She takes the money, not even bothering to hide it, lining the bills up across her palm and snapping them so she can count them. Two fingers curl them down the middle and she smirks up at Rico, heading off to find a good place to watch from. She finds a heavy water-filled fifty five gallon oil drum to perch on, her eyes picking out the other fighters and their little bands of followers. She's surprised not to see more women here. Even when she was growing up, the girls always wanted to hang out with the bad boys.
Maybe Colombian women aren't as hardy as the Irish, she thinks. And that makes her smirk broaden into a proper grin.
Rico isn't much of a conversationalist, and that's okay. It isn't long before she gets bored and wanders off to find the other bookies. She dives head first into the action. She's pleased to find out Ramon's odds are almost even. She refrains, reluctantly, from talking up how he's slow on that one side and how he drank too much last night, so she doesn't think he's going to do too well. He said not to embarrass him, so she won't, even it might mean a double on their take. He has to live here, after all.
Bets laid, she returns to her oil drum, and using Rico's shoulder to steady herself, she hops up on it. One foot goes flat on the corrugated tin wall and she rests on her heel. The metal is still warm from the day's heat, and she's got a perfect view of the fight. (And the exits, and the guys out on the street, and wow, nobody can grab her ass or steal her purse from here.)
Rico gives her a small and seemingly appreciative nod and turns his back to her.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-02-27 09:18 pm (UTC)Maybe Colombian women aren't as hardy as the Irish, she thinks. And that makes her smirk broaden into a proper grin.
Rico isn't much of a conversationalist, and that's okay. It isn't long before she gets bored and wanders off to find the other bookies. She dives head first into the action. She's pleased to find out Ramon's odds are almost even. She refrains, reluctantly, from talking up how he's slow on that one side and how he drank too much last night, so she doesn't think he's going to do too well. He said not to embarrass him, so she won't, even it might mean a double on their take. He has to live here, after all.
Bets laid, she returns to her oil drum, and using Rico's shoulder to steady herself, she hops up on it. One foot goes flat on the corrugated tin wall and she rests on her heel. The metal is still warm from the day's heat, and she's got a perfect view of the fight. (And the exits, and the guys out on the street, and wow, nobody can grab her ass or steal her purse from here.)
Rico gives her a small and seemingly appreciative nod and turns his back to her.