“Poker, anyone?” Clayton asked, riffling the corners together. He pinched the cards and squared the deck, then cut it in half. “Texas hold ’em? Two-five, no limit.”
“Do you always have a deck of cards?” Jamie asked but didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re like Ruth with Sharpies in her back pocket.”
“I’m not playing with her,” Ruth said, nodding toward her boss on the couch as she stretched her interlaced fingers.
“Let me guess.” Clayton cut the deck again. “She always wins.”
“Always.” Ruth crossed her arms against her chest. “No one stands a chance.”
“I’m lucky.” Jamie shrugged. “What can I say?”
“I’m pretty good at poker,” Nolan said. But Jamie doubted it. The doctor was too kind to screw someone over—and that was the whole point.
“That’s what he said.” Clayton turned to his brother and smirked.
“That’s not funny, Clay.” Nolan glanced at Ruth and she laughed, so he laughed too.
“Just a warning—I’m about to clean up,” Clayton said, eyeing the players. “Seven years running I’ve been champion on the tour bus.”
But musicians didn’t worry Jamie; they were more like fish than sharks.
“I don’t play for money.” Jamie lengthened her spin and sat up straight. “I play for bragging rights.” She stood from the couch and walked over to the wall cabinet. “I’ll see if Shorty has anything we can use for chips.” She pulled down the Monopoly box from the shelf. “Will this work?”
Clayton nodded. “It’s perfect.”
Jamie gathered the fake money from the box and doled it out to the brothers before sitting back on the couch.
“I’ll be the dealer,” Ruth said, washing the cards on the coffee table.
“I don’t mind being the small blind,” Jamie said, throwing a fake dollar on the table. The dealer’s left was the worst position in poker, but AJ had taught her how to use it to her advantage. Her dad was a mechanic—a cheater—but she always played it straight.
“I’m the big blind.” Clayton nodded, placing two dollars on the table.
Ruth picked up the deck and dealt two cards to everyone, starting on her left.
Jamie watched the Langley brothers peek at their cards, lifting the corners just enough to see them. Nolan slumped his shoulders, while Clayton remained as still as a cardboard cutout, his expression unreadable. This might be more difficult than she’d anticipated. She knew Clayton scratched his beard when he was nervous, but tonight he didn’t so much as twitch.
Keeping her face neutral she flipped up the corners of her cards: two kings, hearts and diamonds. A fantastic start.
Nolan called, dropping money on the table, but he’d already shown his tell by how he’d reacted.
She waited a few seconds, pretending to weigh her options, watching his fingers drum against the table. Nervous. That was all she needed to see.
With a slow smirk she threw a dollar on the table.
Clayton stayed put, being conservative with his hole cards.
Ruth burned the first card, discarding it face-down, and dealt the flop, three cards facing up: a jack of spades, a two of spades, and an eight of diamonds. Three cards Jamie didn’t need or want.
Clayton stole another glance at his cards, like he’d already forgotten what he was holding. A sure sign of trouble. “That flop’s as bad as Derrick’s movies,” he muttered.
Across the table Ruth’s eyes widened as she glanced at Jamie, waiting for a reaction.
Jamie didn’t miss a beat. “Worse,” she said, deadpan.
Laughter rippled through the group.
Apparently Derrick’s last film had bombed so hard it took the studio down with it. The thought brought Jamie a small, satisfied smirk.
