“Go big,” she said letting the cue fly. “Or go home,” she added walking over to take the money and another kiss from Tate.
“Okay, she beats you in no time, steals your money and you still kiss her?” Fred asked. “Man you must love the girl something fierce.”
“You have no idea,” Tate stated winking at her. “But Dad got tired of me losing my allowance to Mel and then me getting ticked off when she beat me and stole my Skittles. So our new deal is whoever wins the game get a kiss.”
“And luckily for me I haven’t lost in…two years?” she stated purposely missing the break to set him up for failure.
“Jeez Mel, why don’t you just sink my balls, that’d be easier don’t you think?” he groaned as he walked around the table.
“So you all don’t bet money on games?” Adam inquired.
“Nope, just single shots,” she answered. “Right Tate?”
“Right and since I know I’m not going to have a chance in hell right now I’m not taking the bait.”
“Ooh…you’ve grown up Tate.”
“I still let you call me Tate, don’t I?” he replied as she took over the table.
“Yes you do. Now, what do you say we take this game…and make it a little more entertaining?” she stated before sinking the last ball.
“How much more entertaining can it be than you kicking my sorry butt?” he asked kissing her cheek.
“I don’t know; you can show me if you still remember the tricks Dad taught you.”
“At twenty a piece? Sorry I’m not that rich Mel,” he said hanging up the stick. “And since you’ve already torn my male pride to pieces on three games, I think I’ll pass.”
“You’re not going to join me and Dad at the next tournament?” she asked.
“Hell no, I’d go out in the first round. You and Dad can battle it out to see who wins; after that shred job you did on me this year there’s no way I’m ever going up against you professionally again.”
“Who’s your Dad?” Fred asked.
“What tournament?” Adam added.
“Just a little fun along the eastern seaboard, Dad managed to come out on top last year, but he had to beat Mel to do it.”
“That doesn’t tell us anything,” Fred stated.
“Alright…Mel?” Tate asked.
“I’ve got nothing to hide,” she admitted knowing no one could reveal her age and no one there cared either.
“It’s the Champion Tournament in Atlantic City, it’s for pros and amateurs.”
“Wait, the one Arthur Tatum’s won for the last ten years?” Adam asked. “That’s your Dad?”
“Yup and Mel is the daughter he never had, and he dotes on her. Probably because I didn’t love the game the way they do. He’s still trying to convince Mel to go pro.”
“I would too if I’ve managed to beat the winner of the biggest tournament even once,” Fred said with a laugh.
“Once? Mel have you been telling lies again?” Tate asked with a wink.
“I wasn’t the one who said I’ve beaten your Dad, you were.”
“I guess I was. Well let’s just say whenever we have nothing to do at our house and especially if it’s raining on Sunday, Mel and Dad take over the downstairs and play until one of them gives in, they reach a hundred and fifty balls, or else they can’tplay anymore because they can’t hold onto the stick. It can be a long day.”
“So how often do you win?” Jordan asked watching as she sank shot after shot without thinking.
