Tyson looked over at me and again I saw something alien in those eyes. What was it now? Was that interest? Had my little act with William peaked Tyson’s interest? If I kept this up I would break him down like a little baby in about oh I don’t know, maybe fifty years. Though the fact that I alone had managed to bleed the stone, even by as little as that, well it was good enough reason for me to feel pleased. He must have seen this because he cracked a little smile. That smile did more to unsettle me than any of his dead stares ever could. “That was well played, Marcus.”
“My hand?” Was that all I could think of saying in response to that scheming smile?
Widening his smile Tyson shook his head as he replied, “No, not your hand. But rather how you unveiled it, well played.” I looked down as the dealer finished sliding all of the chips to me, but when my attention returned to Tyson he finished his thought. “It allowed William to think he might still have a chance to win while in the end you crushed his spirit.”
For a second we all thought Tyson was finished speaking but I guess he just had to say one more thing. “Though I have to admit I thought you were bluffing. I’m very glad I didn’t call you on that.”
I found myself actually curious why he folded so I asked him, “Why’s that?”
With his face falling back behind his stone etched mask he said without emotion, “My flush would have lost to yours.”
As Tyson’s words sank in, I started idly fingering my stack. I quickly decided that I needed to get out from under Tyson’s glare. With a glance at the dealer I asked, “Do I have the small?” When he simply nodded I picked up the required amount and tossed it into the barren pot before standing up. “If you all would excuse me, I think I’m going to follow Allison’s lead and get myself a drink.”
Without waiting for any kind of response I turned around and calmly walked over to the bar. I just needed a few moments of peace and tranquility. When I reached the bar I was pleasantly surprised to find Simon standing there, though he was flanked by a couple of Dempsey’s fauxtenders. While I was sure they could help with grabbing a bottle or mug of beer, the simple things, I was pretty sure Simon would have preferred a couple of real bartenders to help out.
My intent was to deal only with Simon and I was walking directly for him, but one of the two fauxtenders tried to intercept me. With a curt wave I dismissed him altogether, I didn’t have the patience to deal with one of Dempsey’s inept minions, not right now. I stood and waited as Simon finished what he was working on before I called out to him. “It’s good to see that a true craftsman working the bar.”
Turning to look at me Simon smiled as soon as he recognized my face. “Well, unfortunately there isn’t much of a call for quality work. The players need their wits and those who have lost… well let’s just say they aren’t in any mood to have something complicated.”
“Artists are never respected in their lifetimes.” I said through a genuine smile.
With a lighthearted chuckle Simon tipped his head toward me as he replied. “Now you do flatter me.”
Willing to banter with this man I dismissed his modesty, and insisted on laying praise on his shoulders. “Nonsense Simon, you are a true master capable of mixing anything with whatever you happen to have behind your bar.” Cracking a smile I added, “Though I think I’ll disappoint you with what I’m going to ask for.”
“And that is…” Simon said deliberately stopping so I would be compelled to answer. He must make out very well when he didn’t have to work for Dempsey.
“Just another one of your martinis if you please.”
With deft hands Simon began to make the requested drink and while he worked he asked, “Typically I wouldn’t pry, but I’ve managed to catch a little of the tournament here and there and… have you been eliminated already.”
“No, I just needed a drink.” I replied. “I was planning on just getting some water but by happy coincidence you’re behind the bar.”
“There’s nothing coincidental about it, you’re not the only one who likes my skill set.” He said, flashing a look towards where Dempsey sat watching the tournament.
Taking my attention away from Simon, I looked over at the nearer of the two fauxtenders and spoke, with an air of command that I hadn’t thought I would have been able to muster right then. “Would you make yourself useful and get me a bottle of water.” The man’s eyes instantly filled with annoyance, clearly they were not accustomed to being treated like nothings. But with that said he moved very quickly to comply with my request.
When he placed the cold bottle down in front of me I said, “Just to show that there are no hard feelings between us hopefully you’re allowed to cash this in” and for some reason I tossed him a chip that I must have grabbed from my pile without thinking. And judging from the smile that blossomed across his face I guessed he would be allowed to do just that. Though I was willing to bet not many of Dempsey’s men warranted having the privilege.
Looking back to Simon I asked him, “How much are the drinks?”
“The martini is forty eight dollars.”
Leaning in I grimaced as I asked, “And how much for the water?”
“Eight dollars, sir.”