Page 11 of Exposed

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Midway through her first morning back at the office, Madison’s Skype window popped up, but it wasn’t who she thought it would be.

TED: Hey, a good girl like you wouldn’t happen to know anyone who plays poker and doesn’t mind healthy stakes?

Madison loved poker, which launched an uncharacteristically sly grin.

MADISON: My poker’s not terrible, though it’s been a while. Got a game?

TED: Yes. Lost our fourth to love and marriage. If you’re good for Wednesday evenings, I’ll text you the deets. We have a game tonight.

MADISON: What’s the buy-in?

TED: Normally $100. I can cover you as it’s your first time.

MADISON: I’m good. My piggy bank is all kinds of healthy at the moment. See you there.

Yes! A decent poker game is just what I need to get my mind off everything.

The Lyft pulled up to The Carlyle. An iconic structure, the elegant and historic hotel rested in the heart of Manhattan’s Upper East Side. The hotel valet opened Madison’s door and helped her out. She let her eyes climb the length of the building, struck by the elegant lines of the architecture rising high above her. She continued through the brass laden revolving door to the front entry filled with stunning chandeliers and old-world elegance.

As Ted had instructed in his text, she headed to the concierge, ready to request an envelope. To her surprise, the concierge acknowledged her preemptively with, “Good evening, Ms. Taylor. I believe this is for you.” The concierge then asked if she could be of further assistance. Madison politely declined as she turned away to open the lightly sealed envelope.

On fancy Carlyle stationery the hand-written note read:

Let’s see what you’ve got, Taylor.

There was a quick inscription on how to get to the residential penthouse. Such residential rooms were only commonplace amongst elite hotels in major cities. Madison headed towards the elevator, finding the operator who also knew not only who she was, but where she was going.

When the elevator stopped, it opened to a lavish suite of magnificent scale, and a combination of richly wall-papered and wainscoted areas, brocade drapes, exotic rugs, and furnishings with an opulent yet cozy feel. “Hello?” Madison called out as she took a few steps into the grandeur.

“Well, here’s a hustler if I’ve ever seen one, and not in the prostitution way” the suave Latino said as he entered, wearing a satin smoking jacket in peacock-colored paisley, black satin pants, and gold smoking slippers. He held two pink cocktails. Admiring his ensemble, she mused to herself. He’s just over the top enough to be luring me into a strip poker match. An exit strategy might be required.

“Paco, I didn’t realize you’d be here, though I should have guessed that you played.”

“Hey, Madison, glad you could join us,” Ted said as he and Rex casually entered, beers in hand. Ted and Rex were sometimes referred to collectively as TRex at D.G.I., due to their strikingly similar appearance and mannerisms, though they were at least twenty years apart in age. Madison noted as the seemingly symbiotic leads of the IT department clutched their beers, they even sipped alike. “Paco’s been great about letting us use his place for this.”

“This is your place? It’s stunning.”

Paco handed her one of the drinks. “Grey Goose Cosmo?”

“What’s in the bottom” Madison asked.

“Two Griottines cherries, because I had a feeling you’d like it extra sweet,” Paco answered.

“Okay, but you’re not allowed to use your infamous mind-reading during the game.” Madison gladly accepted the coupe champagne glass and held up it up for a toast, solidifying their new card shark camaraderie. Paco joined with his twin Cosmo, and TRex brought their beers in. She took a sip of the recently poured drink, fresh with itsy-bitsy ice chips still floating at the top. “Mmm,” escaped as she sipped. The refreshing and energizing imbibement was just what she needed for the evening ahead.

“Before we go to the card room, you have a little something to remove, Miss Madison,” Paco insisted. Since seeing Paco in his robe open to his navel, Madison had loosely considered a convenient exit strategy, ready for just this eventuality. Having flipped through several alternatives, she settled for the old “sudden case of diarrhea” to quickly excuse herself from a strip poker potential.

About to ask for the bathroom, she realized Paco was using not so subtle glances to urge her to look down. She quizzically did and relaxed at the sight. They were all wearing gold smoking slippers, each with their initials embroidered on them. Madison burst out a relieved laugh. Well, relief coupled with incredulity at seeing Ted and Rex completing their ensembles with such elegant little slippers. They’d managed to carry off Mr. Rodger’s meets NASA engineer, now topped off by Liberace. She removed her heels, and willingly slipped on the cozy little pair laden with her monogram.

Paco led them to the card room, filled with golden art-deco accents, red wallpaper and black drapes. The octagonal, felt-lined card table was ready, with a small side table for each player brimming with charcuterie, berries, finger pastries, and an area for their drinks. He took his seat opposite from Madison, and Ted and Rex sat down on each side of her. Paco expertly shuffled, then dealt. “Five card draw. Nothing wild. Ante up.”

Everyone threw their chips into the center of the table, and Rex leaned over to Madison. “And if you lose all your money, you still get to play.”

“I love it. How long do you play for?” she asked.

“Until Ted starts his string of incessant yawns. A few hours at the most,” Paco teased.

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