Re: The Capital: Jude and Sasha
It was a shame to pull Jude away from the table because he was doing exceptionally well, and she had to fight back a laugh when some idiotic schmuck actually agreed with Jude's insults. But he had her wrist then, and she knew he was asking about more than gambling. Sasha had to pick her words carefully. Her plan had come crashing down like a sandcastle against the break of wave. Nothing to do now except pull out some more buckets and shovels, and rebuild. Adapt. Survive. Thrive. "Every game is better than this. This is a poor man's Baccarat." Conveniently enough the path towards the walled off baccarat table was reasonably empty since the crowd had come to them. Hint hint, Jude.
Once they'd broken free and had no prying ears nearby, Sasha confided about the intimidating blond that looked like he would beat a man to death with a baseball bat (that description may be biased, if only because Sasha had been witness to it), "That's my ex. The one that put a gun to my head?" Her voice was hushed, and her eyes were full of apologies. "I don't know what he is doing here." Not the entire truth. She had assumptions, and killing her was probably very high on Otto's list of priorities.
Pickpocket fingers adjusted the edge of her halter dress, sleight of hand freeing the card secured just out of sight against her skin. "There is a man at the bar. Black hair. Goatee. Looks like a jackass. Get this on him without him knowing. Somewhere he won't check for a while." She palmed a small business card sized envelope into Jude's hand, quick and subtle, invisible to the multitude of untrained eyes in the room. "I'll tell you why later. At the hotel." Because it was a plan that Jude wasn't exactly going to be involved in. Not just yet. But plans change, don't they? She looked up at Jude, resignation in the set of her jaw, "I'm going to talk to Otto."
It wasn't the greatest of plans, but that's what they had to do for the time being. Otto wouldn't say anything if Jude was around, his distrust of people even worse than Sasha's. "Now, your petulant sister is going to storm off. As soon as you get done at the bar, you come find me." There was an unsaid pleading that came along with her words, and if Sasha ever said please she would have just then. That was the best way for her to admit that the danger level may have been raised and it was possible that she was walking into a very stupid situation. "Ready?"