I squeeze my eyes shut, pinching them with my fingers. Maybe it’s the alcohol causing hallucinations.
When I open my eyes, the green arrow dives down into the glass, between two ice cubes, and begins curling and uncurling like an accordion, still aimed at Luke.
Maybe it’s not the alcohol after all.
The mint is frantic, pointing down.
Does Luke have something under the table that’s helping him?
I move the napkin to the right of my hand until it falls. When I lean down to get it, I take a good look at Luke.
Spilling out of his pocket is what looks like rainbow hair.
Not hair—mane.
Unicorn mane.
Luke Preston’s been stuffing magical unicorn mane into his pocket in order to win at poker.
That’s how he’s been cheating.
An idea snaps in my head. “I’m out this game, but count me in the next one.”
As I rise, I hear Luke murmur, “Must be getting tired of losing. Maybe he’s not as rich as we think.”
My back snaps tight and I turn around. “I’m not a liar.”
Luke levels his gaze on me. “Didn’t say that you were.”
“Yeah, you did.”
He winds a finger around his ear. “Hanging out at the Wadleys’ has probably broken his brain.”
I curl my hands into fists. “No. More like playing poker with you is making me dumber by the minute.”
Before he can answer, I’m at the bar, pulling Clarice aside. “I need you to do me a favor.”
“Does it have to do with Rowe?”
“No, it has to do with dropping Luke down several notches.”
“I’m in.”
“Luke, I made you a Long Island iced tea. How’s that sound?”
Clarice waddles up holding a tall glass filled to the brim with brown liquid.
Lust fills Luke’s eyes.
“Why, thank you, ma’am. See?” he says to us. “I told y’all that she likes me.”
Right when Luke reaches for the drink, Clarice drops it in his lap.
Luke jumps up and his chair crashes to the floor behind him. “Dammit, Clarice!”
“I’m so sorry! Must be my old hands!”
She makes a big show of dabbing his front pocket with the napkins she brought, but he snatches them from her. “Get away, woman,” he shouts. “Get!”
