Good Investments

Carter could never keep himself away from big cities. Convict though he was, the glamorous flashing lights and thick clogged air held too much allure for him. In the country, there was no one and nothing, and you could disappear: but in the city, there was  everything - everything you could possibly want or need, and invariably everything you could really do without - and blending into the background was almost child's play.
   Having ducked into a store and, for once, paid for his purchases, Carter had abandoned his customary black bowler hat and long coat in favor of something more befitting his new surroundings. Now he wore a clean long-sleeved white shirt and beige vest, with dark grey slacks and newly shined shoes. No longer hidden under a hat, his blonde hair was ruffled and casually parted. To anyone, he looked like a businessman or a rich mobster. Carter liked his new look. Dark and shady stood out far too much in Las Vegas.
   
   All the casinos were open and stuffed to the brim with drunk hopefuls gambling their salaries away. Carter watched with interest, but he knew better than to join them. He had worked much too hard over the past few weeks to lose what he had earned. He couldn't be spending money on anything that wasn't completely necessary. Not right away, at least. He had to be smart about it. Besides, he'd already hit his own personal jackpot.
   Anyway, right about then he was hungry, and, food being on the list of necessities, Carter stopped at one of the smaller casinos for a beer and something to tide him over. They were really  the only places you could get food around  there. Barely anything could be heard over the raucous shouting, machines pinging, and loud band music being played. Rather than be tempted by the colorful lights and promises of easy fortunes, Carter stared out the door as he ate, watching an assortment of traffic and pedestrians go by, backlit by endless amounts of colorful light bulbs.
   And they say New York is the city that never sleeps, he thought with a smirk.
  It was amazing to him really, the variety of people making their lives in the city. You could sit and stare all you wanted, and still only see a fraction. Quite a large number were passing him by even then. A stiff uptight businessman, coat still buttoned and tie still in a chokehold around his neck, clutching a briefcase with a grip like a vice. A disheveled homeless bum, schlepping his way along with hair hanging in ragged greasy ropes and one leg dragging. A musician for one of the casinos, all done up in a red vest and bow tie, clutching a trombone. A young love struck couple, obviously from out of town, gawking wide-eyed at the spectacle  of the city around them. Two showgirls, an explosion of brightly colored feathers and glittering beads and fishnet stockings, strutting along and giggling to one another. A wild drunk, staggering, shouting, and practically slobbering as he lurched down the street, bottle still in hand and coat backwards, only hanging off one arm. A young woman, standing alone at the corner of the street in a revealing red blouse and tiny black skirt - oh! What was this?
   Carter got up suddenly, abandoning his alcohol and weaving his  way through streams of people until he was back out under the open sky. He made a beeline for the street corner, where the woman was still standing, only now she was not alone. The drunk he had seen not long before, having only narrowly avoided being hit by an angry taxi, now had one rough hand on her arm.
   "You jus' come w' me, now, missy," he was saying in a heavily slurred voice. "I'm all 'lone tonight, I is, an' I needs me some company."
   The woman pulled against his grip, but apparently even in his drunken state he was still strong.
   "No money, no company," she said, with another tug.
   "Oi, now then m'darlin', th'r's no need ter struggle. You jus' come 'long wi' me, I'll treat ya real nice, I will -"
   "I told ya fatass, no money, no mistress, now beat it!" Her voice was strong, despite the obvious predicament she was in.
   The drunk yanked hard on her arm then, pulling her down so that his face was right in hers. "I don' need no damn money," he growled. "I am yer compensation. You'll never've had it so good, ya hear me?"
   "Let me go, asshole!"
   "Shaddup! I'm takin' yer anyway whether ya like it 'r not, and ya better damn well enjoy it 'cuz I -"
   Carter came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. The man spun around wildly. "Excuse me," Carter said politely. "But something tells me she doesn't want to be going with you."
   The drunk's face turned bright red, and the woman shot Carter a look that could have either been interpreted as thank you or butt out.
   "Whattaya want, dumbass?" the man asked irritably.
    "Well," he said. "I was hoping to acquire the services of the young lady here and since she doesn't seem to want to go with you, I figured she'd much rather like to come with me." He shot her a look. "Would I be correct?"
   One side of the woman's mouth curled up. "You would be."
   "Well then, by all means come with me."
   "Hol' on jus' a damn sec'nd!" The drunk let go of the woman's arm and stomped lopsidedly over to Carter. "I saw 'er firs', alri'? I'm the one 'oo gets 'er!"
   "But you have no money."
   "To HELL wi' money!" The man threw his not quite empty bottle to the side, where it shattered. "I don' need that shit, I'm all the paym'nt she'll ever need."
   Carter's eyes hardened. The time for politeness was over. "Step aside, sir."
   The drunk laughed. "HA! Like hell I will, you li'l shit! This broad is comin' wi' me, an' if you piss me off one more time, I'll knock yer scrawny ass inter the street!"
   Carter had had enough. With a demeanor as calm as it had been throughout the entire conversation, he drew back and punched the drunkard full in the face. He toppled and landed in the gutter with a thump.
   Carter shook out his hand and turned nonchalantly back to the woman. "Well," he said. "That was starting to piss me off."
   She snorted. 'I'll say."
   "That happen often?" he asked.
   The woman shrugged. "More than I'd like."
   "Do they get away with it?"
   "Usually."
   Carter's eyebrows furrowed, but the woman didn't seem all that bothered by the prospect of being attacked. "Can I ask your name?"
   "Gemma."
   "well, pleased to meet you, Gemma." For the first time since catching a glimpse of her from inside the casino, Carter was able to get a good look at the woman in front of him. She had long, curly, flaming red hair, part of which was pulled back from her face to show off her pale skin and big brown eyes. Her cheekbones were high and her chin pointed, putting Carter in mind of a mischievous pixie. She was wearing dark grey powder on her eyes, and her lips were the same deep red as her tresses.
   So," he said casually. "What do I get for rescuing a damsel in distress, huh? A free night maybe?"
   Gemma grinned. "Nope."
   Carter shrugged. "Worth a try." He took a step or two toward her. "Well, at least you don't have to worry about me dragging you off into some back alley. I don't know how you operate, but I've got a room in one of the casinos around here and I would be willing to pay full price for your, ah - services."
   Gemma crossed her arms and flashed him another crooked smile. "He rescues me from a drunk, he doesn't drag me off, he offers full pay - and they say chivalry's  dead."
   Carter returned her smile in kind, licking his lips. Oh yes, there were definitely some things worth what you paid for them.