There were nine of us sitting around, but Nick, Owen and Eli had moved away to take phone calls and had ended up getting into some conversation about politics that I was staying well away from.
Sophie dealt and we fell quiet. Owen brought over beers and a glass of something fizzy for Sophie, then the game started.
Being here, in a different country to my home one, made me think of the amount of time I’d spent away from England. At one point I think we’d been touring for about eighteen consecutive months, hotel to hotel, place to place, with nowhere being home anymore. Things slowed down in the last five years; a couple of my band mates became fathers and long tours a thing of the past, but we did a tour of Asia and the North America two years ago to promote the last album, a mammoth nine-month trek discovering the world’s best and worst hotel rooms, or some night sleeping on the tour bus because we were in the middle of nowhere.
Even five years before, it would’ve been fun, but it was the tour that ended it. The lifestyle. Three years on and we’d all reached the point of having had enough. Three more kids had arrived, my bass guitarist was going through a fucking nasty divorce, and sharing space with the people I’d pretty much grown up with had lost its appeal after four weeks. Rabbie and I were the only two interested in hitting up bars and clubs, but even that wore thin after the media started hounding us and girls we pulled sold a couple of stories.
So we played poker instead as we toured through Japan, keeping out of the way of the press and superfans that stalked us desperately, hunting for any piece of us that they could get. And we got quite good at poker.
“I’m out.” Seph folded. “It takes a man to know when he’s beat.” He folded his arms.
“Thought you were going to leave a rich man.” Sophie threw a twenty into the centre of the table, raising the stakes.
“We’ll be playing all night. It also takes a real man to know how to pace himself.” Seph took a drink from his third beer.
“Real men don’t use the phrase ‘real men’.” Jackson elbowed his brother. “You’re just a dick.”
Seph just smirked.
“You still in?” Sophie’s words were directed at me.
“Definitely.” I threw in a twenty. Three more joined us. We carried on playing. A few more from Victoria’s hen party had joined us. Ava, a slim woman with blonde hair (yet another Callaghan) was sitting with her boyfriend, Eli; another blonde was with Owen and the guy friend of Victoria’s. They were half watching the game and partly talking.
Except Sophie.
Sophie was engrossed with her cards and what was being exposed on the faces of her competitors. I knew I could keep a blank expression – it had been necessary for dealing with the press.
Jackson folded with a groan. “Ever since that night at Owen’s I just can’t win.”
“Lost your powers along with your balls.” Seph muttered it.
Sophie spluttered.
It was just the two of us in. Her eyes were cold when she looked at me, totally devoid of any emotion or feeling.
“What’s your staff retention rate like?” My words were quiet, said while barely breaking.
“High.” It was one word. Then a killer smile. “People like working at my spas.”
“You must pay them well.”
“I do.” She didn’t rise.
She barely looked at her cards. “Do you like being beaten by a girl?”
“Who says I’ll be beaten.”
I was sure she was bluffing. She struck me as someone who would lead you on and be scant with the truth when it suited her. That was how it had been that night.
We turned our cards at the same time.
My flush, all hearts, should’ve been enough. On most nights it would be.
Sophie didn’t smile. She didn’t gloat or even look satisfied. Just another day in the office.
“Four fours.” Seph announced it. “Sweet. Another round anyone?”
“I’m in.” Maxwell had returned with a broad grin plastered on his face. “And I’m feeling lucky.”
