“I’ve never gambled in a real place,” was all she said.
Casey was neither enthused nor deterred by his blackjack habit. What did it matter? It would take no effort to tell herself that any possible romantic notions between the two of them were all in her head. No Korean guy had ever asked her out. It wouldn’t start now. Besides, he was a client, and he was Ella’s cousin. There was something incestuous about the idea of dating him. But she wanted him to like her. As a friend. Casey had friends and acquaintances, but there were very few people she wanted to see when she had her few hours off between two jobs and classes. Because of Ella, she’d given up Delia. To her credit, Delia had understood. Perhaps Unu would fill in Delia’s time slot. Drinks now and then before her classes. No one had replaced Jay.
She could have known more people more intimately, but as a young adult in the latter half of her twenties, it was harder to make friends who made a specific kind of connection, or perhaps it was just harder to try again and to be as innocent as you once were or needed to be. But she hadn’t given up on herself so much. Somewhere, Casey had gotten this idea that she could make a person want her as a friend. Not that she could attract just anyone—no, that wasn’t it, exactly—but if someone gave her a little time, whether it was five minutes or an hour, basically anything more than a glance or a brief appraisal, Casey believed that she could draw a person to her. It was the simplest thing in the world for her because she did it by doing one thing perfectly: She paid attention, the kind of attention that almost didn’t exist anymore. This was her gift. So few people did this for each other. Giving someone your attention—with the greatest amount of care she could muster in whatever allotted time period—was far more precious than any kind of commodity. Years ago, Virginia had exclaimed, “Do you know what that’s like, Casey? To have you shine your floodlights on me? It’s terrifying and more compelling than I want to admit. My shrink does that sometimes. And he doesn’t love me the way you love me.” Then she’d burst into tears, and Casey had understood that it was something she had been doing to express her love. Jay had said when she was moving out that he didn’t think he could live without her attention. But with men, somehow, after Jay, it was as if she’d turned around the sign on the shop door to CLOSED, and in the past year and a half, there’d been no reason to turn it back.
“Do you want to have a smoke?” he asked.
“How did you know?” Casey laughed.
“You muttered to yourself how you needed a ciggie in the seventeenth hole.”
“I did?”
“Yes.” He laughed at her. “You also muttered a few exquisite French phrases. In English, that is.”
“Ah. Take the girl out of Queens, but you can’t take Queens out of the girl.” Casey didn’t bother to apologize. She didn’t give a shit.
They left the table, and no one seemed to notice except for the brokers, who waggled their eyebrows a bit. When she thought no one but Hugh was looking, she gave him the finger.
On the wraparound deck, they could hear the buzz of cicadas. Unu pointed to a small reddish green lizard attached to a window. Casey jumped back a bit. She knew pigeons, squirrels, and rats. That was wildlife as far as her experiences went.
“Look at it,” he said. “C’mon.”
Casey tried not to appear afraid.
“Won’t hurt you, darlin’。” Unu’s Texas twang came out.
Casey moved closer to study it more carefully. “It’s beautiful. Funny. It’s an amazing, amazing color. That color would only exist in nature and be as sublime as it is. I always think that about flowers—you know? How in a flower, a color is perfect, but that same color matched in a fabric or paint can look garish. Do you know what I mean?”
“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, making a face with only a thin trace of doubt.
“What?”
“Yeah.” Unu nodded. “I think you like me.”
She shook her head. “Uh-uh.” She didn’t know what to say.
“That’s not my name,” he said, looking at once offended and amused.
Casey burst out laughing.
Unu leaned in and kissed her, and when it was done, Casey pulled back and opened her eyes. “What was that?”
“They don’t kiss in New York? Folks in Dallas do it. You Yankees are just a bunch of talkers.”
“Shut up.” She laughed.
“Can I call you in New York? Take you to dinner?”