Casino Swap: How Far Would You Go to Change Your Luck?

I still can’t believe I won the damn thing. After three months of unemployment and uncertainty, Lady Luck finally smiled on me at my brother’s bowling league holiday party…and gifted me and Jamie a VIP weekend in Sin City.

A hell of a way to kick off the summer.

I’m supposed to treat it as a special reward for my most excellent abilities with a five-iron on the golf course. Weekend in Las Vegas—top shelf all the way!

But, to me and Jamie, it’s a golden chance to drag each other out of our current financial funks. To have a wild time, sure. But, more importantly, to get damn lucky and finally get ahead.

That means me hitting a streak at the tables and bringing home a boatload of cash. For Jamie, it’s an opportunity to network with influential people and potential sponsors for her social media campaign.

Yeah, I’m not above exploiting my hot wife. Even if I know there will be a billionaire, gangster, crime boss, kingpin, or two treating her like prey.

That’s because we’re a team and Jamie is my MVP. We’re equal partners in the game of life. At least…we were before hitting the jackpot and flying to Las Vegas. If my wife brings out her special “game breaker” skills, I can’t be jealous. Hell no. I have to be proud of my superstar.

One, maybe everyone cares because Lady Luck has given us both a magical opportunity…

My wife is on a mission.

A mission to be seen. And touched by good fortune.

With a capital G.

Jamie’s got the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. Your first impression is she’s an angel, but then you see the full lips and deep brown eyes that twinkle with mischief. You know she can be very naughty. She has flowing black hair, an hourglass body…and gravity-defying boobs.

Somewhere between DD and go-to-hell.

I proudly worship her, but I’m also realistic. My girl wants to live large. Her goal is to be social media famous, and she’s not afraid to take risks. Jamie gets to be a superstar in Las Vegas and, by extension, so do I.

While I claim to worship at the altar of Jamie, she enjoys wearing the halo and being a “goddess.” She is the master of her own fate. She is the one looking for openings and opportunity.

And the goddess gives back for a hundredfold in worship.

My own level of worship (if that’s possible).

As soon as the goddess is in Vegas, she is on the hunt.

She spends a day and a half at the pool, covered in sun tan lotion, taking hundreds of sexy selfies and uploading them to her social profiles. Her follower count jumps from 3,000 to 7,000 on Instagram, and she gets a business proposal from the publisher of MAXIM.

When I tell her how beautiful she is, she flashes that I’m-the-goddess smile and says:

“Maybe I’ll have to get used to a hundred thousand and more.”

On my girlfriend’s proud arm, we enter the queen-size casino goddesses. The Casino owner is there with his beautiful wife/business partner, Tiff. His wife is a stunning beauty with curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and a rich sense of humor. They’re taking care of us at a sponsored table.

Jamz and Tiff click immediately and bullshit for hours, while I exploit my goddess for profit.

Mr. Cummings, best known as Drake, is a big-shot billionaire who runs a chain of Las Vegas casinos.

Drake focuses his attention on Jamie, and I let him see me with Tiff. Drake gives me and Tiff a smile, then turns his attention to Jamz.

Jamz is completely absorbed in Drake’s conversation. Her eyes are big and innocent.

When the time comes for dinner, Drake puts Jamz’ arm in the small of her back and takes her into the Queen’s Den. I offer my arm to Tiff, and we wade into high society. It’s boy-girl seating.

I have Tiff on one side, and on the other, there’s a Brazilian lady with long, kinky blonde hair and dragon claws for fingernails, who is married to my business prospect Allan, a soccer promoter. I get sucked into the conversation and barely glance at Jamie for half an hour.

When I do, Drake is pressed up against he