Highway Kismet

What Happens in Vegas...

Dedicated to @Yatra1

True to his word, Mitchell and I stopped at the Bellagio Fountain after dinner, although I wasn't sure if he remembered or if he was trying to keep the peace after we argued when the bill arrived at the restaurant. I thought it was appropriate if we went Dutch and split it, but Mitchell – who didn't even let me see the bill, insisted that it was my birthday treat.

My annoyance at him was put to a halt when the fountain started, the lights dimmed, and a melodious tune played while the golden-colored showers danced in a synchronized symphony. I was so engrossed in the show, with a huge smile on my face that I almost forgot to take a picture, but much to my surprise Mitchell remembered and took solo pictures of me, posing ridiculously. He then asked a kind woman who was also viewing the show to take a picture of the two us, I leaned into him, cracked a model pose, and smiled widely before she took the picture.

Thereafter we went to The Venetian Resort Casino. Mitchell's idea was just to show me what a real-life casino looked like because I had never been to one before, but I thought I'd try my luck and play a few slot machines.

"I'm telling you gambling is never a good idea." Mitchell whined as we walked through the luxurious hotel en-route to the casino.

"I know that you're excited to catch the jackpot between my legs tonight," I casually began, "but I want to try my luck with money, and who knows we could be doing in on a bed of money."

In response, Mitchell cleared his throat and I noticed he did that whenever I made him uncomfortable with a crude remark, but I also didn't miss the amusement he wore in his eyes lately when I spoke dirty.

"Firstly, we're in public, please lower your tone," Prim and proper Mitchell was back, "And secondly I don't need to win a jackpot to do it on a bed of money."

I rolled my eyes at his snobbish, arrogant remark. I didn't understand what the big deal about gambling was, I thought it was fun. It wasn't as if I was going to gamble all my savings, I wasn't stupid.

"Do you really want to screw me on your dad's money?" I retorted, "I mean isn't that the same as doing it in your parents' bed?"

He pulled his face in disgust before he groaned, "Do you have to make everything weird?"

I smugly grinned at him, "I am Mila."

"How can I forget?" He mumbled under his breath as we approached the casino.

We entered the large casino and when I said large I meant huge, there had to be a least a thousand bright-colored slot machines, I could hear the sounds of coins falling and the animated sounds the machines made.

The casino was architecturally amazing, it had an ornate Renaissance era-inspired look, complete with beautiful frescoes on the ceilings, regal red and gold carpets, and large, crystal chandeliers.

"Have you ever used a slot machine before?" Mitchell asked as I walked around, looking for the one most attractive to me.

"No, but how hard can it be?" I shrugged.

"Not at all but choosing one to play isn't about how pretty it looks, you need to look at the stats like the winnings its given and when last did someone catch a jackpot, in most cases these machines are rigged so if someone won big recently – you're bound to lose your money." Mitchel told me.

"You sure are learned about this." I remarked with a raised brow.

"I told you, this isn't the first time I've been to Vegas." He smugly retorted, "Although, slot machines aren't my thing."