Page 72 of Gambler's Conceit
The asshole looks at me, demanding, “You have an opinion?”
“I have plenty of opinions,” I retort. “Like the fact that you’re a dick who needs to stop harassing people while they’re trying to work.”
I catch Madeline’s wince, and the surly man’s expression turns darker.
“Yeah? You want to say that to my fist, you little shitstain?” he says, taking a threatening step toward me.
Grant steps between me and the man. “Sir, if you get violent, we will be forced to call the authorities on you.”
That threat finally gets through to the man. He curses and flips us off. “Fuck all of you. I’m going to tell everyone that the Roi de Pique cheats.”
Then he storms off, and I can finally breathe a sigh of relief.
“Thanks,” Madeline says to Grant.
Grant turns to her, and that smile from earlier is completely gone. “What the fuck, Maddy? You told a fucking guest how many decks we use? I should fire you just for that.”
“I’m sorry, Grant,” she says, using that professional customer service voice with him. “It won’t happen again.”
“Damn right it won’t,” Grant snaps at her. “Forget blackjack. I’m putting you back on drinks service. For the slot machine guests.”
Madeline’s mouth parts in shock. “What? I’m a dealer. Agooddealer. I don’t do drinks.”
Grant sneers at her. “You will if you want to keep your job at all. You can’t even fucking appease an angry guest. You’re useless at the tables.”
“She’s not useless,” I interject. “He was just an asshole.” I glance at Madeline. There’s so much more I want to say, but she gives a silent shake of her head that only has me more furious. I grit my teeth, trying not to say what I’m thinking.
It’s fine. I’ll just tell Caleb later and get her back on the tables.
Grant turns to me now. “Who the fuck asked you? What are you even doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be locked up in Caleb’s bedroom?”
My cheeks flush, and I resist the urge to look at Madeline. “No,” I snap. “I’m his boyfriend, not his fucking slave.”
Well.
That’s not true at all, but he doesn’t need to know that—or tell anyone else what I really am.
“Maybe he should gag you, then,” Grant says. “Go suck somebody’s cock. That’ll be more useful than running your mouth here.”
“You’re just jealous because I won’t suck yours,” I retort.
Madeline is looking between the two of us like she desperately wants to be anywhere but here. I don’t blame her one bit, but I’m not backing down.
Grant makes a disgusted face. “I wouldn’t want a whore like you anywhere near me. You’re lucky Caleb has no standards.”
“If he didn’t have any standards, he’d be fucking someone like you,” I snap back at him. “It’s hard to believe he lets you run around this place without a chaperone with how shitty you are at customer service.”
“How shitty I am?” Grant slams his hands onto the blackjack table. “I had him ready to leave when you fucking opened yourmouth. I should have let him beat you up before kicking him out.”
My heart thunders in my ears as I sass him despite how terrifying it is. “And now you’re scaring off all these patrons because you’re throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of the floor.”
Grant’s expression turns even darker as he casts a quick glance around us to see the curious-looking patrons who are gawking, and I brace myself for whatever he wants to do to me.
“Hey, everything all right over here?” Vortex's voice cuts through.
I gasp and sit straighter. Grant’s expression smooths over.
“Vortex. I think it’s about time Caleb’s boyfriend here was escorted back to his rooms,” Grant says, voice still brittle.