“Fine. Keep it at fifty.”
The men’s shoulders soften, and Isaac smiles. “Maybe Pane’ll be our good luck and we’ll beat you this time.”
Luke winks. “I sure hope so.” After Ron deals us in, Luke talks as he stares down at his cards. “So, what’re you doing over there at the Wadleys’?”
Luke is trying to sound nonchalant, seem uninterested in the answer, but he’s got something up his sleeve. The man oozes snake-in-the-grass like no one I’ve ever met.
“He’s turning the place into a spa,” Ron blabs.
McCauley shoots Ron a look and Isaac scowls.
“Is that so?” Luke says, tossing away a card. “You know it’s gone into foreclosure.”
“I’m aware.”
“Let’s play, y’all,” McCauley growls.
Luke wins the first game with two queens. It’s uncanny that he’d wind up with such a winning hand, but it could also just be luck.
Clarice delivers another round of drinks. “Mojitos again?” Isaac grumbles.
“You better be glad that you got one,” she snips.
Luke glances up. “Where’s mine?”
“It’s up your ass, is where it is. You know I can’t stand you.”
He scowls. When she leaves, he mumbles, “She’s just pretending to hate me.”
“No, I ain’t,” she calls with her back to us. “Not after what you did.”
His face flushes red, but he quickly turns his attention back to the game. “So, you and Rowe ...”
I glance over my hand at him. “Me and Rowe?”
“Are you two, you know ... together?”
“What’s it your business, Luke?” Isaac asks after sipping his drink. “The two of you aren’t a thing.”
“No reason. She’s just one you wouldn’t want to be with.”
“Can we play cards?” McCauley says impatiently.
Ron folds. Isaac folds. McCauley and I stay in, but Luke wins. Again.
How is he beating us?
I lift my drink to take a sip, trying to wrap my head around what he’s doing. There aren’t any trick cards, he’s not pulling anything out from his sleeves—but the man is cheating, I have no doubt.
Just as I think that, the glass rumbles in my hand. I put it down, at first wondering if we’re experiencing an earthquake. But the chair’s not shaking. The building’s not moving.
Only my glass is quivering on the table.
The men aren’t paying any attention. They’re focused on McCauley as he deals the next hand.
As the glass quivers, the mint begins to spin like the hands of a clock, twirling and twirling, until all of a sudden, it stops. There’s a pause; then the three green leaves come together, making the shape of an arrow—an arrow that points at Luke.
Wait. I’m seeing things.Mint can’t point, and mint from a town that’s lost its magicreallycan’t point.
