't for me," the redhead answered, her face betraying all the emotions floating around in her mind. "I need a fresh start, Carly. Particularly as Charlie's got himself of my life. And—"

"And?" The brunette's brain suddenly kicked into gear. "You've met someone, haven't you?" Rosie's bashful eyes gave the game away. "Geez, you're a fast worker! Spill the beans, honey!"

"I will," Rosie answered, her smile slowly broadening to hit the corners of her lips. "Over lunch. I like this guy, Carly, but I've no idea if it'll go any further than that. But with or without him, one of the things he's made me realise is that I'm not cut out for this lifestyle."

The spiky haired woman took her drink from the waiter. "Two more," she told him. "I have a feeling we're going to need them. "Nice ass," she murmured, turning back to the redhead with a wide smile. "I might get his number later."

Rosie shook her head, but as she started to respond, Carly was talking again.

"You're wrong you know, Rosie. You are cut out for this. Watching you dance on stage, seeing you around other men—you come alive, honey. Think carefully about what you're going to do, this is what you were made for. You and I are much more alike than you think!"

Rosie's confused face stopped her mid argument. "Carly—" the redhead began.

The brunette reached out to take hold of the redhead's hand. "Okay, honey. We'll leave that for now. Let's order our food, then you can tell me everything about what's been happening—"

***

Daniel was suffering at the table. It was the same as his first day. Without cards or luck, it was difficult to repel the aggressive young bucks. One big pot, when he'd flopped the nut flush, had been the sole reason he'd maintained his chip stack. But standing still wasn't good enough. Everything had gone his way in the Binion's tourney. So far, little had gone for him in the Main Event.

At least he was taking it on the chin. All around him were a succession of bad tempered moans. And this time it wasn't only the amateurs. Phil Hellmuth was right in the thick of it. The so-called Poker Brat had been at Daniel's table for the last hour and his verbal attempts to bully everyone was having the usual, predictable outcome.

Making himself seem like an idiot.

The subject of his latest outburst was a youngster to his left. The kid had gone all-in with Ace-Jack and Hellmuth had naturally called with Ace-King. When the young Scandinavian spiked a Jack on the river, Hellmuth's explosion of expletives lasted a good five minutes. As he looked around for sympathy, he spotted Mike Matusow, despite there being two tables between them.

"Worst players in the world around here, Mikey," he shouted. "I make world class traps and these guys fall into them, then suck out on the river. Unbelievable!"

Daniel smiled to himself as Hellmuth went on yet another walkabout. Get involved in the Poker Brat's rants and he'd be diverted from his own game. Which was part of Hellmuth's strategy, of course. But the Englishman was well aware of his own perilous position. Focus, he told himself. Focus!

Unfortunately for all within earshot, the next hand Hellmuth hit Big Slick again. After a long pause, he chose to lay it down when the youngster went all-in. When Hellmuth folded and showed his cards, the kid flipped over pocket threes.

"Hey, Mikey, this idiot went all-in with pocket threes," he screeched. "Unbelievable! Pocket threes! These people can't even spell poker, let alone play it."

Heading over to the rail, he found his wife. "Honey, this is unbelievable. No one here understands the game the way I do—"

She gave him the same advice as she did just about every tournament. "You've got to let it go, Phil," she told him. "Just let it go."

Daniel wiped it from his mind. His own tourney was on the line.

***

Today's shoot would be shorter than the previous two days. "A few finishing touches," Kay told Lauren. "A few shots of you with Rach and Jimmy, that's all. A different perspective. Then you and I are free to talk about the future."