Jean-Jacques Tibor - The loser_s wife

"Hello, baby. I'm glad you decided to come up," the gambler said as he motioned her into the spacious living room.

"How about a little drink, kid, before we get down to business?"

Without waiting for her to answer, he motioned to Black Jack who immediately went to a concealed bar that opened with the flick of a small switch.

In seconds that seemed like a silent eternity, the man returned with two tall drinks and handed one to Vito before he bowed and offered the other to Laura.

My God, she thought, it's like a James Bond movie. The raucous noises of the casino below had disappeared with the closing door and the penthouse seemed to be suspended high above the earth. The curtains across the glassed front wall of the living room were wide open and all that could be seen were the tops of the snow-capped mountains that glowed eerily in the twilight.

There was no sound in the room except the clinking of ice cubes and the soft music of a hidden sound system.

Black Jack had retired to the opened bar where he stood at semi-attention.

"Laura baby, don't be nervous," Vito said as he patted her salaciously on the knee. "Drink your drink and relax, we're just going to have a nice little chat."

Vito stood up and removed the deep purple dinner jacket he was wearing. He looked down from his jewel-studded shirtfront.

"I'm goin' to go freshen up, baby. I'll be right back."

She felt a little better with him out of the room and drank thirstily from the tall frosted glass – and she had no objections when Black Jack appeared to make her another. The drink had calmed her a little and she settled back into the velvet softness of the curved couch. She felt considerably more confident and didn't notice the care the huge man took in making her drink. She didn't see the exactness with which he poured the clear liquid from a special bottle in the far corner of the bar.

Black Jack handed it to Deke Vito who had just come back into the room and the sleek looking gambler brought it over to her with a smile.

As he settled onto the couch next to her she was almost sickened by the heavy, sweet smell of the cologne he'd just sprayed himself with.

My God, he must have taken a bath with it. He smells like a French whorehouse. The last thought sobered her momentarily. Whorehouse… I've got to be careful. But the rich warmth that was gradually spreading through her washed away her tension and she felt very sure of herself.

He can't do anything I don't want him to. I may let him touch me a little with his greasy hands, but only enough to get what I want from him. Johnny's contract! The words kept tumbling through her mind to remind her she had to maintain a friendliness toward him in spite of her revulsion.

"Johnny's contract." The words startled her. "Baby, let's talk about Johnny's contract… and the money he owes me."

She looked at the gambler's olive-skinned face through the pearling gray cigar smoke. She was a little surprised to see that everything looked a little hazy to her.

"Baby, that contract's worth an awful lot of money to you and the kid; but the five grand he owes me ain't nothin' to sneeze at."

Her lips seemed a little numb and it was getting difficult to focus her eyes clearly. She tried to concentrate on his words but her mind kept wanting to wander away.

She fastened her eyes on one of the sapphire shirt studs on the pleated front before her and waited til her eyes cleared and she was able to see it distinctly. Then his words became a little easier to understand.

"Yeah, Laura baby, that's a lotta dough. More'n your boy Johnny's got. So if I ain't going to get it from him, where's it gonna come from?"

She looked up at him, the fright showing clearly in her smoky eyes. "Johnn… I mean Deke, I… I don't…"

"Take it easy, Laura baby, I know you ain't got it. But I got a little proposition for you."

"A proposition?"

"What am I." He leaned forward. "What does everybody call Deke Vito?"

Oh wow, she thought, the many ways I could answer that! What did he want her to say.

"I don't know. A gambler, I guess," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"That's right, Laura baby, the last of the high rollers." He chuckled softly. "And I'm gonna show you just how much of a high roller I am."

"I don't understand what you mean," Laura questioned, sensing a foreboding tone in his laugh. "W – What are we going to do?"

"Black Jack, make the little lady another drink." He stood and took her hand, pulling her to her feet. "Come with me and I'll show you."

She followed, a little frightened, and he took her into the next room. It was a large and beautifully decorated room. One wall was glass like the living room, but in a semi-circle around a huge bed were several odd-shaped forms with velvet covers over them. The bed was tremendous and completely round and above it were suspended several TV sets, a stereo system, and a row of telephones.

The bodyguard came in with her drink and after handing it to her, began to pull the velvet covers from what turned out to be crap and blackjack tables and a giant ivory-inlaid roulette wheel.

"This is Mr. Mornay's private little casino for his very close friends." He seemed to put extra emphasis on the "very" and Laura had a sudden obscene vision of lovely girls sitting nude at the tables while Mr. Mornay directed the play at their expense.

"I-It's a lovely place," she sad hesitantly, "but what does this have to do with me?"

"Simple, Laura baby. I said we were going to gamble. Take your pick. Blackjack, dice or roulette?"

"I-I don't understand. What are we going to gamble for?"

"Money, baby. The money Johnny Dutton owes me." He looked at her through his heavy-lidded eyes. "For the money and for his new contract!"

He chuckled again. "You win, and they're yours… I erase his debt and you get his contract. I couldn't get any fairer than that, could I?"

She stood there in amazement at his words and his offer. The whole idea was fantastic! She could erase all their problems with just one bet! But, the sudden shock hit her, what does he want in return!

"B-But what do I have to gamble with? What am I betting with? What do you get if I lose?" She had trouble getting the words out. The drinks had her feeling strange and slightly dizzy and yet somehow, through the haze, she knew what his horrible price was going to be.

The gambler walked over to her and cupped her chin in his hand. He looked down hypnotically at her, the light reflecting from the black pinpricks of his eyes.

"You, Laura baby, you. You're betting with the only thing you have… that soft little pussy down between your legs."

She tried to back away from him, the shock of his blunt answer frightening her, but he held her tightly. She almost fainted in that heavy cloud of sweet cologne, feeling a sudden tremor of sensation run through her as he slid a manicured fingernail down the side of her neck.

His touch seemed to send a vibration of high voltage electricity dancing through her body. God! What was happening to her?

"I can't… I… I don't even know how to gamble…" she managed to stammer, fighting the strange sensation in her that seemed to be gnawing deep down in her belly.

Her words trailed away as she tried to think of some other way, some excuse to get out of this. She felt so strange, so hot, and everything seemed so far away – as if it were happening to someone else.

"Baby, you know how I've always wanted you…"

"Yes, but, Deke, I just can't. I just can't do it with anyone else but Johnny," she said pleadingly, not wanting to anger him before she had gotten what she wanted.

"Listen to me, baby. There isn't any other way. It's so simple like this and you get just as good a chance at winning as I have. You can't ask any better than a fifty-fifty split on five grand." He still held her, looking straight down into her eyes as she cowered before him, the immensity of what he was saying sinking slowly into her alcohol confused brain. "And…" he continued, not releasing his grip on her shoulders, "even if you lose, we might still knock a little off that five grand."