Little Lady Luck

Clinking. Talking. Humming machines competing with an amateur musician's attempt to sing Sinatra. She closed her eyes, allowing the melody of sounds to wash over her. What others called noise, she loved.

She often came here, wandering and taking everything in. Mostly, she watched the people as they came and went - their pockets greatly lightened at the tables or one of several shops in the building.

She opened her eyes and scanned the room. Tonight she was going to get lucky.

It didn't take long to spot him sitting at one of the blackjack tables. He stood out in his suit, dark hair brushed neatly back. She studied him, approving of the simple utility of movement, and the simplicity of expression. She'd seen him before, and he'd captured her attention.

She wandered closer and could hear the timber of his voice as he spoke. Deep, authoritative, yet calm. Fair. The sound made her shiver with excitement. She knew he was the one, and tonight she would finally meet him.

She reached him and paused as a brief moment of doubt clouded her decision. The moment passed and bunching up her muscles, she jumped and landed lightly on the felted table.

The blackjack dealer rose and lunged at her, while she arched and hissed, backing up into the man who simply put a hand up. The dealer paused, then the two began to speak as the dealer waved his hands in agitation. She turned and bumped her head against the man's chest with a hopeful mewl, staring up at him with slanted green eyes as clear as diamond. He stared back, then barked something at the dealer as he set his hand protectively on her back.

The small white stray began to purr. A lucky night, indeed.