I close my locker and sigh with happiness.
It has been one week since I started working as a blackjack dealer—and I've loved every second. Sure, there seems to be an inordinate amount of men flocking to my table, but Daniel is forever standing behind me to keep them in check. The big engagement ring on my finger doesn't hurt, either. Daniel proposed to me in a beautiful restaurant overlooking the Strip yesterday and I almost launched myself across the table in an attempt to say yes and throw my arms around him at the same time.
A week ago, I thought I knew happiness, but ever since Daniel and I worked out our issue, that feeling has increased tenfold and now I don't walk. I float.
Faye sidles up next to me, stowing a bottle of body spray in her locker, before leaning against it to eyeba
