The Player, the Thief and the Broken Heart - Chapter Two - Rekindling the Past

Jeannie stepped into the washroom of The Snake Eyes bar to fix her pony tail. She liked to pull it back tight and high so that the ends would dangle behind her neck. Now that her shift was over, it was time to look good. She had five minutes to get ready and hopefully her makeup would last the ten minutes it took to walk to the Golden Dunes Casino on the strip. For Jeannie, being punctual was not just important; running late for anything rattled her. She'd once read that half of success was showing up on time and she'd always taken it to heart. Not that it had worked for her lately. Anyway, being late for people was just plain rude and being rude was not her way.

Her hand shook a little as she applied a thick line of black liquid eyeliner along each of her eyelids. Next she daubed on a fresh coat of mascara. In the dim yellow lighting it was hard for her to see too many flaws. Right now she wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or a good thing. Outdoors was a different matter. She never could tan and at this time of year, she barely looked like she belonged among the living. Leaning closer to the mirror, she applied a fresh coat of dark red lipstick. Just as she was about to pop the tube back in her purse, her phone rang.

"Hi Rebecca, what's up?" She combed her bangs with her fingers. Time to get them cut soon; they were almost to her eyebrows. As she listened, she caught sight of herself frowning in the mirror. A reminder of how unhappy she'd been lately, though she tried to hide it from everyone. "That's too early. Besides, he hates me now. Never picks up the phone when I call. How many times can I keep trying?"

While Rebecca tried to convince her to show up anyway, Jeannie turned to look at herself from the side. Her black dress was quite plain, with a boat neckline and a flared, knee-length skirt. A little too tight around the chest where she’d screwed up inserting darts. She tried to change her sulk to sultry, and shook her head at herself. Even at twenty-seven, her little-girl face was too round and soft to pull off sexy. Why couldn’t she have sculpted cheekbones like Rebecca.

"Are you listening to me?" Rebecca asked.

"Fine, I'll come. Nine o'clock. Ish."

"So long as you make an appearance, I suppose."

"So long as he doesn't slam the door in my face."

"He won't, I promise," Rebecca said.

Jeannie hung up her phone and dropped it into her purse. Rebecca was scheming, she knew it! The vague reason for getting together, at a spot way out of town no less, and like she didn't know what day it was or where he was living now. Even if he'd tried to cut her out of his life forever, she still kept tabs on him and wondered if some day he'd change both his mind and his ways. Not that it mattered. She was going to show up for his birthday party all right. But she wouldn't be alone. After all, she had her pride which lately had been wounded even more than her heart. Life had a way of knocking a person down as soon as they’d gotten back up.

Steeling herself, she pushed through the door. She snatched her leopard print bolero jacket from the counter behind the bar. "Later guys!" On her way out, she waved to the grizzled bartender and to Frank, who sat alone at a nearby table. They were the only two in the place.

"You working Thursday?" Frank asked.

"As always—see you later!"

Sunlight blinded her as she stepped outside. Day shifts were the worst. It was like getting out of a matinee at the movie theatre; no matter what time it was, she always expected it to be dark out. Already she missed the bar, which was as cool and dark as a cave. At the traffic light, she rummaged in her patent leather purse. She’d forgotten her sunglasses. She checked the time on her cell phone. Five minutes to meet Steve near the Pennies From Heaven section at the Dunes. He said he'd be either at a five-cent video poker terminal, or playing the nickel slots.

The light was still red for her, but no cars were coming. She trotted across the lanes. She tried to keep in what little shade there was as she headed toward Las Vegas Boulevard. The yellow towers for the MGM Casino came into her view, then the tall blue building for Planet Hollywood. Suddenly, she was there.

Golden Dunes wasn't right on the strip and it had been an empty lot since forever until it went up last year. Although it must have been under construction for months, for Jeannie it felt like it had been only days. No matter how many times she passed by, she didn't expect to see a building here. Especially not a swanky resort like the Dunes—the glittering sign and the mosaic of tiny mirrors flanking the entrance made it hard to miss. But that was still less of a surprise than the night before last, when Steve had called her just like that, out of the blue. Looked her up on Facebook after adding a mutual friend. She hadn't seen him since high school and that was ten years ago now.

Her heart went all butterflies on her as she stepped through the glimmering front entrance. A frigid blast of air conditioning hit her, then an explosion of colored lights and dinging slot machines. She put on her jacket, buttoned it at her neck, and clutched her shiny black purse under one arm. An electronic froth of bells chimed and burbled all around her. Mini-siren lights flashing from row upon row promised dreams of instant riches.

In no time, she was lost. Every casino looked the same. Once inside, the only way she could ever tell which building she was in, was by the carpets. This one was fairly modern, with concentric circles in different shades of turquoise and sea-green that she wouldn't mind having at home. The one at the Bellagio always made her dizzy.
"Sorry," she said, bumping into a bored spouse loitering near a change machine. A ginormous Lucky Seven machine floated into her view. She was close.
Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted Steve right where he said he'd be. He was playing an older machine; in this place they were called 'Retro'. He looked like he hadn't moved from there since his phone call last night to let her know he'd arrived and checked in. Still, he was easily as nice-looking as she remembered. Tall and broad-shouldered, with big green eyes, thick dark blond hair, and chiselled features, he could have easily been some Hollywood star or professional athlete. Last she'd heard, he'd gone to Harvard Business School and straight into a career on Wall Street. Why he was wanting to meet up with her, she had no idea. They had less in common than ever.

Too nervous to go straight up to him, she stopped, frozen, about twenty feet away. She watched him pulling the lever like he was powering some heavy mechanical device. His glazed eyes flicked up and settled on her. A grin spread across his face like the rising sun.

He stood.

"Steve!" She skipped up to him and threw her arms around his chest.

"You made it!" He hugged her back, gently, as if he was afraid he might snap her in two. "Up for a drink? I saw a cool-looking lounge on the floor above. They have all these crazy lanterns and hookahs and cushions and stuff straight from Turkey."

"I hope I'm not late," she said, her legs about to buckle out from under her. Up close, he was even cuter. She'd had the worst crush on him in high school and he looked even better now.

He stepped back from her and took her hands in his. "Looking at you now, I'd wait forever." An electric chill surged into her as he led her towards the escalator. He sounded like he really meant it. Sorry Jimmy, she thought, dreading tonight more than ever. Yet he was the one who blew it. No matter how many times she’d called since, he refused to pick up.