And that evening, with three babysitters in my apartment, our kids were loaded with donuts, pizza, ice cream and more candies.
We walked out in slow motion, like the trailer to a summer blockbuster no one saw coming.
People stopped and stared. A valet walked into a lamppost.
Even the car alarms went off. I opened the door of the SUV like a queen entering a battlefield.
“Let’s go win some money,” I said.
Mylene slid in beside me. “You look like you belong in a spy movie.”
Jhing Jhing grinned. “No. She looks like the final boss.”
I smirked.
“Good.”
****
The Grand Entrance.
We didn’t walk into the high-roller floor. We descended like gods with credit limits.
The moment the elevator doors opened, the symphony of money greeted us—slot machines ringing like bells in a cathedral, card
