Page 23 of Going All In

I push a large pile of chips into the center. “Raise.”

Player one glances at his cards one more time, like they’re going to show him something new, before he tosses them face-down on the table with a grunt. “Fold.”

I keep my expression neutral while I sweep the chips toward me, winning the hand without having to show my cards.

Statistically, one of the other players would have had a better hand than I did. Probably more than one.

But that doesn’t matter. All that matters is what they think I had. That’s the beauty of poker. All that matters is what people believe.

Pushing the bet like this is my favorite tactic. Nudge people into folding their hands by raising the bet, even when I’m bluffing. Which I am most of the time. Eventually, they’ll start to catch on that maybe I’m bluffing, because no one can have that many good hands in a row.

Then, when they try to call my bluff, I go all in on a good hand.

It’s about the long game. It’s not one hand, one card.

Just like it’s not about one night or one date with Holly. I hate the idea that she’s going on dates with other men. We’re so right for one another, and I wish she could see it the same way, but I’ll wait as long as I have to. It’s torture hearing about her dating other guys. But I like Holly. I enjoy talking to her, spending time with her, so I’ll take whatever I can get for now and work toward building her trust in me.

But that doesn’t mean I have to be happy with her going out with other guys, or truly commiserate with her over bad dates. I had to hide my gleeful smile last night when she told me how miserable her date was.

One hand down and more chips in my corner.

There was no hiding the gleeful smile when my phone rang again. It only took a minute to realize Holly hadn’t meant to call me. The soft buzzing noises confused me at first, until I heard her moan. It was muffled, but I thought I heard her say my name. I’d put myself on mute and let her finish before I ended the call and went to take care of myself.

A new set of cards is dealt out. I have a ten and a queen, both clubs. I take in the piles of chips in front of the other players. Most are dwindling, so their risk perception is going to be skewed. Most players won’t bet big on the pre-flop, when we bet just based on the two cards in our hands, before we see any of the community cards.

I do, tossing in a pile of chips. One by one, the other players fold, unwilling to take their chances, and I rake in my chips and a little bit extra.

As the dealer passes out cards for the next hand, two of the other players are watching me intently. I hide my smile, not even letting my lips twitch. Here it is. They’re getting ready to call my bluff. I’ll either need to fold this hand or have something good.

God, I love this game.

I look at the cards in my hand. Two kings. Close to a seventy percent chance of winning against almost anything but pocket aces. This time, when I raise, the two players who were studying me at the deal match my raise.

The flop has a queen, a king, and a ten.

The turn card is the king of diamonds.

The river gives us a jack. There’s a chance someone has a straight, but the suits in the community cards are off, so it won’t be a straight flush, the only thing that could beat my four kings.

“All in.” I push all of my chips to the center.

The two remaining players do the same.

We lay down our hole cards over to show the table, and like I already knew, they don’t have anything. Two pairs each. Not good enough to beat my four of a kind.

The two men each give me a nod as they rise to leave the table, out of chips and out of the tournament. I offer them a smile, the first one I’ve let cross my face since I sat down at the table.

* * *

Cam hands me a Jameson on the rocks. It’s exactly what I need after a full day of poker. As much as I love the game, tournaments can be draining. Practice sessions only last an hour or two and don’t really take the focus of a real tournament, and online gaming only lasts until I decide to log off. Tournaments, on the other hand, last all day, and you have to be on for every second of them.

I take a long sip, appreciating the burn as the liquor flows down my throat.

“Nice game today.” Blake nods over his own glass.

“Thanks,” I say, raising my drink. I made something in the neighborhood of a hundred grand today by being the ultimate winner of the tournament. I suppose I should put some of it in a separate account, on the off-chance Holly finds someone to fall in love with and I have to pay up.

But the thought makes my stomach twist.

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