Noir: To The Gambling Table, If You Please

_I need to find a new line of work._

The thought kept playing as I watched Nick. Either my job was lowly enough to include watching his back for a bit of dancing or being a PI was so dangerous that even a simple dance could be lethal. Either way, there had to be better work out there.

The oversized slab of suspicion behind the bar was still eyeing me, so I made a command decision, a gamble. With as casual a stride as possible I plopped myself at a convenient table across from a very well adorned woman of loftier age.

"Hello," I said sweetly, innocently, "Do you mind if I join you?"

To her credit, the old dame didn't miss a beat, "And why, pray tell, would you want to do that?"

In my defense, telling fibs, save in regards to one aspect of my life, was never a strong suit.

"I could tell you all sorts of fluff, ma'am, but honestly, I'm just trying to keep an eye on my boss over there--watch his back."

She followed my glance and huffed, "Dancing with Maryanne Stone he'll need all the help he can get."