Page 6 of Ready to Score

Franny made work not only of studying her own hand and strategy but of the other players as well, trying to spot their weaknesses and tells.

Jeremy was easy. She knew him well enough to know that while the sweat beaded at his temples wasn’t necessarily out of the norm, the way he rubbed his index and middle fingers together like cricket legs was.

Lionel Price, the head basketball coach, had a knack for cracking his neck right before he folded.

None of them were professionals, not at playing poker and certainly not at hiding their tells. And Franny was too observant to miss them. The only one she couldn’t nail down was Dunn. The woman was stone-faced the entire time. She never looked smug, she never looked disappointed, she never even looked thoughtful. The woman could have had the worst hand at the table or the best, and none of them would have had a clue.

It made Franny steam in her seat. Each round, the fire in her belly was stoked as Dunn sat there, calm as you please.

Finally, after an hour of play, they took a short break. Landry went upstairs to check on the next round of appetizers, Ross and Price went outside to smoke a cigarette, and the other guys dispersed to chat about who knew what.

Franny spotted Dunn by herself at the snack table, putting a couple of mini sausages on a paper plate. Her guard was down, and Franny took the chance to strike. If she couldn’t get a read on the woman from the outside, maybe she could wiggle her way into her head.

Dunn took a sip from her red party cup, baring her neck so much that Franny couldn’t help but eye it. Slender and long, with smooth skin and a subtle scent that was entirely too heady for a basement poker game, she had to blink a few times to clear her mind.

“Good game,” Franny said, biting into a strawberry from the fresh fruit tray on the table.

The second Ms. Dunn’s eyes met hers, they narrowed. Oval-shaped, with dark eyelashes, her irises a light brown color. Not as light as butterscotch, but light enough that parts of them almost looked golden in certain lights.

“You too.” Dunn sniffed shortly. “Even if you do have an awful hand.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

Ms. Dunn shrugged. “I can tell.”

Franny scoffed.

“I’m serious.” The other woman laughed. “You make it very obvious, you know.”

No, Franny certainly did not know. She’d put a metric ton of her energy into trying to remain as impassive as possible. She kept her leg from bouncing, her eye from twitching. Hell, she even made sure she didn’t mess with her hair or face too much.

“What’s so obvious about it?” she asked.

“Now why would I tell you that? It’ll take all the fun out of demolishing your ass.”

Franny leaned in, trying to put something of a sneer on her face. “Youwishyou could demolish my ass, Dunn.”

The look on the other woman’s face nearly made Franny trip over her own feet while standing still. Her eyes went comically wide, and her mouth dropped open. She looked like one of those singing fish nailed to wooden planks.

Dunn’s eyes narrowed even more until they were basically slits on her face. Her lips curled back, revealing teeth. Franny supposed she was trying to make herself look intimidating. But the woman was shorter than she was and so soft-looking that Franny had to hold herself back from reaching out to stroke her cheek.

Which… no… absolutely not.

“Stop fucking with me, Lim,” she said, pointing a finger at Franny. “I mean it. I don’t know why you’re here or what you’re doing, but watch it.”

“I’m coming for your job.” It was a bold-faced lie, but damn did she love getting a reaction out of Ms. Dunn.

It was so damn easy too. Her soft-looking brown cheeks went a purply-red color, and Franny could practically see the steam pushing its way out her ears.

“I will eat you alive,” Dunn said.

Landry appeared at the bottom of the stairs, clapping once to get the attention of everyone in the room, letting them know that the intermission was over.

It was time to get back to work.

Franny leaned in close to Dunn, their faces side by side. This close, she could see the dark little moles Dunn had around her sideburns. She could smell her better too. That dark, intense scent that Franny didn’t think could be attributed only to perfume. So much better than the smell of cigars and corn chips in the basement that she took a split second to breathe it in.

“There’s no way you actually believe I’d take that as a threat.”

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