Wiley - Kissing Persuasive Lips

INTRODUCING MICK LORD

By Dale Wiley

Copyright 2015 Dale Wiley

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To Mary, Sara and Matt. My universe.

C ONTENTS

The Wynn Casino in Las Vegas is not flashy;at least not in comparison to the spastic neon and LED displays youfind elsewhere along the strip. Its elegance and earthy style seemalmost out of place. It may have vibrant red carpet runningthroughout the casino floor, but the shock of regal red is coveredby the acres of indoor trees (real, of course), baffling the noiseand calming the senses. At times, compared to the rest of the city,it feels like an oasis of calm and gentility.

A Tuesday afternoon in Vegas is like aFriday midnight anywhere else, but it was not usually the time fora high-stakes game like this one. But Michael Andrews Lord, knownto the rest of the world as Mick, had prevailed upon the powersthat be to open a blackjack table just for him, and had gotten themto agree to set the table minimum at $50,000 and the limit at onemillion dollars per hand. He had never played that much in onehand, but the opportunity was there.

Mick didnt look like your typicalhigh-roller. His wardrobe was strictly well-heeled beach bum. Thatday he wore a blue linen shirt, which brought out his eyes, a nicepair of Silver jeans and loafers without socks. That would comeclose to describing him on most days since he had sold his banksand converted to his new life.

Most people would call Mick handsome,although he knew having money didnt hurt. He was six-two and alittle on the skinny side, with light brown hair a little bit wavyand cut fairly short. He had a short beard he had grown six monthsearlier and become kind of fond of. Tabloids gushed and wonderedwho his next woman was. Mick was revolted by this, considering howrecently his life had so dreadfully changed, but he knew thatplaying an absolute fortune in a blackjack game in this openfashion wasnt going to calm any rumor mill. Sometimes his wantsand his actions didnt match up.

Although they couldnt say as much out loud,The Wynn was not in the habit of losing as much money as they hadlost to Mick over the past six months. His streak was almostuncanny; he might lose the smaller hands, but when he bet big,hundreds of thousands of dollars, his winning percentage was farabove normal at the amounts he was playing. The casino was by nomeans ready to shut down, but the winning was taking its toll onall those in charge of keeping losses in line with industryguidelines. Frankly, the winning was raising eyebrows up and downthe strip; it was unusual if not unheard of for someone to have asustained winning streak at such large amounts.

And that Tuesday, with every blackjackplayer within earshot standing a respectful distance back, butwatching intently, Mick was winning again. He had to be up close tohalf a million.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned. Im aboutdone, he said to the dealer and to the floor boss who had joinedhim. Mick knew they were probably worried about their jobs,although he would go to whomever he needed to and make sure theyknew it was not their fault.

Mick looked around. There were the Vegasold-timers, clutching oxygen tanks and playing cards, working girlsscanning the crowd for possible play, two French men who lookedlike they had walked off the set of Miami Vice and numeroustourists, wearing knee-length shorts and fluorescent t-shirts. Ashoeshine man named Frank, whom Mick knew and often took care of,was off to the side, clearly rooting Mick on. Some of these peoplehe knew and liked, most of them just liked the action. Mick wasgiving it to them.

Here we go, he said in the middle of ayawn. Lets play for some real fun and then be done with it. Hismouth smiled and his eyes didnt.

He pushed all the chips in front of him tothe middle of the table.

The dealer looked at the pit boss. He haddealt some big hands, but this was by far the highest stakes he hadever dealt. The floor boss said something into the microphone inhis cuff, then nodded. The dealer indicated that there was $512,000in play.

Hand me twelve of that. Lets make itsimple math.

The dealer pulled off chips totalling$12,000. As the cocktail waitress who had brought him his gin andtonics all afternoon approached again, Mick took that money andhanded it to her.

Something for you and Charlie, he said,referring to her three year-old son. Mick asked about andremembered almost everybody. The smile reached his eyes thistime.

Her eyes doubled in size. He had alreadytipped her very well, a hundred dollar bill every time she broughthim a drink. I cant she started, but his look stopped her.

Mike, tell her its okay, Mick said to thefloor boss. Mike nodded and she took a deep breath and looked atthe money that was now hers. She wanted to say something, to cry,to leap in the air, but she felt the tension of the moment too. Shedidnt want to leave, but she still had a job to do, and Mick hadturned back to the table.

Five hundred thousand it is.

The dealer gave Mick a nine and placed hisown card face down. He next dealt Mick a seven, giving him theworst possible blackjack hand, a sixteen. He turned over a ten.Mick exhaled loudly.

Great hand, Mick rolled his eyes. Hewanted to stay on the hand, but even with his agenda, he knew thathe would stick to his system. Anything else, any random play, wouldbe highly suspicious. He tapped the table. Hit me, Carlos.

Carlos gave him another card, almost wincingas he did. It was a deuce. The crowd sighed. He had an eighteen.Not a great hand, but still in it. Mick waved off any other cards.It was Carlos turn.

Carlos took his ten and used it to turn overhis next card. Everyone watching strained to see what wasunderneath. They gasped as they saw a five. The game was stillalive. This was good for Mick.

The crowd wanted Mick to win. To a man. Hemay have had the life that almost all of them envied greatly, andfor some that envy could at times be malignant, but you never rootfor the house in Vegas. Even if you work for them. And the peoplewho actually knew Mick found him to be even-tempered and kind tothem, even in the midst of what had to be a hellish year in whichhis wife had been killed and his life had been turned into aspectacle with all that had entailed. They all knew he had turnedto gambling, and they all knew he was winning and was parading abevy of starlets through his bedroom, coping with his grief in apublic, uneven manner, doing things that even he admitted he didntlike.

Several men called out, face! More thanhalf the deck was his friend now. Carlos nodded and pulled outanother card. An ace.

Everyone groaned. Carlos looked like he hadkilled an old woman. Was this going to be one of those hands wherethe little cards mounted up and won the day for the house yetagain?

He turned over the next card. There it was:Jack of hearts. The room erupted. Mick had just won half a milliondollars!

Mick didnt crack a smile. He lookedunsteady. He turned to the floor boss. One more hand? Winner takeall?

The guests couldnt believe their ears. Atrue million dollar hand?

Mike spoke into his collar. Even though itwas marked as a million dollar table, he wanted to check with hissuperiors. This was obviously a big deal to everyone involved. Henodded. They would play for the million.