Page 28 of Inflame

On our way to the table game section of the casino, we pass by Graham and a drunk looking Angie.

“Can’t keep up with the high rollers?” I ask, looking down at Angie and smiling.

“This is what free drinks do to my girl. Loses count and ends up wanting to sleep anywhere she can.”

“See you guys in the morning,” Claire says. “Nic is planning the entire day. I lost a—”

“Just planning where we are eating breakfast,” I correct. “Everything else is all on Claire.” Her eyes dart up to mine, and I just act like that was part of the original deal. When she lost the bet, I saw the color drain from her skin. There is no way I can go through with the original bet. I doubt if I win tonight, I can go through with this new one either.

Graham nods. “Have a good night. Gotta get this one to bed.” Angie gives us a disoriented wave and teeters on her feet. Graham braces her and ushers her toward the main entrance.

“Playing a table game was my idea, so I can buy us both in,” I reassure.

Claire opens her mouth to argue but then thinks twice and shuts it. She follows me to the roped-off section where several tables are already in progress. We find one that is about to start up and take our seats. I pay the dealer in exchange for our sets of chips. She goes over the amounts and then those in the big blind and small blind positions add their chips preemptively to the center of the table.

I am glad that Claire and I are seated opposite of each other. I really need to be able to see her eyes and mannerisms to see if she has any tells.

Cards are dealt and I look at my six and eight of clubs. Nothing to brag about for my starting hand. When it gets to my turn, I check and wait for the flop. Claire raises, forcing a few people to fold. She is the only female at the table, and I can already feel my blood pressure rising over some of the looks she is getting. She is so focused on her cards that she doesn’t even notice.

I call the bet and watch as the dealer burns a card before revealing a four of hearts, a five of diamonds, and a jack of diamonds. I need a seven to complete my straight. I have no chance at a flush or a full house. I don’t even have a pair. I place a small bet that knocks out the remaining players, except for Claire. She glances at her cards, swallows, and fixes a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I will raise.”

Fuck.

I watch as she puts in the money for what I originally bet and adds a few more chips to the stack. Is she slow playing me and milking me out of as much money as possible?

I call and throw in the chips needed for the turn card to be revealed. The dealer burns and flips a six of diamonds. Even though I now have a pair of sixes, there are three diamond cards on the board. If Claire is holding two more diamonds, she definitely has me beat. I want to know what she has.

I check. She bets. I call. The river card is a seven of diamonds. Of course. I catch my straight, but the odds that Claire is holding another diamond—she just needs one now—is highly probable. Shit.

I bet high. Triple what my previous bets have been. Part of me wants her to call so I can see her hand and learn from her methods. The other part of me wants her to fold so I can collect this huge pot.

“Re-raise.”

Is she for real? I watch as she adds more chips to the growing stack. I am so invested that it would be stupid to drop out now.

“Call,” I grind out, adding the correct amount. I turn over my cards. “I have a straight.”

Claire flips her cards over. “I just have two pairs,” she says, showing her Jack of spades and her four of diamonds.

I shake my head at her. “You also have the winning hand with a flush.”

“Huh,” she says, looking at the five cards in the lineup and her two. “I guess I do. I always forget to look at the little black and red pictures.”

The men at the table laugh, and I can tell they are putting her in the I-am-just-here-for-fun category. I know she’s playing us all. She knew she had a flush. I can tell by the crinkle of her eye that she is acting to try to get everyone here to think she has no clue what she’s doing. I know better.

And deep in the pit of my stomach, I feel proud of her. She can hold her own and stay confident.

We play a few more hands, and I regain some of my chip stack. A couple of players get eliminated early on. Claire and I are dominating the table. She is not letting anyone push her around with their hefty bets. In fact, I am nearly positive she bluffed her way to winning a huge pot when one of the young players—probably just turned twenty-one—tried to get her to drop out before the turn.

I fold when necessary and watch Claire like a hawk even when I am out of the hand. I can pick up signals from her when she has a good hand versus when she doesn’t. It is subtle though. If I wasn’t already tuned in to her, I would miss a lot of the twitches and breathing pattern changes.

The waitress keeps the drinks coming. I sip on a rum and coke, checking my hand to see a pair of kings. This is my best starting hand so far. I check and hope that I do not reveal that I have something good. As usual, Claire raises pre-flop and knocks out the only two other players other than us at the table.

“Call,” I grunt, adding my chips to the pot.

The dealer reveals two, two, king. I look down at my cards even though I know exactly what I have. I need to make it look like I forgot. “Check.”

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