She removed two coins and flipped them between her fingers. “What’s everyone betting?”
Several new stacks of coins materialized on the table, and one man fumbled in his pocket and tossed out an onyx sea turtle.
“Turtles are lucky, right?” She reached out and set it upright.
He shrugged. “Not havingmuch of that so far.”
She gave a wide grin. “Well, maybe this is the round it changes.”
He stared at her with a glint in his eye, and she forced her smile to stay in place. Flirting with criminals was a dangerous game, but it helped keep them unaware. After all, she never lost—unless intentionally.
The first few hands passed in a blur. While the stacks of coins moved around the table with each hand dealt, Josephine focused on the cards. The goal of the game was simple enough: whoever got twenty-one, or closest without going over, won. A game of pure chance, they said.
But she’d learned over the years that if she kept track of the cards played, she would have a much better idea of the odds of a certain card being dealt toward the end of the deck and could bet accordingly.
She kept her first few bets small, adding numbers in her head until the odds shifted in her favor. Her fingers tapped the top of her card, a king of hearts. One ace remained in the deck and five face cards.
When her second card came, she lifted the corner. Ace. Years of practice kept her face passive as everyone placed their next bets. She slid all of her coins to the center, her racing heart betraying the calmness she portrayed. One of the men matched her without hesitation. He most likely had double face cards. The others looked at their hands again and two folded with furrowed brows. The last reluctantly added the rest of his coins to the pot and motioned for another card.
Josephine shook her head no when the dealer looked at her and her confident opponent did the same. He flipped his cards to confirm her suspicions and she bit her cheek to keep a smug look at bay.
“Well, hell’s teeth!” The other man flipped his cards over with a scowl. A face, a six, and a three.
Though she’d done it a hundred times over, the thrill that came with winning never faded. She turned her face card first, and waited a moment before showing the ace.
The man with twenty looked between her and the pot with narrowed eyes. “What kind of devil’s luck do you have?”
She kept her smile bright as she gathered the coins. When you separated a man from his earnings, no matter how ill-begotten, his true character tended to be revealed. And with this sort of lot, one could never be certain how they’d react—especially when losing to a woman.
It’s why she never joined high stakes games or played more than one round.
“I guess it’s more the luck of the draw. Or perhaps this seat.” She picked up the turtle, tossing it once before closing her fingers around it. “Well, gentlemen, thank you for the game.”
She stood before any of them could complain further about her winning. “I must get back to work. Next round is on me.”
The prospect of free ale wiped any remaining frowns from the pirates’ faces.
While Josephine wasn’t actually employed at the tavern, the owner of the Golden Lantern was happy to allow her to help out on busy nights. When the ship had sailed in earlier today, she’d headed straight there. The work kept her mind from other things.
Things like handsome sailors.
Correction, one specific sailor.
She slowed and glanced out the window into the inky night.
“You’re not still daydreaming about that Navy man, are you?” The voice snapped her attention back to the room as Colette approached.
“No.”
Liar.
Colette gave her a knowing look. She was probably the closest thing Josephine had to a best friend. Twenty years older than her, and a thousand times more worldly, the barmaid had taken Josephine under her wing after her mother died.
“Best get your mind off him. You know as well as I do, if he wentafter Thorne and hasn’t come back yet, he’s dead.”
Josephine’s stomach clenched. News of Thorne’s capture had reached the island a few weeks after Officer Caldwell had shown up asking for a ship. At first, she had been elated—perhaps her handsome sailor had survived after all. But her relief faded as time passed with no sign of him or her father’s ship. Now, only two days remained before her father would assume the vessel lost and send off the contract to collect his payment.
“Thorne?” The drunken slur of a nearby pirate who had just walked in interrupted her spiraling thoughts.
