The con artist flips the card, showing it’s one of the decoys, and the crowd chuckles. I laugh it off, pulling out another bill and placing it on the first on the table. “One more try?” I pout, and he obliges, shuffling the cards again.
I lose two more times, all the while pretending to be flustered. The dealer takes my money easily, flashing that cocky grin of his as he keeps up his smooth banter with the crowd.
My focus is on his jacket, and when he turns, I mark the silhouette of the deck on the inside pocket.
Gotcha.
Now to get close enough to take it without him realizing.
Before I can settle on a plan, he grabs my money from the table and pockets it with a flourish. “All right folks, show’s over!” he calls out with a satisfied grin. The crowd thins, some of the tourists dispersing with disappointment written on their faces.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“No,” I protest. “I want to try again!”
He pauses, turning back to me, clearly amused. “I’ll be back tomorrow if you want to give it another go.” He shakes his head, but there’s a greedy glint in his eye that tells me he likes an easy mark.
He reaches into his jacket, pulling out the deck, and I watch as he disperses the three cards we were using with the others. As he starts to shuffle, I catch the red flash of the ace of hearts within the cards.
Here goes nothing.
“I need my money back.”
There are still some tourists hanging around, and a few of them chuckle, but he only laughs at me dismissively. “You shouldn’t bet money you need, pretty girl.” He cuts the deck, making another dramatic shuffle, the cards flying from one hand to the other. The crowdoohsandaahsin admiration. He’s purely showboating now, his ego inflated by their attention and my desperation.
I pull out a hundred-dollar bill and slam it on the table in front of him. “If I can do what you just did, I want my fifteen dollars back,” I declare. “If I can’t, you get the hundred too.”
He looks taken aback for a second but then smirks at me, and I can almost feel the crowd leaning in closer to hear his response. “You think you can do that, huh?” He snorts, then places my crumpled fifteen dollars from my earlier perceived failures on top of the hundred. “All right. Let’s see what you’ve got.” He hands me the deck, shaking his head as if he knows how this is going to go.
I haven’t played with cards for eight years now, but after spending six months with Ace, I could do what he did in my sleep.
I take the cards, my fingers fumbling deliberately as I arrange them.
Let’s hope I still have it.
The tourists titter, and I pretend to blush, even hunching my shoulders as if embarrassed. The dealer grins as he leans backward, completely unaware that I’m maneuvering the ace of hearts to the back of the stack. Once it’s there, I take a breath, letting my clumsiness vanish.
I flick my wrist, and the cards fly seamlessly from one hand to the other.
Hah!
The crowd gasps, and when they do, I quickly slip the ace of hearts out of the deck, palming it so that no one notices.
Flicking my gaze up, I see the moment the grifter’s grin morphs into a look of surprise as I follow up with another trick. I spread the cards between my hands, creating a cascading wave as they move fluidly from one palm to the other. Then I finish with a clean one-handed cut, flipping the top card into the air and catching it effortlessly before fanning the entire deck out in a perfect arc.
I can almost hear Ace praise me, and it pierces my heart.
“That’s my girl.”
Yet, I soak in the phantom words and let a smile form on my lips as the crowd starts to clap, some cheering, and the dealer’s jaw drops. I keep my smile easy, innocent, like I don’t know the weight of what I’ve done.
Handing his deck back casually, I nod. “That was fun, thanks.” Then I reach over and scoop up my winnings.
He seems stunned, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to find words, but I don’t stick around to hear them. I slip back through the crowd, my money in hand and the ace of hearts tucked securely in my back pocket.
Once I’m out of sight, I pull out my phone and snap a picture of the ace, sending it to the unknown number.
Was that a friend of yours? Because if you think he was good, I have to disappoint you.
