Curious Wine Read Online Free PDF Page B

beauty.
    The women left in a flurry of activity and an accumulation of ski equipment. As she locked the cabin door, Liz said to Diana, “Dinner at seven. That any problem?”
    “Not at all. I’ll look forward to it.”
    “Madge says she has something a little different planned for tonight. Says we’ll find it very interesting.”
    Diana drove slowly down Highway 50 toward Stateline and the casinos, remembering when she had discovered this place—the three brilliant exhilarating summer days here with Barbara, when they had shared the grandeur of the Sierras and the shimmering beauty of Lake Tahoe along with the excitement of gambling.
    She looked around her with keen interest; it had been four years since her last visit. She had stayed in a lakefront condominium with Jack in the late spring, reveling in the crisp freshness of the air, the traces of snow on the rugged tree-laden mountains surrounding the Lake, the deep cold harmonies of blue in the water just outside their window. She had not realized that Jack had been bored until he demurred when she wanted to return.
    “Vegas is closer,” he had said, “and more fun.”
    She came to the brief stretch along Highway 50 that skirted the shoreline; and she looked through the trees, braking the car slightly to savor the view across the vivid patterns of blue to the mountains. She sped up with an apologetic wave as the car behind her honked its irritation.
    She walked into Harrah’s smiling at the familiar rush of casino noise that engulfed her, the whir and ring of slot machines, the unremitting buzz of gambling activity. She searched for Vivian.
    This early, Harrah’s was not crowded; sections of the club were deserted, leather covers on the blackjack tables. Three sections were open, only a few of the tables crowded with gamblers. Diana strolled through a cluster of blackjack tables, scanning the black-and-white clad dealers—the men neat in their white shirts and black ties, the women wearing white blouses, all the dealers wearing nametags and black aprons with Harrah’s stenciled in gold. They stood in various attitudes of disinterest, some dealing the cards with cool dispassion, some talking to their tables of patrons, others standing with arms crossed—no one at their tables —looking vaguely out over the crowd circulating unceasingly through the casino. By contrast, the dealers at the craps tables were in continual motion, leaning to collect and pay off bets, swiftly stacking chips between rolls of the dice. Two dealers at an empty craps table talked to each other, one of them desultorily stacking, destroying, restacking a column of black hundred-dollar chips.
    Diana paused at a roulette table. Six players were covering the layout liberally with bright chips of varying colors. The dealer pulled in mounds of chips with each settling of the ball, piling them into stacks of equal height and color with incredible rapidity. Diana enjoyed the spectacle of the game with no wish to play; she had no feel for numbers and only a basic understanding of the game. One man at the table was winning steadily, accumulating large stacks of purple chips with each settling of the roulette ball. He was tall, sandy-haired, good-looking. He reminded her of Jack. Pain began, and she closed her eyes against it in weary resentment. She spotted Vivian.
    Vivian hugged her, and Diana said affectionately, “I bet you’ve been gambling to beat hell already.”
    “Late night,” murmured Vivian. Her eyes were puffy, her face pale.
    “Did you have breakfast?”
    Vivian nodded. “We had room service before John left for his sales seminar. It’s good to have you here, Diana dear. How are things at the cabin? If it’s a real bore Vivian will get you out of there. Liz and I have a very honest relationship.”
    “I’ll only see them in the evening. And no hotel could possibly be as beautiful. The setting—”
    “I thought you’d like it. I spent two weeks with George and Liz and their