||| 89 ||| tip of her tongue. Her lips were cool, and her mouth tasted of tea. She pulled away and sat at arm’s length, just looking at me, a smile on her face. “Go ahead,” she said. “Go ahead?” “Yes.” I reached over and untied her robe. She shrugged it off her shoulders, then unknotted the towel and let her hair fall. I fingered a damp strand and kissed it. “Here’s fine,” she whispered as she settled into the cushion. “Right here.” It was late afternoon when I left. And I had agreed to meet Ben again. 17 Ben answered the door. He smiled and stepped aside for Audie and me. I felt bolder this trip and wondered if Audie could sense a change in me. Did she see herself as the catalyst? Inside was pleasantly cool and less intimidating this time. The hallway smelled of incense, and sunlight glistened on the tile. As I looked again at the paintings on walls and the rugs on floors, I thought of high rollers I’d dealt to, how they lived, steeped in money, luxury, and privilege. Ben walked us to the kitchen and asked if we were hungry. Audie said it was hot outside and a peach or tangerine was fine. Ben methodically pinched several peaches before selecting one. He rinsed it slowly under the faucet and placed it on a plate that he handed to Audie along with a knife and a napkin. He was the kind who put thought into whatever he did, from rinsing fruit to the way he held the plate. “Jude, do you drink coffee?” “How else could I make it through twenty years in the casino?” “French roast or Kenya double A?” “You pick.” I sat with my hands on my lap, feeling foolish. Ben said, “A movie was released a few years back, Jude, The Croupier. Did you see it?” “No.” “British film. Not bad. The dealer hated his job. Did you hate yours?” “Sure, sometimes. Does anyone like dealing?” “A rhetorical question, I assume. But I’ll answer. Some do. Maybe it’s just money they like, or the mindless repetition, or meeting people. Did you like any of it, Jude?” ||| 90 ||| “Punching the time clock on the way out?” Audie looked up from peeling her peach and winked. “When the coffee’s done, we’ll talk a bit and go to work,” Ben said. What work? I thought, and said, “Fine. I guess.” The coffee gurgled to a finish. Ben set out two mugs. As if a parent laying down rules, he said, “Your cut will be 20 percent, no more. You have to prove yourself deserving first.” “Deserving?” His tone troubled me, but I’d come this far and there was Audie to consider. She looked especially seductive as she chewed a slice of peach. Once the coffee was poured, Ben settled on a chair on the opposite side of the table. He stirred sugar in his coffee. “Your father was in the business, right?” “A dealer and later a floorman.” I looked at Audie, who looked away. “I’m guessing you already know this.” “My family was kind of in the business as well,” Ben said. “My father and three others died in an airplane crash between Reno and Carson City in 1963. I was nineteen. They tried to fly into Reno from Vegas in a storm. Hit the side of a mountain. They were the best in the business. Manny could lay down paint or work up a deck with the bend, Glen could string or key any slot machine in the world, and Angie was their rounder, could distract any dealer or a pit boss by tilting her head. Not unlike Audie. You agree, Jude, that she could distract you?” I stirred my coffee and looked at her. She took a bite of peach and looked out the window to where a hummingbird hovered over a feeder. “Yes. She’s distracting.” “Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” she said. “Anyhow,” Ben said, “Dad was on his way to cold-deck Harrah’s at the lake. That was when getting caught meant broken hands or worse. There was risk in doing what they did, but getting in a private plane and tackling a storm to turn a dollar was an unnecessary risk. You wouldn’t take unnecessary risks, Jude, would you?” I was almost ashamed to say it, but I said, “I’ve never taken...