One Year

About ONE YEAR

Is there really such a thing as love at first sight? When a poker dealer in Las Vegas meets an independent woman, sparks fly. They have the time of their lives in Sin City—until something happens and the strength of their newfound love is tested.

This is the second novel by Dann Darwin after his debut novel WILSON’S WOMEN in 2012.

The author, Daniel Behringer in private life, lives in Las Vegas.

ONE YEAR

Dann Darwin

ONE YEAR

Copyright © 2018 by Daniel Behringer. All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.

CONTENTS

About ONE YEAR

Acknowledgments

Epigraph

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27

28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36

37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45

46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The author is indebted to several people who offered insight, suggestions and criticism on this work before it was published.

Many thanks to Paul A. Barkley, whose sharply detailed and perceptive comments helped shape the finished work.

And to Gail Penry, whose attention to every word and thoughtful comments proved invaluable throughout.

And to Teresa Thomas, whose disciplined editing and questioning at key points were extremely helpful.

Thanks to all and to others who offered encouragement along the way.

Cover photo by Matt McK from Unsplash via Canva.com

Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?

As You Like It – Act 3, Scene 5

1

Ididn’t know that Sunday my life would change.

It was a seemingly normal day. Got up, worked out a little and had breakfast.

It was also a day off my job as a poker dealer in Las Vegas. Normally, I would have just kicked around my condo and maybe gone to the movies.

But this Sunday had a little twist—I had a date with a woman I had met on the internet.

After breakfast, I showered and cleaned up.

Looked around the condo. It was spare but clean. I liked it that way.

Got into my silver Hyundai Elantra and cruised down the Las Vegas Beltway.

It was a beautiful November day. The sun shone brilliantly and glinted off the hood of the car. The air conditioner ran full blast.

Didn’t know what to expect that Sunday. I only knew the first name of the woman I had met on the web.

It was Karin. She had pointed out a few times that it was Karin with an i. I imagined that when she wrote her name, she sometimes dotted the i with a tiny heart.

That’s all I knew. Our online correspondence was cordial, but we hadn’t exchanged phone numbers.

I thought that perhaps we were gambling on a new beginning—how fitting for Las Vegas. I laughed a little to myself at the thought.

Drove for about 25 minutes. We had agreed to meet at a place called the Drop Bar at a locals casino.

Parked the Hyundai in the garage and rode the elevator to the casino floor. After working as a poker dealer for about 15 years, the gentle warble of the slot machines was like comfortable background noise. I sometimes deliberately veered through the pit to watch a craps game. I liked to listen to the clunk of the translucent red dice, knowing that a modest amount or a small fortune was riding on every roll, and sometimes wait for the stickman’s inevitable call of sev-ven out.

Not today.

Today, I walked through the nest of slots, elaborately constructed like a maze, and into the Drop Bar.

Karin wouldn’t post a picture on the web. But after some coaxing, she described herself in one of her messages—petite, 117 pounds never more than a pound either way, blond hair and green eyes like sthe color of emeralds.

I picked her out instantly. Her long blond hair stood out and she was smiling broadly.

Walked over to her and extended a hand.

David, I said. David Williams.

Karin, she said shyly.

Her eyes sparkled, and I felt a tingle of excitement when I looked at her. My heart did a tiny flip-flop.

And I knew even then my life was changing in ways I could not yet fathom.

2

Is there really such a thing as love at first sight?

I looked at her lustrous green eyes—they were indeed the color of emeralds.

Whatcha drinking? I asked.

Ice tea, she said, her smile radiant.

I need a beer, I told Karin as I got up to walk over to the bar. Don’t run away.

She flashed her smile again, almost as if she wanted to burst into laughter.

I snagged a Dos Equis from the bartender. We tried chatting about the weather and the weekend, but the sound of NFL games on television drowned us out.

I looked at her again—that easy smile, those eyes, that blond hair that seemed to shimmer.

It’s noisy in here. You wanna grab a bite? I asked.

She looked at me for a second.

Sure, she said.

We walked over to the coffee shop at the casino and joined a long line.

As we approached the front, Karin reached down and scooped up a scuffed penny.

Look, a lucky penny, she said.

As a poker dealer I knew a little bit about luck, and I was tempted to scoff.

But something about Karin lightened my heart.

Put it in your pocket, I said. Guaranteed to be lucky.

A hostess steered us to a tiny table for two where we sat across from each other. Karin ordered soup and salad. I asked for steak and eggs.

Tell me about your family, I said, and Karin told me about how she and her parents had each bought houses in Las Vegas after relocating from the Midwest.

Lots of people retire to Nevada, I said. I’ve read that more than once.

Karin said that she had run a successful retail store in Chicago, and I got the clear impression that she came from a successful upper-middle class family.

My family and I have done all right over the years, she said.

So, I teased innocently. What do you want to be when you grow up?

Karin laughed, a soothing, melodious laugh.

"Oh, I don’t ever want to grow up," she said.

I almost believed her.

Our food arrived and it was my turn to talk.

My Mom and Dad have passed away, I said, then explained how I had moved to Las Vegas to seek a fresh start.

I always had a knack for cards and quickly found work as a poker dealer. The tips were good, and I could afford a comfortable condo and a car better than my Hyundai.

Karin carefully picked through her soup and set tiny chunks of meat aside.

I’m mostly a vegetarian, she said, explaining.

I looked guiltily at my steak and eggs.

Karin glanced at her watch. I had an eye for watches, and it looked like an expensive Piaget.

What time is it? she asked, looking at me intently.

I dunno, I said and looked briefly at my Timex. OK, it’s 12:37.

Karin looked at me with the most serious expression.

You made my watch stop, she said.

What?

You made my watch stop. Mine says 12:15.

OK, I said. Lunch is on me. And I owe you one watch battery.

Karin laughed, and we finished our meal. As we walked to the cashier, Karin grabbed my arm.

Hold onto me, she said. I’m wearing new boots and I might slip.

I pulled her a little closer to me.

I’ll never let you go, Karin, I said teasingly.

As I paid the check, I reminded myself that I didn’t have Karin’s phone number.

I’d like to see you again, Karin, I said. Why don’t I call you?

Sure, she said and she wrote some numbers on the back of the coffee shop’s business card.

That’s not the casino’s number is it? I asked.

She smiled. Call and find out.

We walked down the casino stairs and into the balmy November sunshine.

Let me walk you to your car, I said.

OK.

We walked over to a lime-green Jaguar. Karin must have heard me whistle softly.

You like? she asked. The stereo system is amazing.

I like. You need to take me for a ride.

And I leaned over to kiss her. It was a long, wonderful kiss, and I could feel her breasts press against me. It felt right and good. And I kissed her again.

She finally pulled away, but her eyes sparkled.

I’ll call you, I said.

OK, she said, looked at me briefly, then got into her car to drive away.

I stood there briefly and waved as she drove off.

But again, I felt that sensation as if my life were changing in ways I had not yet imagined.

3

Ihad Monday off, but on Tuesday I went back to work.

I liked working the day shift in the poker room. The crowd was predictable, mostly regulars and retirees, and I could occasionally chat with some of the players. I might have made bigger tips by working evenings and weekends. But working days suited me just fine.

So I clocked in, put on my badge and slung the plastic cards around to mostly expressionless faces that were looking to make a few bucks and pass the time of day.

But I was thinking about Karin.

What was it about that woman?

Well, she was beautiful. And she felt good when she was next to me. I liked that she was successful and came from a solid family.

Hey, said a grumpy man wearing a red-plaid shirt and a cap with a truck-stop logo and a frayed brim. Everybody’s checked. Deal.

I had been daydreaming about Karin.

One of the floor supervisors, Jade, was walking by.

Everything OK here, David? she asked.

Yeah, everything’s fine, I said.

While Jade was a