When all five cards were in my hand, I fanned them out close to me. I had the two of spades, three of diamonds, seven of hearts, ten of diamonds, and three of clubs. I had nothing.
“Ms. Reardon, pass or bet?” Milt asked.
I slowly lifted my gaze to Terrance. He still had a dirty look on his face. Might as well make him sweat. The game was about bluffing as much as it was about the hand that was dealt. I could start us off with a bang by betting half of my money—make a statement. That might serve to show them I was crazy, and I did want to be taken seriously, be professional, and handle my situation like an adult, not like some lunatic.
I counted out ten black chips then pushed them to the middle of the table.
“Bet is a thousand,” the dealer said.
Oscar, the Halle lookalike, and Dillon each bet a thousand. Studying me, Terrance stalled before dumping his thousand into the pot. I didn’t have an ace, but I only discarded two cards—the seven of hearts and the two of spades. I was left with a pair of threes and a ten of diamonds. I wanted to keep my highest card.
When everyone was ready, Milt dealt the appropriate number of cards to each player. Perspiration coated my underarms. As I picked up the two cards, placing them behind the others, I willed my hands to stop shaking. Then I checked the cards one by one.
“Ms. Reardon, it’s your bet,” the dealer announced.
I had three tens and a pair of threes—a full house, which was the fourth best hand to have outside of a four of a kind, straight flush, and royal flush. Since I’d started off with a bet of a thousand, I continued with that amount, placing my chips in the pile. In my mind, it wouldn’t be appropriate to lower the bet. That would infer I didn’t have anything or that I’d screwed up by getting rid of the wrong cards.
Oscar folded. Halle matched my bet. Dillon folded. The bet was to Terrance. He checked me, then his cards, then looked at me again, his expression blank.
“I’ll see your thousand and raise it by two thousand.” He counted his chips before plunking them into the pile.
“Ms. Reardon, the bet is to you,” the dealer said. “Two thousand to stay in the game.”
Oscar lit up a cigar. Dillon’s eyebrows furrowed. Terrance sat back, plastering a smug grin on his face. Everyone at my table watched me intently as the room dropped into a thick silence.
I wanted to check on Kelton, but I didn’t want to be distracted. Nor did I want people to think I was seeking help. So I stared at my cards, thinking. The pot totaled ten thousand dollars. Twelve if I matched Terrance’s bet. I had a full house. Three other poker hands topped what I had. Terrance had more experience than me, and I had eight thousand dollars remaining to play more hands. So I wasn’t in any danger of running out of money yet. But if I could come out of the game as the big winner, I’d win seventy thousand dollars provided I didn’t make stupid decisions. A wild laugh broke out in my head. Sitting there was a stupid decision. No, it was a desperate one. Leave now. Get up gracefully and walk out the door. Let the legal system take care of Terrance. But if you win, the money will help you get on your feet until the courts resolve your case.
“Ms. Reardon,” the dealer prodded.
I glanced at Terrance.
“You don’t belong here, Elizabeth.” Terrance looked down his hooked nose at me.
I bent the cards as a desire for vengeance overtook the impulse to leave. I peeked at Dillon. He shook his head with the barest movement. Whether Terrance was an expert at the game or not, at that moment, nothing mattered except revenge. Sitting across from him, seeing his condescending mug, remembering my dad and how he’d admired Terrance, I wanted to physically harm him. He was betraying my dad and the tight friendship they’d had. That thought alone made my blood boil.
“I’m all in.” I slid all my chips to the center.
Gasps, chokes, and guffaws chimed around the table and from the audience at the bar. The brunette, who was waiting to bet, threw her cards down. Dillon drilled his gaze into me.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Terrance asked. “Your father was stupid like that, too.”
“Come again?” The hairs along my arms stood at attention.
“I’m not repeating myself. And that was an amateur move.”
God, I was a fool to think Terrance would help me. “And you think you’re not stupid? Do you think stealing all of my inheritance was wise? Do you like taking from a woman who just lost her parents?” I planted my hands on the table, ready to attack him.
Dillon cleared his throat.
Yeah, no trouble. I got it. But this jerk had laid down the gauntlet. No way in hell was Terrance getting away with anything. So much for being nice, calm, and professional. Fuck all that. “My father did have a fault, and that was trusting you.” I locked my jaw so tight I swore my teeth were about to crack.