Chapter 8
Tazim observed Ann's meticulous movements around the room, her attention focused on checking each member's drinks with precision. She navigated the spaces between the tables and the club members with a calculated grace, knowing precisely when to approach a table for a refill and when to remain in the shadows. Her discreet choreography never disrupted a game in progress, her movements timed with scrupulous care.
Yet, what unsettled Tazim the most was the club members' collective obliviousness to Ann's presence unless they required a refill. She seemed to exist in a state of invisibility, a servant only noticed when convenient. It dawned on Tazim that he had been guilty of similar indifference to servers in the past. Despite this awareness, he couldn't suppress the indignation that welled up on Ann's behalf as the men around the poker table treated her with the same casual disregard he had exhibited towards servers over the years.
The tension in the room heightened as Tazim grappled with the disconcerting truth that he was witnessing a reflection of his own past behavior. Unspoken anger lingered beneath the surface, creating an atmosphere charged with an uncomfortable recognition of the arrogant nature of indifference.
But it did. Anger him, that is. He wanted every man in this room to look at Ann. Truly look at her! He wanted them to recognize the painstaking service she was providing.
Or perhaps not, he thought as he watched one of the men sitting across from him guzzle down what was most likely a hundred dollar portion of scotch. The ass then lifted his glass in the air, wiggled it, then arrogantly waited for Ann to swoop by to collect the glass.
“Another!” the man called after her.
What an ass! But Ann didn’t acknowledge the man’s drunken rudeness. The man was most likely bad mannered even when sober.
So it was up to Tazim to teach the man a lesson.
Over the next two hours, he subtly taunted the man to play deeper, tossing more and more chips into the pile. And Tazim was relentless at winning every hand. Occasionally, just to throw the others off of his mission, he helped another player win a hand.
However, by the end of the night, the obnoxious prick had lost over one hundred thousand dollars. Tazim doubted that the man realized what was happening since he was incredibly drunk by the time he called it quits.
Tazim pulled his poker chips closer, satisfied that the other guy had only one chip remaining.
The others around the table chuckled good-naturedly as they all stood, stretching sore muscles and talked about getting home to “the old lady”, not-so-comically referring to their wives.
“It was a pleasure, gentlemen,” he said, standing himself and nodding his appreciation to Ann, who offered him a wooden box for his large pile of poker chips. “Thank you, Ann,” he added.
He watched her blush, charmed. Thank goodness, she hadn’t lost that sweet freshness! Despite the miserable way she’d rejected him five years ago, Ann seemed to still be the lovely, charming woman he remembered.
Ann carefully closed the box, tucking it under her arm. “I’ll bring these to the cashier, sir. The amount will be credited to your account,” she told him, not bothering to look him in the eye.
“That is not necessary,” he replied. At her confusion, he laid a hand on the box. “I didn’t like the way the men treated you. The poker chips are my way of apologizing for them for their rudeness towards you tonight.”
And with that, he walked away, leaving his winnings with Ann.
He’d nearly made it to the doorway where his driver waited with the backdoor open. But Ann rushed over to him, still carrying the box. “I can’t just take your winnings, Tazim!” she hissed, looking around as if worried someone would witness their interaction. “You need to go back and sign for these winnings!”
“Of course you can,” Tazim argued, amused by the horror in her eyes.
“No!” she snapped, her index finger pointing to the elegant box. “There’s over one hundred thousand dollars in this box!” she said, shoving the box into his hands. “I won’t take it! You can take this to the cashier. Every poker chip will be applied to your account.”
And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, head held regally high and shoulders stiff with indignation.
He would have laughed, but he was suddenly so turned on, he wasn’t sure he could move. Ann had always been stubborn. Then he remembered the words in her note five years ago. Her note rejecting him and all he had to offer. “ I don’t need a rich man! I do fine all by myself! ”
She’d just proven her claim once again by rejecting his poker winnings. She didn’t need a rich man in her life.
But as he watched her push through a door, obviously heading back into the card room, he wondered what kind of a man she needed in her life. Was she seeing someone? Or…perhaps? Was she married already? He hadn’t seen a ring on her finger, but sometimes, people in the hospitality industry hid their marital status. A single man or woman was more likely to get bigger tips.
The thought of Ann being married sent a blinding fury through his brain. Some other man touching Ann…no! Absolutely not! Then he pictured the small home he’d been in. There had been no evidence of another man. The décor had definitely been very feminine. However, there had been two chairs at the kitchen table! Did that mean that…? Was she with someone else? Someone that could give her what she needed? Which was what? He’d given her pleasure, laughter and unlimited funding!
His thoughts were spinning with possibilities. Thoughts that he hadn’t considered before this moment.
“Your Highness,” a deep, male voice broke through his contemplation. Tazim looked into the eyes of a big, muscular man. This guy was so heavily muscled, he should be stupid. At least, that was the stereotype. But there was a sharp intelligence shining out of his hazel eyes. “Would you like me to secure your winnings to your account?”
Tazim looked down at the polished, wooden box. He’d forgotten about it and the poker chips inside, while contemplating the possibility that Ann had committed her life to some other man.
Extending the box to the man, Tazim shook his head. “No. These aren’t my winnings. I tried to give them to the waitress who served our table.” Tazim finally looked back at the man, surprised that they were the same height. At six feet, three inches, it was rare that Tazim got to look at someone eye to eye. “Could you add these chips to her tip for the night? I don’t think that the other players bothered to give her an appropriate gratuity for her service.”
The man bowed slightly and accepted the box. “I’ll see to it, Your Highness.”
With that, the man turned and re-entered the club, disappearing through a staff-only door. Tazim waited a moment, hoping for another glimpse of Ann. But she never reappeared. He got the odd sensation that he was being watched, that Ann was waiting, hiding somewhere just out of sight, until he want away.
Looking around, he wondered how many hidden cameras were watching him. With a nod towards an odd looking vase, he winked, then turned and left the club.