Re: Elevator
She would have missed the scratch to his nose and the glance over his shoulder a few months ago. She was brash and brazen, and she was used to big movements and loud scenes. There was nothing subtle about Sam, not a fucking thing, but Neil's eternally infuriating patience and calmness had slowed her down a little, had made her look harder than she did once upon a time, and she gave him a questioning look before her gaze turned to the casino floor.
"High roller?" she asked, but she didn't need an answer, because the elevator opening was answer enough. She stubbed the cigarette out beneath her yellow Docs, and she stomped into the shiny enclosure with a blown kiss at the very annoyed looking attendant.
She walked to the back of the elevator, and she leaned against the reflective surface and rested her hands on the rail that circled the elevator. Idly, she looked down and wondered if the railings were supposed to keep really drunk bitches from falling over, but then the doors closed, and the railing became less interesting. "Seriously, I must be a money magnet in Vegas," she said, all Jersey and round Os. "Either that, or everyone just has enough money to spend it like water around here." She tipped her head curiously, the facade slipping for a second. "You bored as you look, or is that pretending?" she ground the tip of her boot on the marble floor as she watched him. "I'm Sam."