Page 114 of Underground Prince

Would be to forget.

Cassie and Noah, curled up on the couch as they watched a movie. Noah, catching Cassie when she ran up to him in a giant leap after being without him for mere hours. Cassie, confessing to me under the covers, beneath the bright beam of a flashlight, that when she grew up she wanted one prince and no more. True love.

I scraped at my eyelids, refusing to lose it among the aristocracy in this room, and shoved the door open.

Worse than Verily.

Georgie.

“What a pleasure,” she said as greeting.

“Pleasure’s all mine.” I matched her, tone for tone.

She poured four bourbons on ice, and I sensed she was sneering on the inside as she made room for me.

“Need help carrying?” I asked.

We were in some sort of side closet, not quite a kitchen, not quite a bar, but a hybrid of both with a short marble counter in the center and two levels of cupboards rounding one sharp corner of our rectangular room. Old-timey servants’ quarters, basically.

“No,” she said, cupping all four glasses and hip-bumping through the door I’d left open a crack.

Well, this was going to be a great cap-off to my day. I threw my jacket aside, and changed. The dress was a little loose in the hips, but draped over all the important bits. In less than two minutes I was tying my hair into a topknot, tucking the multicolored ends, and heading out the same way.

Karma was looking pretty good. Georgie was servicing the table closest to the double doors, with her Southern smile in her lace-lined black dress, and I had the table with Rada.

This was not a “What can I get you?” type of crowd. I hung at the sidelines, and passed the time hovering behind Rada and studying her hands. Her cards, that is.

There was an air of intelligence about her, and I hoped it translated into her strategy. The pot was huge by my standards, therefore the buy-in must’ve been at least five thousand. The flop was being dealt, and Rada’s hole cards were nine, ten suited. The flop was a jack of spades, queen of diamonds, and eight of spades. And what did Rada have? The nuts. The best possible hand, given the cards on the board, the possibility of a straight.

But.

If someone had two spades, they could get a flush if another spade showed up, which would beat Rada’s straight. She hadn’t bet much, checking and calling, slow-playing her monster hand, which I noticed (and hoped) would sucker the men in.

This was a live board—there was a lot of paint on the flop. Face cards. People tended to start with these premium cards. It increased the likelihood of scoring a high pair or better and put a player at an advantage moving deeper into the hand.

The ace of spades flipped onto the table. The turn. Two of the players pushed more into the pot. They were betting high, which meant a flush could be out there.

Either Rada was amazing, or she was an idiot. Because if that flush existed, and if I could see it, then Rada definitely had to know it was around. And she could get hit. Hard.

The river card was a four of clubs. A blank, doing nothing for Rada’s hand, nor probably anyone else’s. The two men bet big, shoving chips into the center. Then Rada, coming out of nowhere, raised.

Both men sat. Thought. And folded.

Rada either out-bluffed them or had the goods and was leading them on the whole time. Either way, she was a stud.

I liked her.

As Rada was collecting her winnings, the first man who folded raised his index finger—my cue. I bent down close to him and he mumbled, “Double rum with a splash of coke, no fruit.” I nodded, but he felt the need to reiterate, “A splash.”

No wonder. He’d lost a good three thousand in one hand.

I took a few other grumbled orders, nothing too complicated with this bunch, and headed to the side quarters, Georgie right behind. As we were on our way, I heard her catch her breath and turned to see if she almost ate the floor.

My spin only made it halfway. Theo came through the double doors, assured and suave in a charcoal suit as he nodded at the players and went straight to Rada.

“Theodore Saxon,” Rada said, offering her hand. “What a lovely surprise.”

With the expectation of a queen, Rada tilted her head to receive Theo’s kiss, but his eyes caught mine as he laid his lips on her cheek. He gave a second peck to her other side, and that was when I noticed a thick, purple-red slash under his left eye and painting his cheekbone.

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