deliberately rubbing his hands together. He thought that was probably what some guy who was just about to collect twenty grand might do.
She shook her head. “Sorry.”
Parker didn't understand. “What does that mean?”
She held the driver's license out to him. “Your ID is fraudulent, young man.”
“No, it's not,” Parker blustered. “Ask my friends.”
“He's totally twenty-one,” Sam insisted, shoving in next to Parker.
“Uh huh,” Cammie agreed mindlessly, flipping through a copy of
Vegas Today
magazine that had been on the counter. Anna had taken one of the orange plastic seats near the door. Adam and Dee sat with her.
“According to Nevada gaming law, unless you can produce genuine identification attesting to your age, it is my obligation to deny you your payout,” the official droned. “Violation is a potential felony. For me. Not that you ever gave that a second thought.”
“But it's legit,” Parker insisted. He managed to keep his voice even, even though his insides were tied in knots. This bitch
was
going to pay him.
The woman motioned Parker closer. She flipped over the ID and pointed to a thin black strip on the back. “Let's find out.”
Shit.
She slid the ID through something like a credit card reader on her desk. “This talks to the DMV in Sacramento. They'll confirm all the information on your license electronically, and if the license is good, this light will flash green. If it's not good, it'll flash—”
The light blinked bright red.
“Ooh, that's gotta hurt,” Cammie quipped.
“Been here, seen that.” The woman handed Parker back his ID. “Why you kids keep trying to get away with this is beyond me.” She scribbled something on an official-looking pad, ripped off the top sheet, and handed him that too.
He peered at it. “You're giving me a
ticket?
”
“Pay the fine within sixty days. By certified check or money order.”
Shit, shit,
shit!
Parker slinked out of the office, his friends in his wake. Did he have the worst luck in the world or what? If one of his friends who
really
had money had managed to win twenty thou, no doubt they would have figured out a way to actually collect it.
“Sucks, man.” Adam punched Parker lightly in the bicep.
“Tell me about it,” Parker muttered. He was already starting to think about having to do his Las Vegas hustle. It wasn't much different from the Hollywood hustle. Find a female who looked rich, lonely, and insecure. Lavish her with attention. “Discover” that he had forgotten his wallet or his credit card or whatever so that she'd pay. Then make her so happy that she really didn't care that she never got paid back.
Dee reached up and put a tiny arm around his shoulder. “Wow, Parker, I'm so sorry that happened to you.”
“Me, too,” Anna agreed.
They turned a corner, heading for the glass doors that led outside. Dee frowned. “Have you been putting out bad karma, Parker? Because you know, whatever you put out into the universe is returned to you tenfold.”
“Come on, Dee,” Anna chided, shifting the strap of her vintage Louis Vuitton overnight bag to the other shoulder. “Sometimes good people have bad luck.”
Dee shrugged, unconvinced.
“Hey, whatever.” Parker stuffed his fake ID and his ticket into his back right pocket. He didn't dare say more. Truth was, he was close as he'd ever been to crying in public.
Cammie slipped on her new pink Bebe studded sunglasses. “At least it was only twenty thousand,” she said philosophically. “I mean, it's not like you won really big money. Now can we get out of this damn airport?”
As Cammie led the group to where their hired limo was waiting, Parker tried to process the insane events of the last fifteen minutes. He'd won, and then lost,
twenty thousand dollars.
He had a couple of crumpled dollar bills left in his wallet, a hundred-dollar ticket for illegal gambling in his pocket, and a pricey week ahead with no way to pay for it.
The whole
She shook her head. “Sorry.”
Parker didn't understand. “What does that mean?”
She held the driver's license out to him. “Your ID is fraudulent, young man.”
“No, it's not,” Parker blustered. “Ask my friends.”
“He's totally twenty-one,” Sam insisted, shoving in next to Parker.
“Uh huh,” Cammie agreed mindlessly, flipping through a copy of
Vegas Today
magazine that had been on the counter. Anna had taken one of the orange plastic seats near the door. Adam and Dee sat with her.
“According to Nevada gaming law, unless you can produce genuine identification attesting to your age, it is my obligation to deny you your payout,” the official droned. “Violation is a potential felony. For me. Not that you ever gave that a second thought.”
“But it's legit,” Parker insisted. He managed to keep his voice even, even though his insides were tied in knots. This bitch
was
going to pay him.
The woman motioned Parker closer. She flipped over the ID and pointed to a thin black strip on the back. “Let's find out.”
Shit.
She slid the ID through something like a credit card reader on her desk. “This talks to the DMV in Sacramento. They'll confirm all the information on your license electronically, and if the license is good, this light will flash green. If it's not good, it'll flash—”
The light blinked bright red.
“Ooh, that's gotta hurt,” Cammie quipped.
“Been here, seen that.” The woman handed Parker back his ID. “Why you kids keep trying to get away with this is beyond me.” She scribbled something on an official-looking pad, ripped off the top sheet, and handed him that too.
He peered at it. “You're giving me a
ticket?
”
“Pay the fine within sixty days. By certified check or money order.”
Shit, shit,
shit!
Parker slinked out of the office, his friends in his wake. Did he have the worst luck in the world or what? If one of his friends who
really
had money had managed to win twenty thou, no doubt they would have figured out a way to actually collect it.
“Sucks, man.” Adam punched Parker lightly in the bicep.
“Tell me about it,” Parker muttered. He was already starting to think about having to do his Las Vegas hustle. It wasn't much different from the Hollywood hustle. Find a female who looked rich, lonely, and insecure. Lavish her with attention. “Discover” that he had forgotten his wallet or his credit card or whatever so that she'd pay. Then make her so happy that she really didn't care that she never got paid back.
Dee reached up and put a tiny arm around his shoulder. “Wow, Parker, I'm so sorry that happened to you.”
“Me, too,” Anna agreed.
They turned a corner, heading for the glass doors that led outside. Dee frowned. “Have you been putting out bad karma, Parker? Because you know, whatever you put out into the universe is returned to you tenfold.”
“Come on, Dee,” Anna chided, shifting the strap of her vintage Louis Vuitton overnight bag to the other shoulder. “Sometimes good people have bad luck.”
Dee shrugged, unconvinced.
“Hey, whatever.” Parker stuffed his fake ID and his ticket into his back right pocket. He didn't dare say more. Truth was, he was close as he'd ever been to crying in public.
Cammie slipped on her new pink Bebe studded sunglasses. “At least it was only twenty thousand,” she said philosophically. “I mean, it's not like you won really big money. Now can we get out of this damn airport?”
As Cammie led the group to where their hired limo was waiting, Parker tried to process the insane events of the last fifteen minutes. He'd won, and then lost,
twenty thousand dollars.
He had a couple of crumpled dollar bills left in his wallet, a hundred-dollar ticket for illegal gambling in his pocket, and a pricey week ahead with no way to pay for it.
The whole
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