The Last State Is The Best - Chapter 4 free porn video

Chapter 4 - On a streak Once Lois arrived back in her room, the only thing on her mind was to get undressed and soak in the tub. It's amazing what reclining in warm water can do. Not only would it help ease the soreness in her tired legs and feet, it would relax her in both body and mind. There are times when a shower just won't do. Being immersed in warm water undoubtedly connects a person to deeply imbedded prenatal memories. Lois could only hope that it would soak away some of her depression about Steve and another missed opportunity with him. In fact, the water was so relaxing that she dozed off. Awaking with a start, she decided that she needed to finish up before she started to look like a prune. She grabbed the shampoo and conditioner and washed the day's dust out of her hair. In the mood she was in, she was going to be very casual this evening, with a simple blow dry and comb out, a fairly plain blouse and slacks, and the bare minimum for makeup. Maybe she could grab a burger and watch a game in the ESPN Zone ... "Oh, that's right - ESPN Zone was closed for renovations," Lois remembered. She thought for a moment. "Well, I guess I can do Italian." There was no Italian heritage in Lois's background. But Italian food was comfort food for her. Lasagna, manicotti, cheese ravioli with tomato sauce, linguine with pesto sauce, fettuccine alfredo, veal parmigiana, an Italian cold cut sub with oil and vinegar were all favorites for Lois. And then there was pizza. There was something quintessentially New York about walking into any of hundreds of places in the New York City metropolitan area with a red, white and green flag somewhere in the d?cor, red checkered tablecloths and pictures of stars from sports and entertainment and saying, "Gimme a couple of slices." The man behind the counter in the white undershirt and apron needed no further information except to know what you were drinking with it. It was understood that you wanted two slices of New York style (Neapolitan) pizza. If you wanted something on it (like pepperoni or mushrooms), you would have said so. If you had wanted Sicilian (Chicago style), you would have said so. When the pizza was made the way Lois liked it, the edge of the crust would be crispy, but it would be softer where the toppings covered it. You picked up the slice near the two corners along the outer edge and curled the slice. As the slice gets near the point, it won't curl any more and it droops downward. That droop was essential. It allowed the excess oil to drip off. As far as Lois was concerned, if there wasn't excess oil to drip off, it wasn't authentic. The point was where you take the first bite, and you need to lower and tilt your head to get the best angle to do so. That puts you into a battle with the hot, melted cheese: biting through it cleanly enough to separate it from the rest of the slice (trying to avoid those mozzarella strings that connect it to the rest of the slice), and trying to not burn the roof of your mouth while maneuvering the slice. There was only one problem. Lois had a rule about ordering pizza or bagels outside of the New York metro area. The rule was simple: she didn't do it. It was partly due to the water and partly due to uncertainty about whether a pizza parlor in the "boonies" could come close to what she would find at almost any turn back home. She knew that there were good pizzerias outside of the New York metro area. She had many meals at one during her freshman year at college in upstate New York. But there is a difference between going someplace where you live (and recommended by other New Yorkers) and going someplace when you are on vacation and want everything to be a good memory. The further away you got from New York City, the more you were rolling the dice when it comes to pizza. The idea of bad pizza evoked a memory and Lois chuckled in spite of herself. It was the exception to Lois's rule, but it proved her point. It was from the short period when Louis was married, and in fact, while Louis and his ex were still on good terms with each other. They discovered that a pizza parlor had opened up in a storefront of the apartment complex where they lived. So one warm spring evening when they decided to avoid heating the kitchen, they walked down to the pizza parlor. They quickly discovered that interloping pizza makers had dared set up a shop in the New York City metro area and had no business doing so. The blonde hair and accents of the man and woman behind the counter clearly indicated their Scandinavian heritage. But the moment of truth came when Louis and his wife ordered a whole pie and watched as the man behind the counter took the ball of dough and started pounding on it and then stretching it while it was on the marble countertop. Louis and his wife glanced at each other with questioning looks. At any real pizza parlor, the dough may be spread out a little on the table, but the real stretching occurs in the air. Only a few are able to toss it high into the air and catch it without tearing the dough; the rest do it by twirling it over and over again in the air, slowly spreading it as it spins. But being young and adventurous, Louis and his ex brought it home. It only took two bites for them to look at each other and say, "Yuck. This pizza is nasty." Of course, the crust was terrible, but the cheese and the sauce weren't much better. The rest of it ended up in the garbage pail. And they laughed about it while they found something else to eat. A few months later, they noticed the place was out of business. Lois wondered which rule would apply at New York New York. Had the hotel imported a bona fide chef from New York City to oversee the Italian restaurant? And even so, was the water conducive to making good pizza dough. She decided that with so many other great choices on the menu, she could forego ordering pizza. Besides, by this time next week she would be back home and could order anything she liked. Meanwhile in Melissa's office, Steve was growing restless. "Are you sure she will be coming downstairs in this elevator bank?" "Yes, I'm sure," replied Melissa. "The only way that she doesn't come downstairs is if she decides to eat dinner in her room. My computer is set up so any room services orders will come across my screen. After being out all day on the tour with just a box lunch, I doubt that she will skip dinner. You just keep your eyes on security camera group 8. If you haven't been paying attention, she could have gotten past you and is already downstairs in some restaurant by now." "If I've looked away, it has only been for a second or two - usually to rub my eyes. She is on a floor high enough that she will be in that elevator for a while: at least a minute, didn't you say? And longer if other people get on?" "Okay. Just keep watching and be patient. If you mess this up, you may not get any more chances. She is only going to be in town a few more days." "I know, I know. God, I'm so nervous. I can't believe how I am acting. I've only met her yesterday, but there is just something about her. It's more than the fact that I think she is beautiful. It's that certain shyness that she has. It's that there is something old-fashioned about her. There are plenty of beautiful women in Vegas, but there is something about an old-fashioned woman that is very refreshing." "You mean that she isn't one of those modern, career women, like me," taunted Melissa. "Oh, Melissa, you know I would do anything for you. And you've got a great husband who loves you just the way you are. I'm just looking for something different, that's all. I want the kind of marriage relationship like Mom and Dad had." Melissa got a faraway look in her eye for a moment and then replied softly, "I know, Steve. I know." "But she does have a backbone and she will defend herself. If anyone can vouch for that, I can," added Steve. "Wait a minute, Melissa. Is that Lois?" Melissa jumped up, looked over Steve's shoulder and chuckled. "You mean you don't recognize the love of your life without help?" She gave Steve a quick, playful squeeze of his shoulder and told him, "Get moving. You might have as little as thirty seconds to get into position. And Steve? I hope this works out for you. I want to see you as happy as I am." "Thanks, Melissa. See you later." As Lois exited the elevator, she was still a bit pensive, though not as depressed as when she entered that same elevator bank hours earlier upon her return from the tour. The only thing that was on her mind was a quiet dinner. She hadn't decided on the rest of the evening, but she probably would make an early night of it. Meeting someone was the last thing she expected. But things don't always go as you expect in life. "Lois, wait. I've been hoping to see you again so I can apologize." Lois turned to see Steve dressed up, including a sport coat and tie, holding out one long-stemmed red rose. Steve proffered the rose to Lois. "A peace offering, in hopes that you will accept my apology." "Steve, it's lovely," replied Lois, accepting the rose and admiring it. "But isn't a single red rose more of a romantic gesture than a peace offering?" "Well, I was also hoping that you would accept my invitation to have dinner with me tonight. But I have to tell you, there were originally twelve roses. I felt compelled to dispose of the other eleven, as they were simply not a match for your beauty. The one you are holding doesn't measure up, either, but it was the best of the dozen, and I didn't want to come empty-handed." "Steve, you don't have to lay it on so thick. I accept your apology, I really do. And I would be pleased to join you for dinner." "I am being totally sincere, Lois. Of the two beautiful visions before me, the rose comes in a distant second." Lois couldn't help herself. Happiness lit up her face and she was beaming from ear to ear. "Hey, no fair," cried Steve. "With a smile like that lighting up the room, I could go through a million roses and not find one to compare with you." "A few hours ago, I never dreamed I would be saying this, but you've got a way with words, Steve." With that, Lois offered her arm to Steve and they began to walk in the general direction of the restaurants. "Where to, my dear?" "I was in the mood for Italian food tonight, Steve." "Right this way, for a slice of Little Italy." "That's very clever, Steve. A real play on words." Lois couldn't believe her own ears, for as she spoke, it almost sounded like she was purring. Lois quickly added in a more conversational tone, "Have you ever been to the real New York, Steve?" "A few times. Once as a tourist and the rest of the time on business. I will admit that it is an exciting and impressive city. But I wouldn't want to live there. I am a small town boy at heart. Even Las Vegas has gotten too big for me. But I guess I am partially to blame for that in a way. And as you saw today, you don't have to travel far from Vegas to get out into the wide open spaces." "Yes, I noticed that yesterday, as I drove in from Utah." "Lois, were you going to eat at the pizzeria? Or were you going to have something more substantial at the Italian restaurant?" Lois shared her opinion about her aversion to getting pizza once she was no longer in the New York City metro area. Steve mentioned a popular chain of pizza restaurants that he liked and Lois made a face, so he quickly added that he wasn't a New Yorker, so he probably didn't know better. Soon, Lois and Steve were entering Il Fornaio. The conversation was interrupted for a moment as they were led to a cozy table for two. As they began to look over the menus, Lois told Steve about driving through Virgin River Gorge. For the second time that day, she had to make a conscious effort not to mention her dream. Steve agreed that it was an awesome sight and added that the Virgin River evidentially empties into Lake Mead, but far up current from where they had been today. Then he asked Lois, "Are you ready to order? What looks good to you tonight?" Lois looked at Steve for a moment, thinking, "Now that's a leading question." But she decided to play it straight and replied, "I was hoping that there would be something on the menu made with pesto sauce. But I don't see anything." "Pesto sauce? What's that? I don't think I've ever had that." "Do you like grated cheese and garlic?" "Yes to both." "Then you would love pesto sauce. But I guess you won't find out tonight." "It doesn't hurt to ask," replied Steve. He called over the waitress and asked if the chef would be able to make a dish with pesto sauce. While the waitress scurried off to find out, Lois marveled that Steve felt so comfortable doing that. Louis never had the confidence to ask for something special in a restaurant. Of course, Louis also did not have the budget to be ordering special meals. Lois told Steve, "You should not have gone to all that trouble. I could have ordered something else from the menu. There are plenty of choices here." "Nonsense, Lois. A restaurant is in business to serve the public. If you ask politely and are appreciative of their efforts, a good restaurant will be happy to accommodate you. And it helps them to know if there are certain dishes that they should add to their menu. But they won't know if people don't ask. The waitress returned with the chef's regrets that he would not be able to make a proper pesto sauce as the restaurant did not have pignoli nuts on hand, and that was one of the essential ingredients in pesto sauce. The waitress left to give them a little more time. Finally, Lois announced, "I think I will have the fettuccine alla friulana." "Some antipasto and a salad to start? And a glass of wine, perhaps?" "The antipasto and the salad sound great, Steve. But I don't drink any more. And I don't have the faintest idea what would go with veal: red? white? perhaps ros??" Lois smiled at the hidden message she gave herself with the last few words. A more benign Billy Joel song this time. She looked across the table at Steve and thought, "If we lived in the same city, I think I would meet him any time he wanted at our Italian restaurant ... or lots of places, for that matter." Lois paused for a moment and then added, "I'd better stick to a soft drink. I'm not used to alcohol any more. "Do you mind if I have a beer?" "Go right ahead, Steve. I'm not a crusader and it isn't dangerous for me to be around someone who drinks. I drank at one time. I just reached a point in my life where I decided it wasn't for me." Steve smiled and thought to himself, "That cold beer will be nice, but it won't be as refreshing as Lois." Lois wrinkled her nose as she looked at the menu and said, "I don't think I could eat an entire appetizer and salad and even have a chance of finishing my entr?e. Could we share?" "Sure. Which ones?" "The polenta and the house salad will be fine, Steve." Steve glanced back at the menu for a moment and said, "Perfect. And I will have the porterhouse steak, spinach and potatoes. I am not going to even try to pronounce it in Italian. I know steak is pretty mundane. I guess I am not as adventurous with food as I am in the outdoors. But I am pretty much a meat and potatoes kind of guy. And I know what I like." "I like guys who know what they want, Steve," replied Lois. "As long as what they want is not illegal or gross." Steve beamed in response. After the waitress took their order, she turned in such a way that only Lois could see that she made an "ok" sign with her left hand while motioning with her eyes toward Steve. Lois responded with a smile and an almost imperceptible nod of the head. Lois just loved the way women could manage to communicate such things without the men knowing about it. Men might have their old boy network in business, but women, even those who never met before, had their own network to look out for each other. When the waitress left, Lois asked, "Where are you from, Steve? You said that you are a small town boy." "Idaho. I was born in a little town called Mountain Home. My Dad was stationed there during the Vietnam War and that's where he met my Mom. They fell in love and they stayed there when they married and his tour of duty ended." "What part of Idaho is that in?" "It's about 40 miles southeast of Boise, the state capital." "My first and only time in Idaho was a couple of days ago. But I came from West Yellowstone on US 20 and I-15 to Pocatello en route to Utah and then to Vegas." "I've taken that route a few times. Beautiful country in that area. But then pretty much the whole state is beautiful. Lush farm valleys, rugged mountains, dense wilderness areas. My hometown has grown a lot in recent years and so has the whole Boise area. Between the military, government jobs and the university in Boise all growing in that area, and some industry moving in as a result, those jobs attracted people. But it is still very rural - nothing like New York or even Vegas for that matter." "Did you ever serve in the military, Steve?" "I was seriously considering it for a time. I was proud of the fact that my Dad served and enjoyed listening to him and his military friends get together and swap "war stories". He still knew some of the people on base, the career guys who were close to him in age. But then something happened that changed my mind about enlisting. It is an unpleasant memory, and this should be a pleasant dinner together. So I'd prefer to not talk about it. All I will say is that it was the reason why I eventually came to Vegas. And even though Vegas is nothing like Mountain Home, I have never regretted it." "You said something about being partially responsible for the growth of Las Vegas?" "I had my own construction company. Built it up from nothing. And in the end, that was what it turned back into: nothing. But in between, I did my share of building. Mostly homes, but there were some small commercial projects too, like a small strip mall, or a fast food restaurant. But that business started drying up a few years ago, and what little bit is left started to get gobbled up by the bigger firms that were looking for a way to make up for their lost business. "Fortunately, I knew somebody who knew somebody and that's how I was able to land on my feet as a tour guide. I only make a fraction of what I earned at the peak of my construction business. But I didn't go crazy with spending like some did during the boom times. So I am doing okay." The waitress brought their food and the conversation slowed as they began to enjoy their meal. Louis never was interested in sharing his food with a date, but Lois suddenly saw it from a different perspective. Offering Steve a taste of her fettuccine, it gave her pleasure to put some on her fork, reach across the table and feed "her man". It was a very intimate, loving gesture, and Lois had no problem using that same fork to finish her entree. It was a small thing, and yet it added another link to the growing bond between them. Lois also could see that she would never be able to finish her entr?e. She adored fettuccine alfredo, but she could never seem to finish the entire portion at almost any restaurant. The rich, creamy sauce was simply too filling and Lois's appetite was even smaller now. Fettuccine alla friulana was similar in consistency and she already had an appetizer and salad. So she was pleased with Steve's manly appetite and his help in clearing her plate. But it surprised her when he suggested dessert. She protested that she was too full, but he insisted that some sherbet would clear their palates, and being light it would go down easily. So Lois acquiesced. While it would have been a stretch to say she was hungry when the waitress came back with the sherbet, Lois did feel a little less stuffed and was glad that she had agreed. "You have a beautiful smile, Lois." Lois was not even aware that she was smiling. Shyly, she put her hand to her face. "Would you care to share what you were thinking about just now?" Steve asked. "Oh, the sherbet reminded me of the Italian ices we had when I was growing up in New York City. You would buy them in a candy store or from a vendor with a push cart, and they would hand pack them into these cups that looked like a large version of the cups that you use at the dentist to rinse your mouth. We called them "squeeze cups", and that is what you would do to the cup to push the ices up to make it easier to eat. They were always a favorite treat when we went to the beach, and it was a cheap way Mom could keep my brother and me quiet and happy on the way home. My favorite was cherry. I like the flavor, but I think I also liked how it made my lips red. I guess I always wanted my lips to look like my Mom's with her bright red lipstick. I always thought it made her look so beautiful." "I'm glad you have such nice memories of your childhood and looked up to your mom that way. It's too bad they didn't have cherry sherbet. I would have loved to see it on your lips," Steve replied, thinking that he was already very attracted to Lois's lips. "Why, Steve! I do believe you are flirting with me. I will give you twenty years to stop ... thirty tops." "Guilty," said Steve, grinning broadly. As Lois was finishing her sherbet, Steve asked her, "Do you believe in lady luck?" "I never really thought about it. Why do you ask?" "Well, I do enjoy gambling once in a while. And since I am with such a beautiful lady, I thought you might bring me good luck if you were to accompany me to the tables tonight. If you don't mind, that is. I know that most people who come to Vegas like gambling. But I shouldn't assume that you game here to gamble. Do you have anything against gambling, Lois?" "I was going to do just a little gambling, just to say that I did it. But I didn't want to risk a lot and I couldn't decide what I wanted to play." "This is perfect, then. You'll get to experience the thrill of taking a risk on a game of chance in one of the most famous gambling sites in the world, and you don't have to put up a penny of your own money. But to get that thrill, you have to root for me. You will root for me, won't you, Lois?" "Of course, Steve. After catching me on the trail and then treating me to a lovely dinner, rooting for you is the least I can do." Steve smiled. "Any preference as to what we play?" He signaled to the waitress that he had taken care of the bill and helped Lois out of her chair. "If I was going to play a table game, it would be blackjack." "Why blackjack, Lois?" "It has the best odds of all the games you can play in Vegas, although I have been reading recently that you have to be careful these days, because they are introducing so many variations on the rules. Also, I know the basics of the game, having played some friendly games in college. But I am not sure we had the rules right for more advanced things like splitting or doubling down." "Well, if you know about splitting and doubling down, it means you aren't a novice. I'll explain some of the nuances as the game goes along. Relax and enjoy yourself, Lois. This is going to be fun. And don't worry. I never bet more than I can afford to lose. I include any losses I might have to my entertainment budget. But I win my share of nights, also. As a matter of fact, some of what I am playing with tonight is the house's money from a few weeks ago." Steve also was looking forward to whispering in Lois's ear to explain the fine points of blackjack. It would be a natural way to share personal space. "Did you have someone bringing you lady luck the last time, Steve," said Lois, with a smile. "No. The last time, I had to fly solo." Lois noticed that they had just walked past the last blackjack table on the main floor. "Where are we going, Steve? I thought we were going to play blackjack?" "Yes, Lois. But we are going to play in the high roller area." Lois stopped. "Steve, look at me. I can't be dressed appropriately for the high roller area." "You look lovely, Lois. I wouldn't have asked you if it was going to be a problem. The last thing I would want to do is embarrass you. Besides, I'm well liked here. You might even say that I am well connected." "That reminds me, Steve. I've been meaning to ask you. What is your connection to Melissa?" Steve grinned. "Ah, you've figured out one of my connections. Melissa is my sister. It always helps to know someone in management." "Your sister? But her name is Stone and yours is Palmer." "Her married name. In addition to a great sister, I have a great brother- in-law, an adorable niece and a super nephew." "Of course! And I kept trying to figure out why you weren't boyfriend and girlfriend if she thought so highly of you. She's a great saleswoman for your tour, by the way." "Don't I know it. Especially since she never lets me forget it." Steve offered his arm to Lois and said, "Shall we proceed to the high roller area?" Lois gratefully accepted Steve's arm and looked up at him with slightly fluttering eyes and replied, "By all means, Steve. I can't wait." As they were greeted, they were informed that they expected a new blackjack table to be set up shortly. Meanwhile, they were able to observe the action at a full table. Steve was able to point out the way the game was played at a high stakes table: both cards dealt down to the players and the players would hold them with one hand but always keep them on or over the table. The dealer only responded to signals, not words. So when a player wanted another card, he would lightly brush the cards toward himself. But if he was standing pat, he would take his free hand and wave it over the cards parallel to the table top. And he would slide his cards underneath the chips that signified his bet. One of the players drew a pair of eights, which he immediately split. Steve whispered to Lois that you always should split eights and aces. Lois noticed that the player moved some chips to match his original bet. "Are you required to increase your bet when you split," asked Lois? "Yes," replied Steve. "And you must match your original bet." "I knew that you doubled your bet when you double down. But I was never certain as to whether you doubled your bet or split your bet between the hands when you split your hole cards," whispered Lois. "Actually the terms are a bit confusing," Steve agreed. "Because when you double down, you don't have to double your bet. You can increase your bet by any amount up to double. Of course, if the odds favor you to double down, you should always do the maximum. On the other hand, splitting always requires you to double your bet. No more, no less." "I see," said Lois. Steve was so patient and informative with his explanations. She could see once again why he made such a good tour guide. Also, Lois and Steve were both enjoying being very close to each other, as their whispering required. But neither was quite sure the other felt the same way. More players were entering the room and a few stood near Lois and Steve by the blackjack table. Steve whispered that this meant that another blackjack table would be opening up soon. Sure enough, it wasn't long before they found themselves at a table. Steve ended up at the far end - the last player to be dealt to before the dealer. Well, one night of cards is not enough to prove the existence of lady luck. But as the night wore on, it was clear that the cards were going Steve's way. He didn't win every hand, of course. But he did draw a few blackjacks. Rarely were his hole cards adding up to the low teens, but even when that did happen, he often drew a low card to bring him up to a total between 18 and 21. And it seemed that whenever he did bust, the dealer had a 20 or 21 which would have been hard to beat anyway. And then there was a short stretch where the dealer went bust six straight times and the whole table benefitted. After a few hands when the dealer took a few seconds to refill the shoe with cards, Steve leaned over to Lois and said that on some of the hands, he would ask her what she would do. It would make it more interesting to her and help her learn the game more quickly. Lois had watched the first few hands rather passively. But she noticed that some of the other players had a lady at their side and they would give out a little cheer sometimes when their player won a big hand. Soon, Lois got caught up in the behavior and she cheered and gave Steve's arm a little squeeze when he split a pair of aces and drew a king and a jack. And when Steve would ask her what she would do and he followed that play and won, she always cheered. But part of that cheer was because Steve would affectionately squeeze her hand. After a couple of hours, the stack of chips by Steve's seat showed that he was comfortably ahead. Steve was impressed that Lois seemed to have picked up the basics of the game and correctly knew not to split sixes and she suggested that he double down when Steve was holding an eleven while the dealer was showing a five. He was impressed that when he was holding ace-six and the dealer was showing ten that Lois knew it was a soft seventeen and that Steve should draw. He would have lost had he held, but going with Lois's recommendation (which he would have done, anyway) earned him a push, as he and the dealer both came up with 19. But now Steve decided to do try a different kind of test with Lois. When he had an opportunity, Steve turned to Lois and whispered, "Lois, you've done well so far, and you've always come up with the correct percentage play. But now, instead of me asking you, I want you to be on the lookout for a time to play a hunch. If you get a hunch, tap me on the shoulder, and then whisper in my ear what you think I should do. Okay?" Lois nodded, but on the inside, she was nervous that she would mess up. The first few hands after Steve's suggestion, Lois was too nervous to suggest anything. But then she calmed down enough to clear her mind and look for an opportunity. It came a few hands later. Steve was holding an eight and nine. Lois gingerly tapped Steve on the shoulder. Steve turned to her and Lois whispered, "Hit on 17, Steve. Take a card." Steve knew that the dealer was showing a five and was about to demur. But he remembered his invitation for Lois to play a hunch, so he just nodded okay. The dealer hesitated for a split second when Steve signaled for another card. But then he dealt a card to Steve: a three. Steve slid his cards under his chips and waved his free hand to indicate he was holding. Then he turned to Lois and smiled while Lois excitedly squeezed his arm. The dealer revealed that he was holding 15. Lois and Steve held their breath as the dealer drew: a seven. The dealer went bust. Had Lois, with her hunch, not grabbed the three, that would have been the dealer's card, and the house would have won, 18 to 17. Instead, Steve had another winning hand. Lois exhaled and let out a relatively loud, "Yes". That was immediately followed by Steve leaning toward her, pulling down a little on her shoulder and kissing her cheek. Between the excitement of the game action and the kiss, Lois's cheeks flushed a little. A couple of people who knew Steve gave a little applause. The rest of the time at the tables was anticlimactic and Steve soon saw that Lois was running out of energy. So he signaled to cash in his chips. He was up $3700 for the night. He tipped the dealer, put his arm around Lois's waist and they left the high roller area. "Did you have a good time, Lois?" "Oh yes, Steve. I had a marvelous time," Lois said dreamily. "I know I told you it was okay to play a hunch, but I was wondering if there was any reason why you chose that particular hand?" "Well, it seemed to me that a lot of tens and picture cards had been played in the previous few hands, and all the players to your right either stood pat or busted showing two picture cards. So I figured that there was a good chance of getting a low card. Of course, we could have gotten the seven and the dealer the three ..." "But it worked out in our favor. I know it isn't scientific, but I do believe in lady luck ... and woman's intuition." Lois smiled inwardly at another unintended confirmation of her womanhood as Steve continued, "But if you had a reason, I am not sure it qualifies as a pure hunch. That's good though. A good player shouldn't get emotionally involved in the game and hunch plays should be rare. You have the makings of a good player. You're intelligent. You have a mathematical mind and you pick up the rules and strategy very quickly. But I sense that gambling isn't really your thing and you don't like to take risks." "You're right, Steve. Gambling isn't usually my thing and I am not normally a risk taker. But there have been a few times in my life when I knew that I had to hold my breath and take a plunge. And as for tonight, well, I am in Vegas. You know what they say, 'when in Rome ...'" "... do like the Parisians?" interjected Steve. "Oh, there's your silly sense of humor again. But that was cute. I liked that one," replied Lois. Steve suggested a nightcap, but Lois reminded him that she didn't drink. Then Lois paused for a moment and said hesitantly, "Steve, I'm not the kind of woman who invites a man into her hotel room, especially one that I've only known a day or two. But would you consider it forward of me to ask you to escort me to my door?" "Not at all, my fair lady. I would be honored. And it gives us a little longer to talk." It's funny how a remark like that sometimes stifles the conversation momentarily. But then Steve cleared his throat while they rode in the elevator and said, "I don't have a tour tomorrow. Do you have any plans, Lois?" "Not really. I pretty much picked Las Vegas as the place to finish out my trip because with the special rates, it was much cheaper than the equivalent accommodations in Phoenix, from where I am flying home. But I didn't have a lot of ideas about how I would spend my time this week." "How would you like to go with me to a dude ranch? I'm sure you have nothing like it back east. I assume you don't have many outfits with you, and I know how some women are about being seen in the same thing twice. But the outfit you wore on the tour today would be perfect." "With the dry air you have out here, I think I could squeeze another day out of it. And if I misjudged, I'll just blame the odor on the horse," teased Lois. "Now who has the silly sense of humor?" "Busted," said Lois. "Yes, I would love to go to a dude ranch with you, Steve. Just make sure I get the gentlest horse they have. This tenderfoot has never ridden a horse before." ("Except in my dreams," thought Lois to herself.) They sorted out the arrangements and they were now in front of the door to Lois's room. Lois had her back to the door as they gazed at each other in silence for a moment. Lois had to look up at Steve, reminding her of the difference in their height ... in their size. "Viva la difference," thought Lois. As if trying to communicate by mental telepathy, Lois was willing Steve to kiss her good night: a kiss wonderful enough to make Lois want more, but not so wonderful that it would break down her resistance about inviting Steve inside. As if on cue, Steve sensed the invitation in Lois's eyes, put his arms around her and tilting his head slightly, kissed her tenderly, yet firmly on the lips. Responding on instincts that Lois did not know she possessed, she reached up and joined her hands behind Steve's neck while standing on tiptoe and closing her eyes. "Perfect," was the only word that crossed her mind. After a few seconds, Lois broke the kiss, unlocked her hands and pushed gently on Steve's chest: not hard enough to force him away, but enough to send a signal. "That was wonderful, Steve. But I'd better go inside before I forget that I am a lady." "A very special lady ... and an unforgettable one, I might add." "Shoo, you darling man. I will see you tomorrow." "Good night, Lois. Sweet dreams." "Good night, Steve," replied Lois, closing the door behind her. Steve paused for a moment, staring at the closed door, holding onto the image of Lois in his mind. Then as he walked to the elevator, he pulled out his cell phone. Because the hour was late, he sent a text to Melissa: "Thank you! And yes, I was a gentleman." Meanwhile, Lois prepared for bed, the exhilaration of new romance slowly being overcome by the fatigue of the long day. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought to herself, "Finally, I end a day in Vegas without tears. Maybe there is such a thing as lady luck after all and I have stumbled upon it. Hopefully there is no truth to 'Lucky in cards, unlucky in love.'" Lois slept peacefully that night, and yes, her dreams were sweet.