Loud.Veryloud. He slams a hand on the table after the flop. Doesn’t say anything at first, just sucks his teeth and leans back. Gio glances at him. "You good, man?"
He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes are on me. "Didn’t know they were teaching poker at poetry school in Canada."
A few people chuckle. I stay quiet. Just stack my chips. "How much of that’s beginner’s luck?" he pushes.
"You tell me," I say, not even looking up.
"You’ve been watching me win for twenty minutes." I smile.
That gets a louder reaction. He leans forward now, elbows on the table. "You sure you’re not hiding something?"
I tilt my head. "Like what?!"
He smirks.
"Like someone feeding your hands. Giovanni whispering you tips between rounds, so you won’t get humiliated."
My blood goes cold. Across the table, Gio’s smile drops. He sits up straighter.
"Watch your mouth."
Everything stops.
The guy turns his head slowly. And yeah, the look on his face matches mine exactly. Full shock.
"What did you say?" the guy asks, laughing.
"You slowanddeaf?" Gio mutters.
I feel my stomach drop. The guy pushes his chair back and stands. Everyone automatically leans back to make space, he steps closer to Gio, trying to look big.
Gio just lifts his chin and looks up at him. Bored almost.
"Am I supposed to be... scared now?"
Gio asks, all casual sarcasm. "Is this the part where you try to intimidate me or something? 'Cause you're not selling it, man." He's too calm.
I hate when he's this calm. It means he's past annoyed.
I clear my throat. "Um, if it's just about the money, I can give it back. I don't need it." I shrug weakly. "It's not a big deal."
The guy's head whips toward me. "Oh please," he snaps. "Don't start playing fucking charity now, baby boy."
Gio kicks him lightly. He taps his chest with two fingers. "Right here," he says to the guy.
"You're talking to me, not him. Why do you think our baby boy is stealing?"
The guy's jaw works. No sound comes out. I can literally hear my pulse in my ears.
"Don't do that clueless act with me," the guy finally manages, looking between us. "Gio, we're not playing for the first time. He's won how many hands now? And you expect me to believe he's just lucky?"
Gio laughs. "He's winning because he's got an actual fucking brain," he says. "Andmaybebecause you hold your cards out like a kindergarten kid showing off a drawing. Anyone with eyes can see them. That's just you being careless."
He leans back in his chair. "Maybe that's a sign you should quit. I don't know."
The guy glares.
"Why the fuck are you defending him so hard? He beat you too. He's taking money off all of us. He's robbing us right in front of our faces."
