Page 8 of Tainted Love

“Hm.” She snatches the glass from the counter and looks at it for several moments before bringing it to her lips.

“Why?” I ask, giving in to my curiosity.

She shrugs and her black blouse opens slightly to expose a little more of the pale skin of her chest. “Place seems pretty big for one person.”

“I like my space.”

She chuckles into her glass. “I bet you do.”

“Come with me.”

Her eyes bounce at the sudden request, but she instantly spins on her toes to follow me back out into the foyer and around the corner to the living room. I pause by the fireplace and bend over to grab wood off the pile.

“Oh, so this is your plan.” She sits on the arm of the sofa and stares at me.

“My plan?”

“Yeah, your plan. Make it all warm and cozy in here. Slink in closer and closer, whispering sweet crap in my ear…”

“It’s cold,” I point out.

“How convenient.”

“Ms. Vaughn, I don’t have a master plan. If I did, it would simply include sitting here, with you, getting to know each other over a game of cards.”

“Cards?”

I reach into a box above the fireplace and pull out a deck of blue playing cards. “I assume the daughter of a serial gambler knows a thing or two about poker?”

Her eyebrow twitches. “She does.”

I toss the deck at her and she catches it perfectly with her free hand. “Shuffle up while I get a fire started.”

I lower down, listening closely to her movements while I stack the wood. She slides the cards out and sifts through the deck to pull out the jokers before splitting it and shuffling the stacks together. My ears twitch at the tight, swishing sound of cards toppling together in her small hands.

I strike a match and light the ends of several loose papers inside to ignite the wood. It catches quickly and I sit on the floor beside it with my drink. The warmth tingles my fingers as I wait patiently to see what little Lucy Vaughn will do next.

Eventually, her feet shuffle over and she sits across from me at the other side of the fireplace. “Five-card stud,” she says, laying her drink down beside her. “None of that sissy hold-em crap.”

“Whatever you want, Ms. Vaughn.”

Lucy reaches for her purse and fishes around the bottom for some coins. “Ante’s a quarter,” she says, dropping a silver coin on the floor between us.

I grin a little wider as I rifle through my own pockets for change. She deals our hands while her soft eyes flick up at me between card tosses. My cards settle in a small pile next to me and I wait until she takes her hand before taking mine.

Ace of clubs, king of diamonds. The rest is trash.

“How long have you been dancing?” I ask her.

“Since I was six,” she answers, her eyes stuck on her cards.

“Sixteen years. That’s a long time.” I set the three trash cards between us. “Three, please.”

Lucy looks over at me as her wrist flicks three new cards into a small pile. “How did you know how old I was?” she asks as she drops the pile in front of me.

“I asked your father,” I explain, taking the cards. Ace of hearts but the rest is worthless. “Have you always wanted to dance?”

“Yes. Dealer takes two.” She discards and takes two new cards for herself. “Did he tell you anything else about me?”

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