“It wasn’t personal, Trick. They didn’t back us because they thought we would lose.”
“To hell with them. They reach out to me individually, you know, trying to convince me to make my own deals? They would burn you and ‘Vil in a heartbeat. They would gut C Crue.”
C smiles, seemingly unruffled that other organizations are trying to steal Trick away. Is C really unfazed? Or is that just more of the C Crue swagger that they use to cover their real emotions?
“I’m guessing the Leones have reached out? Because you didn’t care about them one way or the other last year.”
“They have. I said no meeting. Then they sent a gift to the hotel when I went to New York. The gift’s name was Candy. Returned unopened. But not before she offered to perform a blowjob in bondage for my little sister’s boyfriend.”
“Bet the kid was sorry you showed up before he got to take that for a spin.”
Trick smirks. “Safe to assume.”
“Here’s what I know. I’m going to New York for meetings. If you come, you can hear the numbers right then. And if I don’t like the deals they’re offering, when I tell them no, you can add ‘and to hell with you.’”
Trick rolls his eyes. “My pancakes and eggs are cold by now. Gonna have to nuke ‘em.”
Zoe wrinkles her nose. “There’s some leftover pancake batter in the fridge. And eggs in the carton. C said to make just one batch.”
Trick grins. “You told her not to make me pancakes, C? Did you say, ‘Trick made you cry. To hell with him.’”
“Something like it, yeah.”
Trick laughs.
“New York?”
“Yeah, of course.” Trick heads toward the kitchen. “When do you ever invite me anywhere that I don’t come?”
Chapter 15
Laurel
We return to the game later than planned. I play well, but have a run of bad luck and Trick plays flawlessly. He takes the lead, and I have sixteen hundred in chips to his twenty-four hundred. Then I have some good hands, bringing our chips to almost even. Taking off my sweatshirt is in part because the game room’s warm and in part because I know the tight borrowed tank is a good strategy. He switches seats so he’s not across from me, but trying not to look at me puts him at a disadvantage. C sits down right next to me and puts an arm around the back of my chair, claiming he wants a tutorial since I’m playing so well. It flusters me, just as he intends, but I stumble through because I get decent cards.
Getting a great and unlikely hand excites me, but because I’ve been waiting for it, I think I mask my reaction. Instead I show the fake tell of biting my thumbnail that I’ve been using, hopefully surreptitiously, since last night. In high school I bit that nail when I was nervous, and it took me years to break myself of the habit. It recurred without my realizing during the Boston poker game. The next day I noticed the thumbnail was chewed to the quick.
Since we started this game, I’ve bitten that nail on and off, including during a strategic bluff.
Now I go all in, holding my breath. Have I fooled him by turning a real tell into a fake one?
Trick goes all in, taking the bait. Turning over my cards, they all see I wasn’t bluffing. My straight flush beats his three of a kind.
I win everything.
Trick sits back and stares at the ceiling.
“Fuck. Did not think you had it,” C says, shaking his head, but smiling. “Good work.”
Anvil beams and shakes my hand.
“Thank you so much, Sasha. Really. You helped me stay in the game last night.”
“Let me show you something,” Anvil says.
“Give me just a minute.” I go to Trick’s chair and sit on his lap.
“Tell me you cheated,” he says, still looking at the ceiling.
