nodded at her machine. “You like poker?”
She peeked over at him, her blue eyes a pretty contrast to the tortoiseshell glasses. “To be honest, I’m just learning to play.”
“That would explain why you threw away the chance for a straight flush.”
“Odds are I’m not going to get it.”
He bobbed his head in a sort of agreement. “Yeah, but when the machine gives you four cards in a row in the same suit and you have two open ends, your odds go up.”
“Odds are odds.”
“What are you? An accountant?”
She glanced over at him. “Yes.”
He remembered the little stock seminar and felt like an idiot for not realizing that. He knew she was educated but he’d never thought a society girl would pick such a practical major. Her dad only talked about her charities. He’d made her sound like a sort of helpless Southern belle though they lived in upstate New York.
“You’re like a CPA?”
“I am a CPA.”
Her machine gurgled the music of a lost game and she hit a few buttons to make her bets and start the next game. Cards appeared on the screen. She threw away two twos.
His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”
“Two twos don’t pay out.”
“No. But three of a kind does. So does two pair. Starting off with two twos you have a good chance of getting another two or another pair and both of those hands pay.”
“Chump change.”
He laughed. “What?”
“I want to win. I don’t just want to keep playing.”
That was a weird strategy if ever he’d heard one. And he’d certainly heard his share in Monaco. “Who taught you that?”
“The guy who was sitting beside me on Sunday night.”
“He was a professional gambler?”
“No. He manages a couple fast-food restaurants.”
“And you thought this made him a genius poker player?”
She tossed her hands in the air. “Hell if I know.”
He scooted over to get closer to her. He’d take this opportunity to become her friend and eventually she’d spill the story. He could sympathize and in a few minutes they’d be in his rental, heading for the airport.
“Okay, look.” He pointed at the ranking of hands. “See this list here? This is what pays out and how many points.”
“I know that.”
“If you have a pattern that you use all the time, the machine will become accustomed to it and use that against you.”
Her pale blue eyes narrowed.
“If you only go for what seems like a sure thing, it will set you up so that you keep getting those opportunities, then never give you the cards you need to make the hands, so that you lose all your money.”
“Oh.” She thought about that a second. “I should shake it up? Not play the same way all the time.”
“Exactly. But on another trip.” Now that they were friends, or at least friendly, they could talk about her wedding in the car. “Right now, we need to get you home.”
She looked over at him. “We have to leave this very second? What’s a few more hands going to hurt? I just want to try out what you told me.”
He’d expected a bit of a protest. Maybe an argument. But getting her to think about her fiancé must have caused it to sink in that she had to take responsibility for what she’d done. She hadn’t even blinked when he mentioned leaving.
He caught her gaze and saw a muddle of emotions in her blue eyes. Sincerity? Regret? Or maybe fear? She wasn’t exactly returning to a celebration.
A twinge of guilt rippled through him for pushing her. The least he could do was teach her some strategies.
“Okay. A few hands.”
“And you’ll show me what to do?”
“Sure.”
He didn’t know how it happened, but a couple of hands turned into forty minutes of playing, which put them behind the eight ball. Though she’d seemed to have had a good time and was definitely a quick study, the fun had to end now.
“Okay. That’s it now. Time to go.”
She hit the button to cash out and got the little slip that told her she had thirty-eight dollars coming.
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Thirty-eight dollars.” She caught his gaze. “Hardly seems worth it.”
“Most people who gamble enjoy the game.”
“Really? Because I’ve seen video poker games that are handheld. Our cook, Martha, has a ton of them. It’s how she fritters away time waiting for doctor appointments or bread to rise.”
He shrugged. “People enjoy the game.”
“Yes, but she doesn’t spend money playing. She owns her handheld machines and can enjoy anytime she wants.”
He sighed.
“If it’s all about playing a game, enjoying a game, why not just buy the game? Why involve betting?”
“Are you trying to ruin Vegas for me?”
She laughed. “No. I mean, come on. If playing the game is the attraction and not gambling, why not just use a handheld poker game?”
This time his sigh was eloquent. “Do not ruin Vegas for me.”
“I’m not ruining it. I’m just pointing out that your argument doesn’t hold water.”
“You’re a stickler for logic.” And obviously so was her fiancé. Anybody who’d have a ten-point plan to fix their canceled wedding had to be logical. Was that how they’d ended up together? Two people who were so much the same it seemed inevitable that they get married?
“I am a stickler for logic. So sway me. Why do you really come to casinos?”
He looked into her eyes again and saw the quiet remnants of pain, even though she was very good at pretending she was fine. If talking about himself made her comfortable, calm enough that she’d be compliant through their trip, then so be it.
He shrugged. “I come to Vegas for the people,
