So here's the next chapter. Remy and Rogue get jobs. Teehee.
Enjoy!
-Forbala-
CHAPTER TEN: POKER
The apartment was small and simple in the way European homes often are, but it was classic and beautiful, and Marielle knew she could make it cozy in a short time. She almost—almost—wished she had Kitty and Jean to help her, but she could do it on her own well enough. To the left was a bedroom and bathroom. To the right was a living room/dining room/kitchenette. Beyond that, another bedroom with an attached bathroom, and across from the entrance was a fair-sized patio. It was small, but more than enough for the two of them. The bedroom to the right—bigger and clearly the master—had direct access to the patio. The only furnishings were appliances, including a stove, refrigerator, and washer/dyrer.
"There aren't any beds. Where are we gonna sleep?" Marielle asked, coming out of one of the bedrooms to meet Raoul in the hall.
"I guess we'll have to improvise," he said, smirking peevishly. Marielle smacked him and told him to shut up and stop being a perv. All he heard was, "Oh, Remy, you're ever so charming!"
So he was a little delusional.
He reached into the duffel and pulled out the only blanket he'd packed. "Sleep wherever you want, chere. And if you want Raoul to keep you warm, that's okay too," he said with a little smirk, handing the blanket to Marielle.
She snatched away the blanket and went to the smaller bedroom, but he interrupted her. "Take the master bedroom, ma belle fille."
Marielle looked at him for a moment. "It doesn't really matter. They're almost the same size."
"The master has an attached bath. Go on. Call if you need me, chere."
With that, Raoul laid down on the floor of the hall, near the front door, using his duffel as a pillow. Marielle looked at him on the floor for several long seconds, feeling guilty for taking the only blanket, but then she decided he'd had more than enough luxuries and flirting for one day, and she disappeared into the bedroom.
The next morning, Marielle woke to see Raoul at the stove, cooking eggs, bacon, and hash browns. She saw a toaster on the counter and smelled biscuits. He'd been busy.
"Morning," Marielle said, looking over his shoulder and breathing deeply the scents of breakfast.
"Good morning, ma belle fille. How did you sleep?" Raoul turned from the stove briefly to brush her hair from her face. She pulled away but he wasn't bothered. He turned back to cooking.
"About as well as can be expected. You weren't too cold out here, were you?"
"Would've been better if I'd had you to cuddle with," he said, turning to her again and placing a hand on her clothed hip. He really loathed those clothes at that moment—she was wearing simple jeans and a t-shirt. It was much to plain for her gorgeous figure.
"Shut up." She smacked him and took to walking around the apartment. She could see it better in the daylight. It was cozy and bright; plenty of sun shone in through the sliding glass doors. She went out to the patio, barefoot, and looked at the city. It was warmer than she expected, even at nine in the morning. Of course; they were right on the Mediterranean.
Monte Carlo was classical Europe. She saw the Monte Carlo Casino a few blocks away, and it looked like it could've been a museum or a mansion. It was different from the gaudiness of Las Vegas. She wondered if what happened in Monte Carlo, stayed in Monte Carlo?
She giggled at this as she came back into the apartment and closed the doors. "What are we up to today?" she asked.
"I was thinking we'd look for jobs, then get some furniture for this place. Oui?"
"Where were you thinking?"
He smiled like, well, a thief. "The casino, of course."
X
An hour later, they were fed, dressed, and walking to the Monte Carlo Casino. As they walked through the doors and into a grande foyer, Raoul slipped his arm around Marielle and walked confidently up to the front desk. She didn't pull away, though she did stiffen slightly.
"Good morning, miss. I'm looking for a job in the casino," he said to the young woman at the desk.
"We're not hiring right now, sir. I'm sorry."
"Ah, but you'll want to hire me. I'm the best poker player there is."
"We already have poker players, sir."
"None like me."
"He's serious, you know," Marielle interjected. "Not that his ego needs more inflating, but he's brilliant."
"Right," Raoul said. "And I'm going to find whoever hires the gamblers, so you may as well take me to him."
The young woman looked put out, but picked up the phone and spoke quickly and quietly. "Monsieur Bonheur will be out shortly."
Roaul nodded and led Marielle to a plush bench against the wall where they sat and waited and watched the rich people milling about. "This place is nice," he said.
"Yeah, it is. It must cost a fortune to stay here."
"Oh, don't think about money, chere. Raoul will take of you."
"Shut up. You sound like Rhett."
A man walked up to them, then, wearing a dark grey business suit, his hair cropped and brushed back. He wore a gilded nametag that read Francis Bonheur and he didn't look very pleased.
Raoul and Marielle stood to meet him. Raoul shook his hand, smiling, and Marielle saw the flicker of red behind his blue contacts that meant he was using his mutant charm. She held back a snort of laughter.
"Good morning, sir, my name is Raoul Picard. I'm looking for a job in your fine casino."
"I'm sure you are, Monsieur Picard, but we aren't hiring."
"That pretty girl at the counter may have told you I'm the best poker player you'll ever see. I'll rake in money by the barrel."
"That may be so, but we're not hiring," Monsieur Bonheur said again.
"Let me play one game, and I'll show you why you need me in your casino."
Bonheur sighed and, after a moment, said, "Fine. One game. You better not be wasting my time." Bonheur turned and began walking to a large archway leading to the casino.
Raoul kissed Marielle's hair and said, "I'll see you in an hour, chere, and then we can go shopping for the apartment." Then he followed Bonheur into the casino and disappeared from Marielle's sight.
She looked around the hotel. It was big and luxurious and not very crowded, as it was still fairly early for vacationers. What would she do while she waited for Gamb—Raoul?
Well, I need a job, too, she thought. May as well start looking here.
Marielle went up to the front desk, where the same girl stood. When the girl saw Marielle, she became visible irate. "I suppose you want a job too, huh?" the girl asked.
"Yes, actually. However, I'm as conceited as…my husband. I'll take any job you'll give me."
The girl contemplated Marielle for a moment, then said, "We're hiring maids."
"I can do that."
"Fine. I'll call Madame Page."
Moments later, a portly woman in a beige dress and white apron entered the lobby and approached the desk. She was middle aged, but pretty, with dark hair tied back in a bun and a kind face.
"I'm Annette Page," she said. "Are you the girl looking for a job?"
"Yes, ma'am. Ah, my husband and I just moved here. He's interviewing for the casino."
"That's fine, dear. Can you clean?"
"Yes."
"Then you have a job. Come to the back and we'll get you a uniform. Come in Monday at nine."
"Thank you, Madame Page."
After Rogue had gotten her uniform and been officially hired, she returned to the lobby, where she saw Raoul talking animatedly with Bonheur, who looked grim and put off. But they were shaking hands, so Marielle assumed Raoul had gotten the job. It'd be silly if he didn't, really.
Raoul left the sour casino man and returned to Marielle's side. "Did you miss me?" he asked, trying to hug her and getting only a smack on the arm.
"No. I got a job."
"Oui?"
"Yeah. I'm a maid now."
"Great! Now we can work here together, chere!"
"You work in the casino. You probably don't start until seven. I work in the morning. We don't overlap."
"We can fix that."
"Shut up. Let's just go shopping and furnish that damned apartment."