“You want a slower beating, huh?” Rollins chuckles.
Henry rolls his eyes.
Peter looks down at his cards, worry etched between his two fluffy brows. “Just so we’re clear, we’re keeping our clothes on, right?”
Well, damn. His poker face is terrible.
Rollins scowls. “What do you think, imbecile?”
Baylor leans over so he can see my cards, and I breathe in his scent. It’s warm and woodsy. He looks down at my hand and gives me a quick rundown of what the best cards are to have and why. He’s patient and concise. It’d be constructive for a beginner, and I smile at that.
My first hand is trash, but instead of listening to Baylor and folding as I should, I raise.
“Raise!” I shout, throwing a red chip into the pot. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
Baylor lowers his chin and mutters, “What the hell?”
“That’s three grand, princess,” Jamie says. “You sure about that?”
Three fucking grand?
I swallow hard but keep the smile on my face. “Mmhmm!”
“Call,” Peter says.
Henry scans my face and smiles. “Call.”
“Call.” Rollins nods.
“Fucking call, I guess.” Baylor shakes his head and throws in a chip to match me.
Three hands later, I finally fold my losing hand.I try to convince myself the chips are ones and fives, but everyone keeps shouting their raises and reminding me how much Henry’s money is sitting at my fingertips.
Baylor is furious with me, so I shrug him off and tell him I don’t need his help. His realization is going to be so much sweeter than I thought.
My next deal is the high card, and I can’t help but play it through to get my chips back. I fold my next two hands immediately even though one of them is a straight, just to watch the rest of the table.
Peter is an easy tell. Everything is written all over his face the moment he looks at his cards. He is just quick to conceal it.
Jamie takes a long drink from his glass when he has a bad hand. It gives him more time to ponder the stakes and consider his next move.
Henry is harder to read, but he hates losing, so he doesn’t bet big unless he knows he’s got the highest hand. That habit hasn’t changed since the first time I played him.
Baylor is actually a pretty good player. He won a round with nothing, just by upping the ante more than the rest of the table was comfortable with. He takes risks and has a stone-cold face with zero tells. I think, right now, the only thing distracting him is me. He doesn’t want to lose, but he also doesn’t want to beat me. If I were really playing against him, I’d use that. But I’m not. I’m here to humiliate Henry’s company and leave them with empty pockets.
Rollins is a tricky one, so I study him the closest. Lucky for me, he’s playing like he never loses. That’s mistake number one. His second mistake is drinking as much as he has; his decision-making is hazy at best. And his third is underestimating the innocent blonde sitting across from him.
Luke deals a new hand, and I feel the adrenaline kick in. I’m done playing stupid.
I get pocket fours, which turns into a full house—the highest hand this round.
“Psh, that was lucky,” Rollins grumbles.
Jesse narrows his eyes at me from the bar and tips the corner of his mouth up slightly.
I throw back the rest of my drink and get ready for the next hand.
Jamie and Peter are convinced they have the better hand and blindly up the ante every round. They’ve already ruled out the rest of the table, and they’re playing each other like it’s a pissing contest.
