Chapter 30
Cherry
Sean was furious with Cherry, and she knew exactly why. It wasn’t the dinner with Campbell. She’s persuaded him on that front. No, he was furious with her because Campbell had intimated that she’d been chatting about their personal life to him.
And she could see exactly why it looked that way. She would need to talk to him later and tell him exactly what had gone down, that Campbell had read between the lines of barely any information on her part.
Campbell could stick his dinner. Although, she’d need to find another way to get the money to the charity.
One thing to be pleased about was the tournament turnout. Over one hundred players were in the distillery. From the sidelines, scores of Kinshore locals watched, alongside photographers from poker publications and local newspapers. Freelance paparazzi and social media influencers were clamouring outside to get snaps of Connor, Campbell and Cara. It was priceless publicity for the charity.
But as she sat at her table with a mixture of locals andprofessionals, Cherry was struggling to think of much except Sean. He was chatting animatedly with his table buddies. She willed him to look at her.
It took some time, but as the table hushed for play to begin, for the briefest of moments, their eyes met and emerald flint bored into her. Then he bent his head down. No smile. No nod. Nothing.
Cherry let out a ragged breath. Okay, she’d played on tilt plenty of times. Gone to the table upset and compartmentalised. Why did this feel so different? Why was this like the entire world, not only the room, was tilting under her?
The dealer – a local man called Gordon – dealt the first hand, but Cherry could barely look at her cards, never mind consider how to play them. For the first twenty minutes, she was on autopilot, folding numerous hands, even those she might normally call or raise on, and then she started overcompensating and calling without thought. All she could think about was Sean.
He appeared to be completely focused on his game as if, by giving it his full attention, he was punishing her. But, like someone doling out a physical lashing, she could see the tension in the way he held himself. He hated this, too. Had to.
It broke her heart. He’d given her so much, and now he thought she’d betrayed him.
As she was folding another unremarkable hand, Jamie’s voice cut through the speaker system. ‘Sean Butler and Campbell Duff to Table Three.’
Table Three. That was her table. Sean and Campbell were being reallocated to her table.
Cherry watched them approach, Campbell hobbling across the room on his crutches, supposedly oblivious tobeing watched, Sean more interested in greeting some locals on the way and updating them on how he was getting on.
As they converged, Campbell nudged Sean. ‘Alright, pal. Looking forward to this.’
Cherry cringed, but an unflustered Sean took a seat with no more than a nod and an ‘aye’ in response.
Folding her fingers together, Cherry rested her chin on her hands, watching her husband settle into the table, smoothly stacking his chips with those beautiful strong hands. For a moment, his eyes glanced over hers but not long enough for anything to be said. They were strangers here. This was the side of him she’d seen during the poker game at the cooperage, and it was strong.
Tenacious. Focused. Determined.
Cherry kept her composure. She could do this. She’d been here a thousand times before with tenacious players.
But not when the tenacious player was her pissed-off husband.
Campbell sipped his whisky as if he were sitting on top of a mountain being filmed for an ad. Cherry tried not to let it distract her.
Come on. Focus. Win.
But she couldn’t care less about winning the tournament, or even this table. All she wanted was Sean.
Out of the tournament, Cara came over to the table. ‘Why so serious, Seany?’
‘Just concentrating, Car’. Try it.’ He at least gave his sister a smile.
‘How’s it going, Cara?’ Cherry asked her sister-in-law.
‘I’m loving this event,’ Cara said. ‘You excited about winning?’
Cherry smiled and shrugged. ‘It’s anyone’s game.’
‘I think we know it’s your game,’ Campbell said. ‘But don’t take it for granted, Chez.’
