They both laughed.

It seemed to release the obvious tension that had been building.

.

There was a moment of silence, before Vickie spoke.

"Can you do me a favour, Dylan?" she asked, finally.

.

"If I can."

.

"If you are planning to stay, please take your jacket off."

.

He stood up and took off his jacket. He tossed it over the back of his chair and sat down again.

.

"Thank you," she said smiling.

.

Dylan relaxed and in his mind, he decided to enjoy the time with this beautiful woman.

"So what brings you to the Falls, Vickie?"

.

She shook her head.

"You first. You said something about training."

He was about to start talking, but she stopped him.

"And no one word answers."

.

He laughed.

"Ok. I am here training people at the casino to use a new software program to help catch cheaters."

.

"You mean like card counters and such. Like a facial recognition expression thing."

.

He nodded.

"That is exactly what it is. We have programmed in thousands of distinctive facial and body language movements to help recognize potential cheaters. The program scans the tables and is able to recognize these features in people. It also has a voice recognition program that detects changes in voice frequency that often accompany such acts."

.

"Sounds complicated."

.

"Not really. The tricky part is recognizing the features for what they are."

.

She was a little suspicious.

"And that is your job?"

.

He nodded and sipped his beer. "I break down the program for them, but more importantly, I give a three day course in body language."

.

She looked puzzled.

"You teach a course in body language?"

.

He nodded.

.

"So you can read people's body language?"

.

"I can."

.

She sat back in her chair, half smiling.

"I don't know if I like that, Mr. Richards."

.

He laughed.

"And why is that, Miss Yetman?"

.

"Because you could be reading mine."

.

He laughed, again.

"Do you have something to hide?"

.

She sipped her drink through the straw, her eyes never leaving his.

.

She did not answer, so he decided to change the topic.

"So, Vickie. What do you do?"

.

She never answered. She just chewed the end of her straw and stared at him.

Finally she said, "You have been reading me all night."

.

Now he was silent.

.

"So tell me."

.

"Tell you what?"

.

"Cut the crap, Dylan. Tell me what you have seen."

.

He took a deep breath.

"You are persistent."

.

She simply nodded, still chewing the straw.

.

"Okay," he sighed.

"I knew you liked me from the tone of your voice. There were no arcs in your voice. No sarcastic spikes. No belittling valleys.

You want to flirt with me, but I keep sending mixed signals so you stop."

.

"How do I do that?"

.

"One of the most obvious signs is when a woman plays with her hair. You know how women either curl their hair around their finger or push it back over their ear or even push it back from their face, so the object of their attention will see their whole face."

.

She was about to put her hands through her hair, but stopped and pretended to rub her neck.

.

"Just like that," he said, quickly.

"You keep putting your hand to your face, but then stop and touch your nose or you rub the corner of your eye or like the last time rub your shoulder."

.

She rolled her eyes and bit her bottom lip.

.

"And that's another one, the lip biting, along with the playful chewing of your straw."

.

"Ok, ok. So you know...

let's talk about something else."

She chewed her straw.

"Wouldn't do any good anyway," she muttered.

.

"I heard that."

.

"You were suppose to."

She sat back in her chair again.

"So now I have to watch every thing I do and every expression I make."

.

He shook his head.

"No. I just have to stop looking for things."

.

"Will you?"

.

"Maybe."

.

"Well maybe I should leave."

.

The smile left his face.

"Please don't."

His voice was low and had a hint of sadness.

.

"Even I can read that one," she said, softly.

.

"I am an open book, Vickie. I don't hide my emotions or feelings too well. Another reason why I choose to be alone."

He sipped his beer and laid the glass on the table, holding it between his clenched hands.

"I have a real issue with women. I am not at all comfortable around them."

.

"You seem to be doing okay with me."

.

Dylan shook his head.

"I am a wreck. Its only the beer keeping me calm."

.

"I don't think so, Dylan. I am a lot like you. I don't take easily to people."

.

"You seem to be very confident and sure of yourself."

.

"Mostly show and I have to be for the business I am in. I am a loner for the most part. I guess partly because men were always hitting on me. And I am not praising myself here. I actually don't like it."

.

"Well I guess I have been lucky that I didn't hit on you."

.

She wasn't sure how to react or answer the comment so she changed the subject instead.

"I still don't understand why you haven't been scooped up."

.

"Why?"

.

"You're attractive, funny and when you want to be; you are actually nice to talk to."

She started sipping her drink and chewing on the straw.

"And I find you kind of sexy. Sure you don't want to reconsider that whole one night stand thing again?"

.

"Maybe."

He sipped his beer and stood up.

.

"Where are you going?"

Suddenly she was afraid that she had insulted him and for some reason he was, again, going to leave.

.

"If you must know, I have to pee."

.

"So we have a maybe now?"

.

He smiled.

"Maybe."

.

"I'll order us another drink."

.

"Ok."

.

Kevin came to the table, wiped it and took the empty glasses.

"Another round?"

.

She smiled.

"Please, Kevin."

.

"This is the first time I have seen Mr. Richards sit and talk with someone for any length of time."

.

"Has he been coming here long?"

.

"Well I have been working here for five years and he was a regular when I first came here."

.

"He is a nice guy."

.

Kevin nodded.

"He is. I will be right back with the drinks."