Page 77 of Meet Me in Montreal

“I’m staying in,” the man nearest them declared. He and the other two players cast questioning glances at the newcomers.

Santino calmly pulled out a chair, sat down and dragged it forward so that it made a deliberate scraping sound. Then he smiled at Scott with those bright eyes.

“Deal me in,” Santino told the dealer.

“Me too.” Bobby sat down across from Virgil and nodded at the dealer as well.

“Santino here is a shark. Watch out for him,” Virgil warned Scott.

The original term was cardsharp,but Vanessa decided to hold her tongue on that one since both phrases were now accepted. She had to rein in her nervous nerd before it popped out like her tits.

“Do you play, Vanessa?” Virgil followed up. There were four open spots left on the nine-player table.

“Oh, no. I leave that to my husband.” It was the second time that day that she’d freely referred to Santino as her husband without irony or pressure.

That made Santino beam. And it made Scott’s nostrils flare with barely suppressed fury. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he upended the table with one hand, sending the cards and chips flying like the Red Hulk on a Housewife show.

Nevertheless, she took a seat next to Santino to watch the play. A cocktail waitress came by to take their free drink orders. Santino stuck to beer and even then, he barely pulled a sip from the bottle, his eyes on Scott while the dealer told them the buy in. For this table, it was anywhere from two hundred to a thousand. This was actually low-end for Santino.

“The buy ins start a lot higher over at the reserve,” Virgil said. “I was going to suggest it, but I thought for your first time in town, you should ease into it.”

“One grand, huh? That must be like lint in your pocket,” Bobby quipped in response, but his eyes were unsmiling.

Virgil gave him a curious grin, but didn’t follow up. Ling cast Bobby a warning glance from over his shoulder.

The dealer started with the usual two cards per player. Santino was in the blind to the dealer’s left and was the first to cast a bet. After everyone else had cast theirs, with Scott raising the stakes, Santino put down more chips, his eyes fixed on Scott. Then the real playing commenced as they picked up their next three cards each.

The strangers at the table were fun and friendly, telling jokes and sipping mixed drinks. The woman confided in Vanessa that she was from Victoria, way out west. But as the play progressed and Santino and Scott kept raising the stakes, everyone else began throwing in the towel (and yes, Vanessa knew she was mixing metaphors.) The tension grew thicker as the two placed their final bets to the tune of ten grand. Eyes locked, seeking any telltale sign of weak hands or overt false courage, Scott laid down his cards.

He smirked with satisfaction. He had a full house.

Santino sighed, looking forlorn with the corners of his full mouth turned down before carelessly tossing his hand down.

Four of a kind. He’d won.

Everyone at the table cheered for the win and his excellent play while Scott continued smiling as if nothing was wrong while Santino dragged all the chips to his side of the table. But Scott’s eyes…theyburned. Burned in a way that brought back that same sensation as the night before, that feeling of being under threat.

Forget about being friends with this man. There was nothing good in his eyes when he looked at Santino, or at her.

“Epic play, bros,” Virgil declared, clapping for them both. “So awesome. Let’s go eat. We can come back and hit the roulette wheel after we get some food in our bellies.”

“I think I’m gonna cash out now,” Santino said. “We’ll find you guys when I’m done.”

The dealer signaled to a man waiting nearby unobtrusively, who escorted them to an area to fill out forms and hand over Santino’s cash win in Canadian dollars. He offered to exchange it for U.S. bills.

“We’re staying on in Canada a few more days,” Santino responded, taking the Canadian cash. “I might buy my wife something really sweet for being my good luck charm.”

After that, they went to find one of the three restaurants operating in the casino complex. Santino had made reservations in the one that was slightly more formal and upscale. The others were already there, having chosen their sides of the table and leaving two seats for Vanessa and Santino to sit together.

The server took their food and drink orders quickly enough. They chatted about everything and nothing important while they waited, about work, current events, politics. To an outsider, they probably looked like a group of couples enjoying each other’s company. But to Vanessa, who knew the tensions at play under the calm surface, it was a simmering underwater volcano.

The dishes arrived and everything looked good, and tasted great. While they ate, Scott didn’t direct any comments to her or Santino. Bobby repeatedly tried to draw Ling into conversation, but she would just laugh, toss her hair over her shoulder with a nervous flip and redirect to Vanessa. Zoe, in turn, tried talking to Juliette but was spending a fair amount of time staring between Scott and Santino and reserving a glare for Vanessa for good measure.

As nine o’clock hit, live music started pumping from another area, something funky and up tempo.

“I think after we finish up dessert, we should go work off some of this food,” Virgil suggested.

“Sounds fun,” Vanessa said with a smile.

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