Minutes later, we were in the suite. The guy who answered the door was young. Early twenties. And big. Over six feet and bulked up with steroids. A rental goon hired to serve as doorman. The suite was luxurious, with an ocean view. Not much to see but black glass at this hour, but in the morning, it had to be spectacular. Five men were already seated around the poker table. They were all in their fifties. All overweight from booze and excess. They looked like carnivores. They studied us with mild curiosity.
Diesel nodded to them. “John Diesel.”
“Diesel, like an engine. Are you a train engine or a truck engine?” one of the guys asked.
Diesel just smiled. Diesel heard that a lot.
“I’m Rocky,” the guy said. “Who’s the lady?”
“Stephanie,” Diesel said.
“Hedging your bets in case you drop out early?”
“Brought her along for luck,” Diesel said.
He gave me a light kiss on the top of my head and took his seat at the table. I got a soda from the bar and got comfy on the sofa. It was a big overstuffed affair with lots of throw pillows. Fresh flowers on the glass-?topped coffee table. A plate of fresh fruit. There was a full buffet set out on the sideboard.
An hour later, I was still perched on the couch, watching the game. It had taken on a rhythm. Cards were dealt. Chips were moved. Not much was said. Diesel was looking pleasant, playing under the radar, staying in the game but not making a splash. I’d thought he’d be playing a role by now. Maybe drinking a lot or looking nervous. Instead, he’d chosen to almost disappear. It was a no-?smoking room, but three of the men were smoking. One was smoking a cigar. No one objected. Diesel had a rum and Coke in front of him, but he’d only sipped at it.
Two of the six players had dropped out by midnight. Diesel and Rocky looked about even. The man to Diesel’s left was sweating. His name was Walter, and he’d lost beyond his comfort zone. He laid his cards down and was done. He stood and left. Didn’t look at me.
From my distance, it was hard to tell how much money was involved. Diesel and Rocky were the only players still working from their original stake. All others had added. Some had added a lot.
Diesel looked around at me. “Are you doin’ okay, sugar?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. Are you done soon?”
“Hard to say.”
“Maybe we want to up the ante now that we’ve separated the men from the boys,” Rocky said to Diesel. And he pushed his chips into the middle of the table.
The guy opposite Diesel scraped back in his chair and stood. “Too rich for me. I’m out.”
Diesel counted his chips. Not enough. “This is too bad because I have a real good hand, but I’m short. I tell you what. I’ll throw Stephanie into the pot and call you.”
I jumped off the couch. “What?”
Rocky looked over at me. “I guess she’s cute enough. What’s the deal?”
Diesel leaned back in his chair. “What do you want? The night? Twenty-?four hours?”
“The night. I’m flying out in the morning.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” I said. “You can’t bet me in a poker game.”
“I’ll buy you a new car tomorrow,” Diesel said.
“What kind?”
“What kind do you want?”
“I want a Ferrari,” I told him.
“Forget it. I’ll buy you a Camry.”
“Lexus.”
“A used Lexus.”