Rosie and I sat in the dining room chatting with Grandma as she threw ingredients together for chicken and noodles over mashed potatoes, one of my favorite comfort foods.
After dinner, I put Marissa down in her crib then veered toward the bathroom to fix my hair and makeup for the evening. Grandma peered into the brightly lit room. “Where are you going all spiffed up?”
“Oh, I just figured that I would go out for a while, hang out with a few friends of mine, once you head to bed, Grandma.” I opened my eyes wide, dabbing on my mascara.
Grandma hesitated. “Well actually, that is something that I would like to talk to you about. If you don’t mind, maybe we could sit down in the living room for a while.”
Hesitant, I lowered my hand and stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror. “Sure.”
This wasn’t good at all. I had a bad feeling about what was coming. I trudged down the hall, feeling like a reprimanded child and sat on one end of the sofa. I waited with apprehension until Grandma was seated before I spoke. “You’re not just here for a casual visit, are you?” I enquired calmly.
Grandma’s strong wide hands nervously rubbed her knees. “Not exactly, I did want to visit. I always want to see you and Marissa, but the main reason I came at this time was because it has been brought to my attention that your friends are becoming increasingly concerned with some of your recent behavior and frankly… I am as well.”
Fury boiled up inside of me and I spat out, “What the hell is this? Some sort of intervention?” I hadn’t spoke to my grandma so disrespectfully since I was a young teenager and part of me recoiled when I did, but my anger was too intense and overwhelmed all rational thought.
“I can’t believe this shit!” I said. “Rosie called you didn’t she? Well fuck her! I am fine. I am working my ass off and taking care of my child the best that I can. I make sure that she has everything that she needs and she gets plenty of love and attention. She is loved and cared for. I am a good parent damn it and I don’t appreciate anyone saying any different!”
Grandma clenched her jaw- a trait I had inherited. “No- one has said a word about your mothering. We all know how much you love that child. No-one is questioning that. What we are questioning, is how you are treating yourself.”
I calmed slightly with Grandma’s sincere recognition of the love for my child, but stubbornly held my ground. “I’m fine,” I clipped.
“No, I don’t think that you are,” Grandma replied just as quickly. She wasn’t going to let me off the hook that easily. “You have been drinking and partying for months now and I’m here to tell you to knock it off!” she said in a no- nonsense tone.
“I don’t drink that often Grandma,” I said defensively, knowing she would recognize my lie.
“Yeah, well I guess it’s a matter of perspective, but I feel that it’s safe to say that it has gone too far. Now you look me in the eye and tell me that I’m wrong,” she dared.
I looked into her soft blue eyes. There was nowhere to hide. I hung my head. “You’re not wrong,” I whispered, defeated. Then something inside me broke and I began to weep. I put my head in my hands. “Oh Grandma, I just feel so lost. Everyone keeps telling me that the pain will ease with time, but it doesn’t. I wake up every morning and reality slams into the forefront of my mind, reminding me of all that was lost, and of all the ways that I screwed up.
“The one sunlight in my life is Marissa, and everything else is just shades of gray. The only time I feel free from it all, is when I’m out drinking and pretending that it’s all okay,” I cried.
Grandma slid closer and put an arm around my shoulders. “I understand everything that you are saying, Roshell. But I want you to think about this. Do you think for one moment, that Gabriel would wish this for you? Do you think that you are honoring his memory by behaving this way?”
It all hurt so damn much. I cried harder, realizing the answers to Grandma’s questions and felt heartbroken all over again, a crescendo of suppressed emotion releasing at once. I simply leaned against my grandma’s warm, soft body and let it all go.
Chapter 24
I started my shift bright-eyed and smiling. It had been three months since Grandma’s visit and I had spent every one of those nights sober and either working, or at home with Marissa.
Nights were still tough and I often woke up feeling that vast, empty hole in my chest. But then I would hear my daughter’s delightful, babbling voice and the hole would fill again with my love for her. With a smile, I would roll out of bed and prepare to face another day.
As the weeks passed, I slowly emerged from the fog that I had been lost in and started to plan outings and adventures for Marissa and me. I wanted to prove to everyone, including myself, that I was ready to re-engage in life. I organized picnics, swim excursions at the lake and trips to the zoo. Rosie and I identified a few small household projects that needed tended to. We wanted to spiff up our place in case we decided to have friends over. Even my co-workers noticed and commented that I seemed happier. I was moving forward.
Though the pain was persistent in haunting me, following me around like a ghost, it had leveled out to a dull ache. I decided I would just have to learn to live with it.
When men in the casino, both fellow employees and customers, approached with a line or wanting a date, I typically turned them down but accepted a few times for the hell of it and immediately regretted it when the evening progressed to awkward. They always got way too touchy-feely for my liking, so I would use the old, lame stand-bye, claiming a headache and make a hasty retreat, vowing not to do that to myself again. I wasn’t ready for the emotional roller-coaster of dating. It was a long, painful dance that I no longer knew the steps to.
One cold day as I walked through the parking lot before my shift began, my head tucked down, my nose and mouth protected under my coat from the relentless, frigid wind, I passed a small group of employees who were braving the weather for a cigarette. I overheard someone mention Christmas shopping. I continued past them, eager to escape the icy cold that seeped into my bones, but felt discombobulated as I quickly made the mental calculations and realized it was the end of November; it had been nearly an entire year since Gabriel had passed away. This left me disoriented. I tried to recall the events of the past year, attempting to put together a timeline that made sense.
I entered the building, walking past security, and hesitated before the huge bulletin board located just outside of the human resources office.
I rarely paid attention to anything on it, but for some reason it pulled at me. I read the newly posted positions. There was a posting in the slots department for a cashier/patron host. My eyebrows rose as I played with the idea of applying for the position. I had grown pretty tired of the restaurant, and had excellent customer service skills: my bubbly and friendly attitude brought in good tips and earned recognition amongst my supervisor and manager. My money handling skills were also good. I figured I would not only be a good fit for the position but was ready for a change. I rarely ventured out to the gaming floor and was enticed by the idea of working in a radically different atmosphere. I decided to apply, mix things up a bit.
Two weeks later, I transferred to the slots department and shadowed one of the other slot cashiers as I trained.
The job was fairly straight forward; I had a till at a fixed point of sale, but usually we would slap the large money belts around our waists so we could circulate our section freely. We kept a diligent eye on the customers, always readily available for cashing out or further ticket purchases.
The tribal casinos in Washington were a new development in only the last two or three years and were still heavily regulated by the State. They had yet to pass a law allowing coin in and coin out slots, so the slot machines were still more of a fancy way to play pull tabs rather than true slot machines, so that customers had to purchase a ticket that they would then insert into the machine, which would read their ticket line by line as if it were a slot machine.
My section was two rows of machines that were separated down the middle by an equally long raised platform which allowed us girls to walk up and down the rows with easy access to the patrons. This platform was infamously nicknamed the catwalk, as we strutted up and down it, assisting customers.
I made friends easily with the other girls in the department and fed off the energy that flowed throughout the casino floor. Within a week, I was thriving in my new position and had the customers thoroughly charmed and tipping generously. As the days passed, I found that smiling naturally came more often. I no longer had to force the plastic grin that I’d grown accustomed to.
Around one in the morning, during a particularly slow weeknight, the girls were standing in a semi-circle formation talking about two of the men who apparently worked in the back offices. Curious, I asked, “Who are you guys talking about?”
The young blonde interjected, “Oh, my god, you haven’t met them yet have you?” Her expression showed how eager she was to tell me all about them. “Okay, so the manager of the technology department and his assistant are both so HOT! The assistant is a blond with a toned body, and glasses that give him a smart- babe look.
“The manager looks like he’s in his mid twenties, he’s dark skinned with these amazing dark, deep set eyes and has a sexy goatee.’’ She furrowed her brow in thought and tilted her head. “What do you guys think his ethnicity is? Spanish? He doesn’t look Mexican,” she flipped her hand, dismissing her own questions, “whatever, it doesn’t matter, because he’s gorgeous.”
The tall red-head, Stacie, agreed with the blonde girl, Becca, “You haven’t seen him because he was just away at a conference in Vegas, but don’t worry, you’ll see him soon enough. The both of them come out on the floor anytime the machines act up, which I’m sure you have noticed by now, is often.”
I thought about it, “You know, I think that I might have seen the assistant just yesterday. He was messing with that machine on the back wall that kept having paper jams. I guess he was okay looking.” I shrugged, thinking that he wasn’t really my type.
“Okay, that was Gavin. The manager’s name is Nico,” Stacie offered enthusiastically.
Our lively conversation continued as we gossiped about some of the other guys in the casino that we considered attractive, until our supervisor interrupted, and gave us the good news; we could close up our section for the night.
Two days later, working alongside Becca again, the manager made his first appearance since I had started working on the casino floor.
He was talking to another manager in a section farther down from mine, when Becca jabbed her elbow in my ribs and pointed him out.
Even though he was at a distance, I could tell he had a long, lanky build. I couldn’t deny that he was attractive, but not in the traditional sense. He had very distinct features, with incredibly deep-set, dark eyes set under a wide brow. His hair was cut short and was nearly black. His skin was olive-toned and he had a wide mouth that fit the other strong angles of his face.
I continued to help customers and snuck glances in his direction, sizing him up. Finally, I leaned over Becca’s shoulder, “I say he’s Cuban,” I said.
“Ooh, Cuban. I hadn’t thought of that one. Hey, wasn’t Ricky Ricardo, of ‘I Love Lucy’ Cuban? Yeah, he was definitely a hottie! Maybe you’re right.” Becca puckered her lips as she pondered it.
One of my customers hit a small jackpot. I quickly rushed to his side to congratulate him, making myself available in case he wanted to cash out immediately or keep on playing. I didn’t see the manager for the rest of the day and surmised he had probably retired to the administrative offices.
Chapter 25
NICO: The first day back on site after my trip from Vegas, I scanned the floor while talking with the Keno supervisor and had to ask about the new girl. I didn’t get much intel other than her name. Interesting.
Usually everyone around here knows everyone else’s business. I’m a private person by nature so the constant meddling gossip drives me nuts, but in this case I was hoping to use it to my advantage.
I tend to stay away from girls from work. It’s a rule. But I was drawn to her energy. She is constantly smiling and the patrons seem to favor her.
She is not only aware of how others are drawn to her, but she knows how to work it to her advantage, by the way she plays the crowd with her easy banter and flirty behavior. I watched her strut up and down the cat walk with her thick, dark blonde hair swinging down her back all day, and haven’t neglected to notice that many of the other male employees on the floor, also have her in their vision.
So yeah, I’m intrigued. I want to get to know her but the idea of being another knuckle dragger sniffing around so obviously repulses me. I’d rather die than get lumped into the same category as those other numbskulls.
I have her type pegged; girls that receive that much attention are usually pretty full of themselves, and expect guys to be throwing themselves at them.
Not me. I refuse to give her ego that kind of stroke. The best way to get the attention of a girl of that nature, is to completely ignore her. Works every time.
It was settled. I excused myself and walked toward her section. Becca was ringing up a customer, so I waited until she was finished then questioned her about how the new tickets were working out.
I didn’t actually need to ask. With the daily flash reports, I can take one glance and get a feel for their ratings. I just needed a point of conversation.
Becca leaned forward, her head tilted in an obvious invitation for further conversation. She’s been trying to get me to ask her out for months now. Not happening.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Roshell was finishing up with a customer, making change for the elderly lady on machine twelve who frequented the casino almost daily. I’m pretty sure that I piqued her interest though, because as soon as she was done she strolled in our direction.
I refused to look directly at her as I continued to talk with Becca, hoping that she would get a clue and introduce us without me having to ask.
No chance. Becca was in her own little world. Luckily, Stacie skipped up with a huge grin. “Hey Nico!”
“Hey Stacie, are you just getting on shift?”
Stacie strapped her money belt around her waist. Then with a fling of her shiny auburn hair, answered, “Yeah, I just got here. Uh, Nico? Have you met the new girl yet?” she looked back and forth between the two of us as we both shook our heads. “Oh, well... Roshell, this is Nico, the technology manager. Nico, this is Roshell McRady, she started last week while you were gone.”
Introduction complete, I finally gave her my attention. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you too,” she answered, looking me directly in the eye.
Her bold confidence intrigued me further. But I couldn’t show my interest. Not yet. So I pulled my hand from hers and deliberately broke our gaze, returning to my earlier conversation with Becca.
Yes, I’m definitely drawn to her but I’m bemused as to exactly why. Is it purely physical attraction and curiosity, or is it something more?
I can promise you that I’ll be sure to find out.
Chapter 26
During my first encounter with Nico, I was a little miffed with his indifferent greeting, but I was stunned by his beautiful, brown eyes. His gaze was direct, and his eyes were larger, even deeper set than I’d thought before. When he was up close, I could see that he had impossibly long, thick eyelashes, and the skin around his eyes was slightly darker giving him an exotic and slightly dangerous look. I reached out to shake his outstretched hand and registered the quick jolt that passed between us when his large soft palm enveloped mine.
Off balance, I kept neutral during our exchange, friendly but a little reserved. After he walked away, I realized I was actually disappointed that he hadn’t shown any interest in me at all. He barely acknowledged my existence. I felt a little slighted by him. It irked me. It nag
ged at me, like an annoying sliver wedged under the skin.
Then I caught myself. Why should I even care what he thought or how he acted toward me? I had only just met the man. So what if he didn’t give me the time of day? I didn’t want any male intrusions in my life right then anyway. I closed the door on my wandering thoughts and pushed the encounter out of my mind.
Over the next two weeks, I encountered Nico multiple different times as he made his way around the casino floor, messing with computers and any other equipment that required his attention. Every single time he landed in my section he went out of his way to talk with all the girls except me. Not one word.
I began to feel as if he was specifically avoiding me, and jeez was that irritating? How could he dislike me so much? He didn’t even know me. Maybe he was being a jerk on purpose because I was new and didn’t fall all over him like the other girls.
Well, too damn bad. I promised that I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself the way they did, no matter what.
Then one day, he had one of the machines in my section opened up and was messing around with its innards, while he talked with Stacie. Showdown time, I decided: I would just go over there, make my presence known and see if he would finally be decent toward me. Hard to ignore someone when they’re in your face, I thought. I stomped down the cat walk so they would both hear my approach.
NICO: Heard her heavy-footed approach while I was out fixing some of the machines, so I knew straight-away that my little plan was working all too well.
Stacie glanced up with a friendly smile, but Nico kept his head buried inside the machine, a monkey wrench in one hand.
Not missing a beat, he kept his conversation focused on the upcoming Associate of the Year banquet that would fall on the following Wednesday, and how there were speeches planned, and how this, and how that, blah, blah, blah.
He put the shiny tool down with a metallic clink, closed the machine up and locked it. Stacie rambled on about how she didn’t know what she was going to wear to the banquet. She had been invited by one of the guys who worked in surveillance.