Page 71 of Gambler's Conceit
I roll my eyes. “Do you tell that to all the patrons, or just the ones wasting your boss’s money?” I ask her, my voice more tart than I meant it to be.
She doesn’t seem bothered, though. Her customer service skills are epic, as I’ve seen on more than one occasion, and I doubt my slight irritability even registers with her. “I just mean that maybe you’d have more fun playing something else.”
“I’m not here for the fun. I’m here for the big bucks,” I drawl.
Madeline snorts. “Yeah. The big money you’re making every time you lose to the house.”
I go to make a retort, but a big man in an ill-fitting suit joins me at the table. He sits on the opposite side, glowering at me like I’m there to make his life difficult.
Madeline deals the cards like the professional she is after taking our bets. As usual, I go bust, and I sigh as I put more chips into the pot. She gives me an “I told you so” look, but I only meet her stare with one of my own.
“You dealt wrong,” the surly guy suddenly says.
Madeline turns her attention to him. “Excuse me, sir?”
The guy points at the deck of cards. “I saw you. You were cheating. Changing the order of the cards. Because you knew what was coming, right?”
Madeline keeps smiling, but I notice the crease in her brows. “I can assure you, sir, I didn’t manipulate the cards.” She turns the cards she’s holding over to show him. “See? None of these would have let either of you win.”
The guy’s face gets redder. “No way. The entire deck is rigged. The eight of spades was already played.”
“Sir, there are six decks in play,” Madeline says professionally. “There will always be repeated cards.”
Six decks? No wonder it was so hard to predict whether to keep playing or not. I know Havoc taught me how to calculate the odds even with higher deck counts, but I don’t remember the exact math anymore.
“The Roi de Pique has never used six decks before,” the man replies, slamming his glass down on the edge of the table. “Is that a new policy?”
“No, sir,” Madeline replies.
“How would you know?” he retorts. “You’re brand new, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been working here for four years, sir,” she says, her tone still perfectly polite—even friendly—despite his hostility.
I look around for one of the security staff—hell, I’m even hopingVortexis nearby—but the only employee I see who isn’t already occupied is Caleb’s right-hand man. Grant is heading in our direction already, and I’m not sure whether Madeline has somehow called for him or if it’s just this guy’s lucky day.
It’s definitely not mine.
I sip on my soda, the raised voices getting my hackles up. Thankfully Grant arrives, and the surly guy stops yelling at Madeline.
“What seems to be the issue, sir?” Grant asks. He’s smiling, but there’s something off about the smile.
It sends a chill through me, and I toy with my soda glass, running my finger around the rim as I fidget.
“This fucking bitch was cheating,” the man says, pointing at Madeline.
I notice Madeline rolling her eyes. “It’s blackjack, sir. The house doesn’t need to cheat for people to lose.”
They won’t even cheat to make sure Caleb’spetwins against the house, so I know that far too well.
Grant nods along. “Of course. I’m sure it’s all been a misunderstanding. But if you’re truly concerned about theintegrity of our dealers, might I suggest the Palacio Diamante or the Red Heart?”
The surly man stiffens, and apparently he didn’t consider the possibility that the staff wasn’t going to give him his way.
“You should fire this bitch,” the guy mutters. “She’s playing with six fucking decks.”
Grant’s smile gets even more brittle. “Perhaps the other casinos in the area play with fewer.”
I look between the three of them, shaking my head.