“Nice hand. Next.”
They went around. There were two people who showed two pairs, one with three deuces, and two bluffers, including the librarian, who’d just gotten caught up in the excitement of the moment. Victoria bounced up and down in her chair when it was her turn and flipped over a straight with eight high.
“Sorry, Susan, straight beats three of a kind.”
“Fuck!”
Raven pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. Damn, she liked this group. “Morgan, show your cards. This is it.”
Morgan’s French-manicured hands flashed as she flipped them over. Raven figured she’d lost, since there wasn’t a shred of emotion in her face. Five hearts stared up at her.
“Flush. I win.”
Raven’s mouth dropped open. Sydney screamed, the ladies cursed and congratulated in varying degrees, and Morgan finally broke out in a big, satisfied smile.
That woman had balls.
Everyone began taking out more money to play another round, but Raven held up her hand. “Sorry, ladies, we’re done. It’s almost ten and I have to work tomorrow.”
Sydney gasped and shot up. “Oh, my God, my poor sitter! How did it get to be this late?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t keep my eye on the time,” Morgan said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Things got a bit crazy.”
Raven grabbed the wad of cash, quickly wrapping it in a rubber band and putting it in an envelope. “There’s your winnings,” she said. “I can’t wait to see you hustle Cal. You’re really good.”
A frown creased her brow. “Yeah, but I get the feeling he was humoring me about poker. Almost patting my head, like I was some lamebrained blonde who couldn’t play a man’s game. Isn’t that a bit archaic?”
Susan came over. “I agree! My husband laughed and said, ‘Enjoy your cute poker game.’ Cute? Screw him.”
Lindsey agreed. “My boyfriend said you wouldn’t be able to teach me right, Raven. Told me he’d teach me the right way.”
Raven tilted her head, considering. “Got it. Well, it’ll take a few more game nights to increase your skills, but I’ll show you some simple ways to make sure you beat them when we finally combine male and female poker night.”
“How?” Sydney asked.
Raven smiled slowly. “I’m going to teach you to cheat.”
Sydney sighed. “I really love you.”
Raven laughed, made sure each of them blew into the Breathalyzer, then watched them disappear one by one until the bar was finally silent.
Damn, that was fun.
She began cleaning up, wondering when Dalton would show. Maybe she’d text him to cancel. Or maybe he’d texted her already—she needed to check her phone. It was already late, and though she ached to see him, her emotions were still complicated. Another day to clear her head might not be a bad idea.
She was headed to the sink with the glasses, figuring she’d load them in the dishwasher for tomorrow, when the door swung open. Damn, she’d forgotten to lock it. Maybe one of the women had forgotten something, or Dalton was here.
Raven exited the kitchen and froze.
A strange man stood before her. Even though it was a hot night, he had a gray hoodie pulled over his head, with baggy jeans and dirty sneakers. A scruffy beard hid the lower half of his face. He was short—only about five foot six maximum, and his brown eyes were small and overbright, as if he was on something. He swayed back and forth, glancing wildly around the bar.
He held a gun in his right hand.
In that instant, her mind stopped. She stared at him with a touch of confusion, then began realizing she was in big trouble and had better get her shit together. Her palms sweat, and her heart pounded so hard, there was a roaring in her ears. For an instant, her vision blurred with panic and choking terror. She had no alarm system—the cost had been astronomical and she’d figured she’d revisit it later. Her gun was in a locked drawer in the kitchen, and right now it was completely useless. No time to run back there and get it; it would take too long to fumble with the key. Why hadn’t she locked the door? She always locked the door—it was a habit completely ingrained. What was she going to do?
Be calm. Wait for your opportunity.
Years of boxing and karate and self-defense training suddenly burst inside her brain in trickling snippets of advice. She swallowed back the crippling fear and remained still.
“You alone?” His voice was slightly cracked, as if he was on the edge.
“No, there’s people in the kitchen who are calling the police. I think you should leave.”
The gun rose, wobbled. “Fucking liar. No one’s in there, I watched everyone leave. There’s only one car left. I need money, bitch. Get it.”
She glanced at the cash register behind the bar, trying to plot, trying to be calm. Her phone lay right in front of her, close to the register. But the gun was a game changer.
Act weak.