Fate

Chapter Sixty Eight

Word Count: 1185

​"Anything else I should know about?" Fate asked, looking across the expanse of his massive black desk to Celine.

She exchanged a glance with Donny. "One last thing."

Fate closed his laptop with the finance spreadsheet they had been reviewing and accepted the thin file from Celine.

"Rupert Belvedere," Donny said, sitting forward in his chair. "He's a high roller, and we're expecting his arrival within the next couple of days."

"Alright. What do we know about him?"

Celine tipped her chin toward the file. "That."
Fate looked again at the thinness of the file. He looked up, confused. It wasn't like Celine to collect so little information on a new guest. Her mouth was pressed into a thin, irritated line. She seemed to be disappointed as well.

"That's all the information I could find," she said.

Fate flipped open the file. One page, his name, favorite table games, and tournament averages.

"There's not much to find. Either it doesn't exist or he is very, very good at keeping things private. He keeps a very low public profile."
"Is he here for the tournament?" Fate asked, reading again through the sparse information.
Celine raised her dark eyebrows. "I believe so, though he hasn't registered yet."

Donny and Celine, usually cool and collected, both looked uncharacteristically nervous. Fate tried not to smile. It never ceased to amuse him how firmly mortals held to the fiction they had any control over their lives, and how deeply unnerved it made them to experience any evidence to the contrary.

"Please alert me when he arrives." Fate closed the file and looked up. "He sounds like someone I would like to meet."

Donny nodded. "You got it." He glanced down at his gold watch—a gift from Fate on his fifth anniversary of employment. "I better get back down to the floor. My guys will be wondering where I've got to," he said, nodding his goodbye to Celine.

Celine closed her laptop and slid it into her bag, gathering her phone and papers, preparing to leave. She glanced up at Fate. "You don't happen to know anything about Rupert Belvedere, do you?"

Fate shook his head. He was unconcerned, but curious. "No. But when he gets here, bring him right to me. I'll read him and find out what he's up to."​

***

Lucky paced down Las Vegas Avenue, searching for the tall main with dark, shaggy hair. Her eyes scanned the packed street as she threaded her way through the crowds.

Why had she felt such a strong reaction to that man? He was a stranger. He didn't even look like anyone she'd ever known. What was it about him that drew her?

Her heart gave a giant leap as she spied a dark-haired man standing tall above the crowd. He was looking the other way, heading into Bally's. Lucky pivoted and headed in after him. She wove through the casino floor, keeping an eye on him as he strode through the rows of slot machines and bunko rooms.

"Hey!"

A hand reached out, stopping her. "Blow on these, will you?"

Lucky looked up to see a balding man wearing a garish red and black striped shirt standing above her, holding a pair of dice in his hand. She glanced at the packed craps table behind him and shrugged. "What the hell," she shrugged, and blew softly into his palm.

He grinned at her and tossed the dice. They bounced against the table bumper and Lucky looked over to see where they landed. Two threes. The crowd went nuts and the man in the striped shirt jumped up and down.