I was, am a gambler. I've won some and lost some, but I've won enough of the big ones to have a pretty good lifestyle. I'm not a gambler in the true sense of the word. I don't gamble recklessly, and I never bet more than I could afford to lose. I hit a lucky lottery ticket a few years back.
I've always put away and/or invested my winnings. I've had the same stake for some time. I don't chase bets to get even or ahead. If I feel a table or game is cold, I walk away. I've been in more back room poker tournaments than I can count. I'm pretty good, but I never push my luck. I do, however, play the players. I have little twitches and distractions that I let other players read.
Every time they think they have a 'tell' on me, they find out that it isn't real. I don't play often publicly. If I enter a tournament it is to get beaten early and retire to a back room game. That is where the real money is. I'm a pretty good pool player, but I found it doesn't pay as well as poker and a few other games of chance, so I don't let myself get roped in. I stick with what I know.
I also pay my taxes. You can't run from taxes. They will catch you sooner or later. Along the way, I got married and divorced. We had 3 kids and had kind of a shared custody. My kids lived with me for most of their off school time and with the ex during the school year. I had plenty of money put away and could easily be comfortable for the rest of my life. I never wanted to live off of my interest, so I've always worked.
I tried a few things, but stumbled on a profession I liked. I bought a building, thinking that real estate would be a good investment. I got a partner of sorts, a guy, more like a family, that knew basics of construction. I paid for different members of the family to take some classes. The guy was in for a piece of the profits and equity, and got paid for maintaining the properties.
I got him certified in plumbing and electric, his son in heating and air, his daughter in painting and interior design and his wife in accounting. I contracted larger jobs out, like concrete and brick work. Starting with flipping one house on a $60,000 investment, 16 years later I had flipped 31 houses and had 48 rentals all over the city. I slowed up considerably over the last year, since day to day, things ran pretty well without me.
Both of Tom's kids and his wife drew nice salaries for running the rental units, and Tom had made a lot of money on the houses we had flipped. He hired a few other outside contractors, and now managed properties for a few other real estate agencies, doing everything from small repairs to roofing and siding. Everyone had money in the bank and everyone was pretty set financially.
I still played at the gambling, more for my own amusement than for profit. My original stake of $10,000 was still intact and I had over a million invested in my winnings. Vegas and Atlantic City had me on their hot list, since I drew in other big players. That, and a few Naive American casinos only made my life even better. I was comped all over the place for rooms, meals, shows and transportation.
My personal stake was low by comparison, but I had made many friends over the years. Back room games bring people together, unlike tournaments where people are looking for high visibility and bragging rights. When word go out that I was going somewhere, you could be assured that some other people would show up to socialize or play against me. Gambling for me was a skill, but I liked the social game more than anything.
I became friends with people from places I can't pronounce. I've won and lost against them, but either way, I kept my smile. No one tried to break me, because I had nothing to break. I had my own set of rules and never went overboard trying to win it all. The game, not the winning or losing was the best part of the game. The bonus was that I could take my kids along wherever I went. They got to see all of the best shows and got treated like VIPs. They learned to tip well, and were afforded the same status I enjoyed.
Like everything, eventually my kids moved on. My oldest moved in with her boyfriend, about halfway between her mother and me. My son wanted to see the world, but he wanted to do it his way. He had set up work for travel and was well on his way to his next destination in Spain. We wouldn't see him for years, if ever. He was on his own adventure, and we'd get the occasional email, card or package from somewhere on earth.
I had always encouraged my kids to be independent and to follow their own dreams. That is why I was kind of surprised when my youngest asked to move in with me. Sofia was just a teenager, but she was as much an adult as her siblings. She was a striking girl, with chestnut hair that went well past her shoulders, striking green eyes and full lips. She was what I would call medium size, about 5' 6", with a healthy bust and nice, round hips.
I had never thought about her in any sexual terms. I had all of the excitement I could handle, both older and younger. My kids always walked around the house covered and dressed behind closed doors. I caught their brother leering a few times as their curves came in, but it went away as quickly as it came up. I actually considered that my son might be gay.
I had been in the middle of a stressful project, just getting started when my wife decided she didn't want to be married any longer. I heard that she was connected to a man in a mixed race relationship, but I never looked into it. She wanted out and thought I was struggling financially, so she signed a quick claim for a specified amount of money, shared custody and no monthly support of any kind. At that time, she made more money than I did, so it made sense to her.
A year later, her bank was bought up by a bigger bank, my business went through the roof, and she was stuck. I gave her some cash from time to time, mainly through the kids. She went from a manager and loan officer to being forced out when her high salary didn't match the expectations of the new owners. She ran a coffee house now. A definite downturn from high finance to being a barista. I didn't pay much attention to her personal life from the minute she told me she wanted out.
Sofia was a lovely girl. She split her time between our houses and never seemed to favor one parent over the other, unlike the older kids. I started with a small house, but over the years I had changed a number of things. As the kids got older, they began to want and need their own space. I built 3 major additions to the house, and a 2 bedroom, 2 bath house now had 5 bedrooms and 6 bathrooms. The last bath I had built was for me. It was a large room with some of the newest and coolest features I could find.
Most of the time these days, I rattled around the big house myself. I didn't use most of the house, so a part time housekeeper worked well for me. I also didn't date a lot, and when I did, I confined myself to activities outside my home. This was my sanctuary, my fortress of solitude, my place outside the world. The kid's room were suspended in time. As they faded into teen and adult life, they spent less time here and made little to no effort to change things, so VHS tapes sat alongside DVDs and Ipods, baby dolls alongside video games and laptops.
Sofia was a happy girl. She dated, but nothing had become serious. She never had ambitions of college and instead went to work right out of high school. She was well liked and had great people skills. She had a job that offered full time pay for part time work. Technically she was a legal secretary, but she transcribed notes for legal briefs and filed papers electronically for a major firm. She could work from anywhere, and only needed to be in the office from time to time to sign her work.
Her first 2 weeks at home were uneventful. In fact, we didn't see much of each other. I was a little busier than usual, dealing with a property that didn't have a clear deed and it took some time to straighten out. Sofia had to make a deadline on a major case, having to outline notes from 5 different people on a single outline. It had to be cross checked and indexed in a specific way, so double and triple checking her work took up a considerable amount of time.
When the smoke cleared, we both had some down time coming. June came in hot and the pool was open. We found ourselves in the same place at the same time for the first time in over a week. I was coming out, towel and drink in hand when I saw Sofia's hair over the back of a lounge chair.
'Hey, stranger.'
'Hey yourself.'
She sat up some, shading her eyes.
'Off today?'
'Hopefully off for a week or so. Finally got that fucking Gordian knot of a bitch of a deed unraveled. Excuse my language.'
'No problem. I say 'fuck' all the time, dad. I'm not a kid any more'.
'You'll always be my kid.'
'I hope not.'
She laid back on the chaise and I looked at her for the first time. Her top was untied, barely covering her nipples. Her bikini bottoms were little more than a thong, with just enough material to cover her slit. I never thought about her in a sexual way, but I have to admit that she looked good. Full breasts moved a little with every breath and her top barely kept position over her nipples.
'I hope you don't wear that out to the beach or the pool.'
'No. Never. This is way bigger than the one I wear in public.'
She smiled that crazy smile of hers that told me she was fucking with me.
'Actually, I was going to go full nude but I didn't want to give you a heart attack.'
She grinned at me again.
'Just give me fair warning and I'll try not to be shocked.'
I lingered over that thought. I had been nude here many times. There were no neighbors within a mile of here. In fact, I had cut the grass nude a lot of the time, a towel on the riding mower seat and a cooler of beer at my feet. She could easily sunbathe nude in total privacy. I found my mind drifting. First a stirring of something, curiosity or maybe lust of seeing her naked body and second, wondering if she had ever been naked here over the years, with or without some of her boyfriends.
