The two men left Simone at the roulette wheel as an elderly couple sidled up to the table. The man sat while the woman perched at his shoulder, her arm draped over his shoulders. Dimitar smiled at the croupier, and she smiled in response with the same honest and welcoming warmth.
When they arrived at the bar, Slim ordered a drink for himself and Dimitar. The two men toasted good luck and good health and set the drinks down on cardboard coasters.
‘I can’t believe your number came in right away like that,’ said Dimitar.
‘You saw the 36th spin!’ laughed Slim. ‘Let’s not talk about the first 35.’
‘So are you going to tell me what you did with the money?’
‘Sure. I set a budget when I holiday. I imagine that I lose it all, on roulette, craps or poker.’
‘What do you mean, imagine?’
‘I tell myself that it is all lost, every bet.’
‘But what about when you win?’
‘I donate it all to charity.’
‘All of it?’
‘Every cent,’ said Slim, his laugh now gone, erased by a serious straight line. ‘I tell myself I had the worst luck, that it all ended up in the games pit or the dealer’s pocket. I have it put on my tab here on the ship, then released at the end of the trip in the form of a banker’s draft.’
‘And where does it go?’
‘To a charity where I live in Queens. They help children whose parents are drug dependent. It helps to change those kids’ lives.’
‘That’s some charity box you have going there. Do you mind me asking how you afford it?’
‘Not at all. I was at the forward curve of technology in the 1990s, which allowed for fast and quick digital communication. I’d love to say it was an invention of genius, but it was more a case of the right idea at exactly the right time. I got lucky.’
‘Wow, so, cutting edge stuff?’
‘It was then. Now it’s defunct. Overtaken, like technology always is. Like all of us. It made me a lot of money. I like to play when I take time away. I travel a lot now and I’m old enough to know I don’t want to work anymore. Plus, I want to do some good while I still have time. If I lose, I can cope. I win, I’m happy being able to donate.’
‘The charity must love you.’
‘I donate anonymously,’ smiled Slim. ‘It’s really not about me. It’s about the children in their care.’
‘Do you have children of your own?’
‘I could never have children. My parents – I was an only child myself – didn’t think they could either. They were high-fliers. They took party drugs, working themselves into the ground. Then my Mum had me. The summer of 1977. Within three months of having me, she was back on the trading floor.’
Slim looked across at the young croupier, who was making notes on a pad and ticking off boxes as she handed it to another member of staff.
‘They died over 20 years ago now, even though it seems like yesterday. They were heavy cocaine users; they worked all day and all night sometimes. I knew babysitters by their first and second names. By the time I was a teenager, they were close to sixty. They loved the high life.’
‘Did they die from taking drugs?’
‘Only if you consider the long-term effects. They worked in the financial markets. Ironically, they took a day off from the floor for a big meeting. First thing in the morning, looking out over New York, at a fancy restaurant.’
‘Doesn’t sound dangerous.’
‘It was called Windows on the World. It was on the 106th floor of the World Trade Center and they were eating breakfast when the first plane hit the North Tower. Around the time they would have been paying the check.’
Slim paid the barman for another drink for them both. Dimitar accepted it with a nod. Slim drank his down in one gulp.
‘There are kids out there who never had parents. But they still have a chance – and a better chance with my help. You think you’ll have kids one day?’
Dimitar thought of Elena and where she might be right now. Would she want children? Will she ever get the chance?
‘I’m not sure.’
Silence threatened to interrupt the two men for the first time, so Dimitar cut it off at the root.
‘Are you going to play the poker tournament on board the ship?’
‘Of course! Are you?’
‘I have to play,’ said Dimitar. ‘I mean… it’s unmissable value. I can’t miss it.’
The two men talked some more. Slim had played the game for over twenty years, all the while making a fortune in business. Now, his money was used either as a playfund for charitable donations or tied up in start-ups to earn more money. It was his philanthropy that motivated him. Dimitar mostly listened as Slim detailed the money he had given to the home and what it meant to him every time he won.
Slim finished his third drink and promised to see Dimitar at the tournament tables as Simone joined them at the bar.
‘Is one of you Dimitar?’
‘That’s me.’
‘There’s a lady named Sofia on the telephone,’ said Simone, ‘She says it’s urgent.’
Dimitar bid Slim farewell as he felt his throat close, dry as sand.
About the Author: Paul Seaton has written about poker for over 10 years, interviewing some of the best players ever to play the game such as Daniel Negreanu, Johnny Chan and Phil Hellmuth. Over the years, Paul has reported live from tournaments such as the World Series of Poker in Las Vegas and the European Poker Tour. He has also written for other poker brands where he was Head of Media, as well as BLUFF magazine, where he was Editor.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.