She held the deck in her hand like an amateur would. And with this ordinary grip she dealt three regular tosses around the table followed by a flawless false deal (A center deal? Good lord, was she center dealing?) to Carlo and another flawless false deal to herself. And then, when she had my undivided attention, she somehow still dealt three more false deals, the other three spades, to the table for community cards. Hell, maybe she false dealt all five community cards. I just didn’t know anymore. Understand, I was a master card handler. This was my area of expertise and lifelong obsession. And yet. A cobra. And then a duck.
Was I obligated to tell Ace?
Should I tell him about the expert at the card table who was fleecing him right along with everyone else? My relationship to Ace went back all of four days, but we had come here together—on a less-than-honest mission, true—but we were a team, and maybe that meant something. Or maybe he of all people ought to have been on the lookout for people like him.
Except that Ellen (Ellen! What a name. I’d been so gullible) was nothing like him.
My dilemma didn’t last long. Ace soon found himself low on chips and was becoming noticeably irritated. He made my decision for me.
“Get me a drink, Natalie,” he said when it was his turn to deal. I understood he was asking me to be his misdirection. Still, I didn’t appreciate the rudeness. His flush loss had stunned him and made him a passive bettor but an active asshole. I would get him the drink but let him lose his money.
He won that hand and took a small pot, but it mattered little, because soon Ellen was cleaning up. Her cheating was amazing, but her poker play was obviously very strong, too. Every time she won a hand, she glanced over at Ethan as if she were astonished by her luck. Was he in on it? I didn’t think so, but I no longer trusted my instincts. I bet a little, won a hand or two, but all I really did was mark time until Ellen’s next deal.
Once again her manipulations were undetectable. I kept my eyes on the deck while she dealt the cards, and Carlo went all in on two pairs, kings high, and soon everyone was out except for him and Ellen, who beat him with a straight, and suddenly Carlo’s chips were gone.
“Jesus,” he said under his breath, and cashed in for four hundred more dollars’ worth of chips. Unfortunately for the cheaters in the room, he started cutting the deck again, which meant no more false deals.
By eleven o’clock most of Carlo’s chips were gone again. Thanks to decent game play, a little luck, and the knowledge to stay out of Ellen’s way, most of my chips were still in front of me. Ace was down to a small pile. He slumped in his chair and shot me glances. He was down maybe three, three fifty for the night, not a nightmare loss unless you’d traveled a long distance and supposedly had the game rigged.
“We have a big drive ahead of us,” he said after yet another losing hand followed by a rude, theatrical yawn. I ignored him.
“It’s getting late, Natalie,” he said after the following hand. “We need to get going.”
I told him I’d like to play a little longer.
Carlo had said almost nothing for the last hour, his face getting paler. He checked his phone. “Yeah, it’s time for me to call it a night,” he said with little inflection. He cashed out his few remaining chips and after perfunctory good-byes hurried out the door, presumably directly to one of the casinos.
The four of us played a final hand, and then we cashed out and helped Ethan carry the leftover food and drink to the back counter. By now Ellen, the big winner, was laughing and saying to all of us how this was just so, so amazing and just crazy, and then she was saying good-bye and telling us that it was so great to meet us, and that this was just what the doctor had ordered. She kissed Ethan on the cheek and thanked him again.
I needed to get her alone, and it had to be now. I felt certain that once she was out of sight I’d never see her again.
“I’m going out for a little air,” I said to the room while Ellen went to get her coat. If I got outside first, it wouldn’t seem as if I was following her.
Ace’s hand was on my arm. “I need you a minute.” Despite my quiet protest, he led me to the alcove near the bathrooms. “That was some bullshit luck,” he whispered. “I’ll explain exactly what happened in the car. But it was some serious bullshit luck.”
“Okay. That’s fine. Whatever.” I walked back into the main room. The front door was already closing behind Ellen. “I really want to get some air.”
“You’re just drunk,” Ace said, louder than I would have liked. “You don’t need air, you need a cold shower.”
I glared at him. My arm was sore from where he had gripped it. “I said I’ll be right back.” But when I went to leave, he reached out for my arm again. “Let go of me!” I yanked my arm free from him and headed for the door.
“Yep. Definitely drunk,” I heard him say to Ethan. “Pardon us.” He followed me outside.
When the door shut behind us he said, “Well? Here’s your fucking shithole Atlantic City air, Natalie. How do you like it?” He shook his head. “I swear, I’m not gonna ride home with you if you’re gonna act like this.”
All the anger and frustration I’d felt from Ace’s weeklong display of disrespect—feelings I’d suppressed in the hope that he might possibly be the skilled cardsharp I’d been promised, that he’d promised me he was—I could suppress no
