We stop at the cashier, and I pull the envelope from my wallet. The woman opens it, counting through the stack of Benjamins. “Thank you, sir, ma’am.” She nods. “We’ll be drawing for seats in just a moment.”
“I can’t play,” Chloe hisses as I place my hand on her back again and direct her toward the table where ten cards lie face down.
“Why?”
“You just gave her enough money to buy a car.”
“It wouldn’t be a very nice car.”
Her eyes narrow. “I can’t lose that much money.”
“Yes, you can.”
She shakes her head. “Ty, I literally can’t. Go refund this. When you said poker, this is not what I had in mind.”
Behind her, Avery starts to move toward us. “If you’re scared, you’re going to lose. It’s when you play like it doesn’t matter that you win.”
Her brow knits. “That type of reverse psychology has never made any sense, for the record.”
“It’s five grand. We blew more than that at the club last night.”
Her eyes grow round with alarm. “Are you serious?”
“Fear is crippling. If you’re not afraid, you’ll have fun, and hell, you might show us all up and end up being the shark.”
She closes her eyes, a subtle shake of her head as she works to process my words.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please come select your seat,” Jericho says.
“What does that mean?” Chloe asks.
“You’re going to draw a card, and it’s going to say where you sit. This way, it makes it fair. Hopefully, you’re on my right.”
“Are you ever not confident?”
I grin. “See, you knew being on my left would mean you’d lose. You understand more about poker than you’re letting on.”
“Fractionally.”
My smile grows. “Draw your seat.”
“Mr. Banks, Ms. Robinson, what a surprise,” Avery says as he approaches us, drawing the card at the far end.
Chloe’s back goes straight, her muscles tensing, drawing my attention to her face, which is set with a defensive edge, her lips flattened, eyes narrowed.
“Small world,” I lie. I knew he would be here—it’s the only reason I’m here because as much as I love to play poker, Texas hold ‘em bores me, and it’s the only game Jericho ever runs.
“Welcome, again,” Jericho says. “If you’ll all please take your seats, we’ll get started. I want to introduce you all to Joseph, our dealer for tonight.” A man with tire tracks tattooed down half his face nods, his hands folded in front of him.
I glance at our drawn cards and frown when I notice she’s right beside Avery. “You okay sitting next to him?”
She looks at her seat at the table that’s between Avery and a man wearing a cowboy hat and a tan suit. “Yeah.” She slowly releases her breath as she moves toward the chair. I follow her, my intentions clear—I’m letting them all know she’s here with me, which will hopefully prevent attempts to intimidate her if she’s as novice of a player as she’s claiming.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” Joseph says as trays filled with chips are delivered to each of us. “Please feel welcome to place your drink orders at any point. If you need a waitress, please be sure to hold a finger up, and they’ll get to you right away. Also, as a reminder, the blinds are twenty-five, fifty.”
Chloe presses her lips together, but aside from that, she hides her shock far better than she did when she walked into the first Banks Resort.
The first deal begins, and rather than look at my cards, I briefly study everyone at the table, working to memorize their expressions because while everyone claims to have a poker face, few do. Minor details often reveal their relief or concern, and at least half of this crowd is here simply because they don’t want to deal with being recognized at a casino, believing their money makes them a celebrity. The other half is here knowing these guys are easy money.
Chloe folds consistently for the first ninety minutes. I can tell she’s nervous, see it in the way she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, and declines getting anything to drink. It’s her turn to be on the button, giving her the best position because she’s the last to act.
I fold pre-flop, and when a waitress walks by, I raise my hand to catch her attention. “Two Sazeracs.” I point to Chloe to let the waitress know one goes to her.
Chloe’s green eyes slide to me, and I nod.
“Call,” she says.
“Was wonderin’ if you were gonna play or just sit there and tease me.” The guy in the tan suit laughs, taking a drink before he looks at me. “Don’t worry, I know she’s hands-off.”
“She’s fucking eyes and thoughts off, too,” I tell him.
He chuckles. “Can’t blame you.” He leans back in his chair. “Call.”
The driver from the Aston Martin with black painted eyelids chuckles as she calls.
Joseph flips over an ace of spades, eight of spades, and a ten of hearts.
“Check,” Cowboy says.
“Check,” the woman beside him echoes.
“Bet,” the woman beside me with crazy long fingernails says, sliding a short stack of chips forward. If I had to place a bet on it, I’d say she’s the best player here.
A man beside her, wearing a tired expression and more diamonds than sense, folds.
I take a drink as I watch Avery smile—all confidence and bullshit. He pushes a tall stack of chips forward.
Chloe takes a drink. “Call.” She matches the bet.
Cowboy folds. Beside him, the woman with dark eyeshadow folds as well. Crazy-ass fingernail lady stares at Avery, running her nails silently over the felt table. “Call.”
I turn to watch Joseph flip over an ace of diamonds on the turn.
The pair of aces
