Page 115 of His Ruthless Match
“I can’t. There’s too much to do.”
“Your brain will fry if you keep going. How about a card game? Something to slow that overthinking mind of yours before bed.”
Eva shot me a skeptical glance, her fingers pausing over the keys. “A card game? What are we, seventy?”
“Rummy,” I declared, standing up with a dramatic flourish. “It’s a classic. And I’ll even teach you if you don’t know how to play.”
She sighed, dragging it out for effect, but finally closed her laptop with a resigned click. “Fine. But only because my eyes are burning. Just a quick break.”
I grabbed a deck of cards from the drawer and set up at the small dining table. Eva sat across from me, watching with a mix of curiosity and amusement as I shuffled the deck with a practiced flourish.
I grinned. “Impressed?”
She rested her chin on her hand. “Was this part of your assassin training?”
“Of course. Card games are crucial for espionage,” I said, dealing the cards. “Okay, the rules are simple. You want to create sets and runs. Three or four of a kind, or consecutive cards of the same suit.”
Eva stared at her cards, frowning as if they were written in another language. “This feels complicated already. I’m not sure I can learn something new this late in the day.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not rocket science, Delgado. Just match stuff. Even you can handle that.”
“Gee, thanks,” she replied dryly, but she was smiling at me. It was hard to resist teasing her when she gave me those reactions.
As the game progressed, Eva began to pick up the rules, though not without a fair amount of grumbling. “So, I can pick up a card from the pile if I need it?” she asked, squinting at her hand.
“Yes,” I said, exasperated. “I’ve explained that three times.”
“Just making sure. I wouldn’t want you to cheat me.”
“Cheat you?” I scoffed. “Delgado, I’m hurt.”
Eva suddenly gasped, her eyes wide with horror as she stared over my shoulder. “What?” I asked, instantly on alert.
“Rat,” she screeched, scrambling onto her chair and pointing toward the corner of the room. “There’s a rat!”
Twisting in my seat, I scanned the floor. “Where?”
“Near the bookshelf! It just ran past!” Eva’s voice was pitched high, and she clutched the back of her chair like it was a lifeline.
I stood, the chair scraping against the floor. “All right, let’s deal with this.”
The small, furry creature darted along the edge of the room, and I hurried after it. Eva’s shrieks rang through the room as the rat changed direction, heading for the kitchen. “Shit, shit, it’s coming this way,” she yelled, climbing onto the table.
Grabbing a nearby throw pillow, I launched it at the rat, missing entirely. The pillow collided with a lamp, which toppled over with a loud crash.
“Jareth! You’re destroying my apartment!”
The rat scurried behind the refrigerator, and I yanked open a kitchen drawer, pulling out the largest knife I could find.
Eva’s eyes widened in alarm. “What are you doing with that?”
“What does it look like? I’m going to stab it.”
“Stab it? Are you serious?” she exclaimed, horrified. “That’s barbaric!”
“Delgado, it’s a rat, not a dinner guest,” I said as I peered under the fridge.
I jabbed the knife into the narrow space a few times, grunting in frustration as the rat evaded me. “This little bastard is fast.”
