Page 64 of When Ivy Met Mr. Holiday
This seemed suspicious. “Aren’t you a little young for Venmo accounts?”
Without missing a beat, Graham responded. “It’s a teen account under our mom’s.”
“Uh-huh.” I eyed them carefully.
“What, are you afraid you’re gonna lose, Uncle Jack?” Kaden goaded.
I was becoming quite fond of the titleUncle Jack. But these boys had no idea what they were getting into. I’d learned how to count cards a long time ago. It wasn’t something I was exactly proud of—but hey, it had paid for lunches back in high school.
I wasn’t sure how their parents would feel about their sons trying to hustle me. But maybe it was an uncle’s duty to teach them a lesson.
“All right, but just so you know, I prefer to be paid in cash.”
Kaden and Graham exchanged a look that said they fully intended to take me down.
“No problem.” Graham shuffled the deck a few more times, a little too expertly.
I dropped onto the nearest couch, a coffee table between us.
“Watch and learn,” I warned.
The boys shrugged cockily and sat across from me.
Admittedly, I was proud of their arrogant attitudes. But it was time for them to eat a little humble pie. “What do you want to wager?”
“Fifty bucks.” Kaden smirked.
“All right,” I agreed, “but I get to shuffle those cards once before you deal.”
They both looked like deer caught in the headlights.
“You wouldn’t be trying to cheat, would you?”
Both boys shook their heads—a little too fast.
“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about.” I held out my hand.
Reluctantly, Graham placed the deck in my palm.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
“Saved by the buzzer, gentlemen. At least for now,” I said, rising to my feet, still clutching the cards. No telling what they’d try to pull if I left them unattended.
But whatever satisfaction I felt drained the second I saw the name on the screen: Tori.
Swiftly, I headed outside into the freezing temps, shoving the cards in my pocket. The chill had nothing on the icy terror flowing through my veins. I’d hoped my run-in with Sienna the night before was just that—a run-in. But I should have known better. This was Sienna we were talking about.
Why hadn’t I already told Ivy? Damn it.
“Hello,” Imurmured.
“What the hell, Jack?”
I had been expecting a much worse greeting.
“Let me guess: You want to know why I was kissing Sienna?”
“Ding, ding, we have a winner. Or loser, in this case.”
