Page 5 of The Side Deal
I push chips forward. “Two hundred.”
The turn card is a four of hearts. No help, but I’m pot-committed now. Tony’s forearms flex when he shifts position, and I notice a thin scar on his left hand.
The river brings a six of diamonds. Nothing. I have ace-high and a prayer. The bet is risky.
The pierced woman studies me for a moment, then folds. I win the pot, but Tony’s expression suggests he knows I was bluffing.
“Not bad. But when you’re playing with fire, eventually, you’ll get burned.”
Something low in my stomach tightens. I force myself to look at my cards. We play three more hands. I win one and lose two. Tony’s attention never wavers, and my bets grow reckless.
When I go all-in on a pair of jacks and get called by three of a kind, my stack of chips shrinks to almost nothing.
“Luck’s turning,” Tony’s tone is almost sympathetic.
I buy another hundred dollars’ worth of chips.
And another.
When my stack dwindles again, I signal the dealer. “Another hundred.”
The dealer glances at my remaining chips, then at me. “Cash or card?”
“I’ll settle up at the end.” The words come out smoothly, like I’ve said them before.
The dealer hesitates and his eyes flick toward Tony.
Tony gives a single, almost imperceptible nod. The dealer slides a fresh stack of chips across the felt without anotherword. No questions. No payment required. Just Tony’s silent approval, and suddenly the rules don’t apply to me.
The power of it sends a thrill down my spine.
Tony leans back in his chair. “You sure you can afford those bets? I’ve seen your type here before. People who look wealthy but can’t cover their losses.”
He thinks I’m pretending to be wealthy. I could laugh and tell him I can cover this table’s cost ten times over. But he’s being a condescending prick, and god help me, I’m turned on.
Instead, I smile coyly over at him. “Just trying my luck.”
Tony’s smile sharpens. “Let’s see how lucky you are.”
Lucky. The word echoes in my head, but I’m not thinking about the cards in my hand. I’m thinking about his hands. About getting lucky in a way that has nothing to do with poker.
The next hour blurs by. I miss obvious tells while stealing glances at Tony. I make poor bets, too distracted by possibility. I chase losses with reckless plays, wondering what other risks I might take tonight.
When the older man across from me lays down a full house that destroys my flush, my chips have nearly vanished.
“How much am I down?”
The dealer replies. “Fifteen hundred.”
Fifteen hundred dollars. Less than I spent on shoes last month. I could pay this with my credit card right now.
I eye Tony out of the corner of my eye, and pretend to be disappointed. “Fuck. I didn’t expect to lose that much.”
Tony stands slowly, and the grace of his movement reminds me of a big cat. “That’s how it works. The house always wins.” He pauses, his eyes traveling down my body and back up. “We should talk about this. Privately. My office.”
My heart pounds as I stand. I can feel the other players’ awareness as they carefully avoid looking at us.
I should tell Tony right now that I have the money to settle this debt immediately. That fifteen hundred dollars is pocket change.
