(My first post got deleted :( )

Ross wasn't normally used to formality, but this event demanded it. And in that he delivered. He wore dark grey suit and black trousers, tailored back in LA before he came out to here, alongside the Tissot watch on his wrist. He had even gone full bastard and brought a pair of black leather driving gloves in his jacket pocket, perhaps not for the need of driving fast, but the appearances when the time was needed. Wheelman work always came with that, it wasn't just the fact that you were fast, it was the illusion. Same as the aftershave he wore, and it was needlessly expensive, but Kimberly had suggested it and it did smell good. A little Hugo Boss, not just deodorant but full on aftershave that made him smell like....well, a man with suave. 

Looking in the mirror, he saw that this time round, he was a bit more suave, a bit more charming. His beard had been shaved short to stubble, with his hair still kept short, though it was not the look of someone who was a street racer it seemed, but someone who looked like a high roller. An expensive watch, an expensive suit that in reality, was just average. And that was okay. He wasn't like Kimberly, looking to turn heads with her blond. Heading out, he saw Kimberly, waiting on him, clutch bag in hand.
"With pleasure, darling. You look stunning tonight, that dress is perfect....I swear if you weren't my wife I'd be blushing." He replied, kissing her, as they headed out of their suite, and down to meet their ride. 

------------

Caesar's Palace was a hell of a place to be, it was everything it could have been for Ross. The excess, the madness of Vegas, in one casino. Even the private party itself was another step up, and it felt like this was a place for the richest to blow what to them was insignificant sums of cash.

Ross sat at the table, playing poker. The stakes this was at was ridiculous. It wasn't millions, but he had agreed with Kimberly, when in Vegas, a little of that money had to go somewhere when at the table. And he did well at blending in, taking a dry Martini, the spirit low enough to keep him sharp on his shit, given he'd already had food at the party and it would soak well. He would be under a limit, if breathalysed, and given his reaction to alcohol, this was barely anything. Oh, and nly a quarter of a million was in his hands, that was the maximum he was allowed out of his personal little stash and it had kept him well. These schmucks didn't know how to play. And Ross was cleaning up, not too aggressively, but slowly. Poker was not an easy game, but it took skill to keep you in, as he heard folds, two on the table, the man opposite still in. It was his last play, as he knew that he had other shit to do. The other man wasn't brave, but he was holding to his guns. Did he stay...well, he was cracking a little. A little drop of sweat from the other man's cheek. It came to Ross, as he played his hand, posting a flush, three through six to nine and ten of diamonds. The other man played a straight. Ross internally cheered, as he scooped the chips over.
"Sonofabitch!" The man said, not pleased at all.
"Fella, calm yourself. Now....I think I might go." Ross replied, as he swept his chips further across, each of them significant. It had been posted almost a 200K in the pot, given it was early on, but Ross wasn't staying long.

Recieving the text, before the next game played, he put the rest of his cards to centre, leaving it there and then.
"It seems I'm needed. Good game." Ross said, as he stood, taking leave as the rest nodded, continuing back on. Ross had walked away with about 200K more than he had brought into that game. To put that into perspective, it was enough to buy over his RX7 job, about three times over, he guessed. Just by keeping a calm and collected self, to be unreadable. 

Approaching the lady who had been near the target's side, talking to Kimberly, Ross approached the other girl.

"Couldn't play when I caught a glimpse of you, seeing you all alone out there. Barman, get me and this lovely lady another drink. Your choosing." He almost sounded half like David Tenant with his Highland Scots, as he turned to her, looking on not too pleased.
"I'm a married woman, so I don't know what you're..."
"Your husband is over there, right? I've seen it all before. My lass left me and...well, here I am. Name's Robert Fitzwater, I'm a COO of a fund back in Glasgow." For a second, Ross was getting into this. Before he was running at low level from cops, now he was at the highest stakes, impersonating a hedge fund or financial services manager. This was seriously, fucking, cool.
"Marie. Get us a whiskey, single malt." Ross shook hands with her, as the barman went away, preparing the drink.
"So, how is business?"
"Good. Boring though. Trading....stuff at the moment."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, it's pretty complicated. What about you? How do you end up getting left on your own?"
"Honestly...Carter does it all the time."
"Carter? What a dickhead."
"Yeah, but I'm married to him. And he's not all that bad...."
"But he just left you here. And he's going to...the bathroom with that girl?"
"He won't. Or I'll just guilt him into it. He's like that."
"Okay....well, I suppose then it's all good on our end right?"
"Maybe." It was back and forth like that, till the whisky glasses arrived on the bar.

"Cheers!" And as Ross was about to drink, meanwhile reading his text, he knew he needed to move. Or he'd be late. And this was going to be bad. He knocked himself forwards, spilling his whiskey on Marie. He swore, as he looked back, realising he'd nearly got her in the face, and that meant only one thing....

Getting slapped, Ross was hardly suprised, as he knew he had done what was needed.
"Sorry, sorry! Shit, my phone's going off...I'll be right back love!" Ross put his phone to his ear, as he left her, gently walking as fast he could away from the spillage, heading towards the back of the hotel, much like Kimberly would be, towards the kitchen and through a small corridor, into the loading area.

The four-wheel drive 2017 Ford Focus RS was a vehicle to behold, it was a hooning tool but no doubt they were prepared for this work. Two of them in black were menacing indeed, and they were a professional's tool. Ross saw Kimberly in the loading bay, as he smirked, shaking his head.
"This is fucking insane." Ross said honestly and simply, as he looked down at his jacket, the spill marks of whiskey on there that made him smell.
"Also...promise, I didn't drink any whiskey. Or wasn't going to. I mean, I may have totally just fucked up and tried to get his wife to drink so I didn't have to spend long networking. How about you, anyway?" Ross said, shrugging as he hugged Kimberly, knowing sometimes she was going to hate him for this. Though chances are, she probably saw him watching as they headed into the bathroom.
"Love you." He kissed her gently on the forehead, before heading down into the loading bay itself, leaning by one of the Fords.