Chapter Thirteen
Aiden
Carson leaves with one of the fangirls after my fight. Hell, I think he only wanted this manger gig to get chicks. I go back to my room and call Emma.
“Hey, let’s go out.”
“Go out? Did you take one too many punches?”
“I’m really sorry.”
“That was a dick move, Sheffield.”
“I was joking.” I feel like shit about it.
“Still very dickish.”
“Let me make it up to you.”
“You sure you want to be seen with a tent show like me?”
“You sure you wanna be seen with a fat ass like me?”
“It wasn’t your ass that was fat.”
Shit, I drop the phone. I lunge to pick it up.
“I thought you hung up on me,” she says. “I was just trying to make you blush. Are you as pink as Pepto-Bismol?”
Nope, just hard again. Thank you, Emma, for inventing some type of fucked-up time machine that makes me revert to my horny fourteen-year-old self.
“Not blushing. C’mon Cooper, let’s play. You’re all dressed up and I can get there in about twenty minutes.” Fifteen if I don’t jack off. “We’re in Vegas. When else can we live it up?”
It’s almost thirty minutes by the time I knock on her door.
“You clean up nice,” she says, giving my navy dress shirt and black slacks a onceover.
There’s not enough soap in the world to clean up my dirty mind.
She grabs her purse. “What do you want to do?”
“Poker.”
She looks at her watch. Then she realizes it doesn’t work and shakes her head.
“It’s around eight,” I tell her.
She nods. “Ask me again at midnight.”
“Is that when you turn into a pumpkin?”
She laughs. “No, silly boy, that’s when you find my magic slipper and defeat my evil stepsiblings, and…oh wait, you are my evil stepsibling.”
“Funny, smart-ass.
“It’s when I turn twenty-one.”
“Seriously, tomorrow’s your b-day?”
“Yep.”
“Well, I think we should celebrate tonight, and you should play at a real Vegas table.”
“How’s that going to happen? I can’t get into the casinos.”
“Who said anything about casinos?” I jerk my head toward the elevators. “I got an idea.”
“Famous last words,” she mutters.
Our destination is off-strip. And by off-strip, I’m talking Elvis shows, wedding chapels, and the world’s biggest hot dog place. I buy us hot dogs and try not to watch Emma eat hers. I’m just full of great ideas these days. Yeah, buy her some phallic food and dare your dick not to jump. What a fun game this is. In fact, why stop here? I’m sure she could go for a banana or, better yet, a Popsicle. Shit, what the hell is wrong with me?
“These are seriously yummy,” she says, holding a French fry under my nose. My stomach clenches in disgust.
“Get it away from me,” I snap.
She drops the fry, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I didn’t mean to go into full freak mode. I don’t eat fries. They make me sick.”
“Oh, ’cause they’re unhealthy? Because you can’t tell me the hot dogs are nutritious.”
“No, it’s not that. I hate potatoes in general.”
She peers closely at me. “In any form? Any variety?”
“Affirmative.”
“Allergies?”
“No. I just don’t like them…simple as that.” She waits for me to provide an explanation, as if there is some great insight to be gained by my dislike of this particular vegetable. Jesus, Emma, stop digging. “I don’t care for the way they smell or look.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting. My mom hated them, too,” she says. “Dad and I always thought it was the weirdest thing. She wouldn’t even buy potatoes.”
I take the empty wrappers from our table, keeping busy so my thoughts don’t wander into the real reason I hate potatoes. If I go there, I might get lost in the darkness, and I want to be here with Emma, where she shines even brighter than the Vegas lights.
With full bellies, we stride down the street to another little-known place. It’s a non-descript bar called the Elks, with a smoky back room where an old but shrewd group of sharks gather to feast. The rake is smaller than the casinos and the players more aggressive. Carson and I discovered the place the first time we came to Vegas. I brought Emma here because they won’t card, nor will they care, as long as our money is green and it spends. Tonight, they have four tables going. Two are already full, but the other two have a few vacancies.
“What the hell is this?” Emma asks, bumping into me as she spins around for the exit.
I hold her steady. “You wanted a real poker table. This is as real as it gets.”
“Are you crazy, Aiden? This is rounder’s shit. I’m a guppy in this tank. They’re going to slaughter me. I don’t even have enough to buy in.”
“I’ll stake you. C’mon, Guppy, when are you going to have this chance again?”
“I can’t let you do that. I’m going to lose your money.” She points toward the room and back at me. “I think I recognize one of those guys from the World Series of poker.”
I chuckle. “A few of them have been there, but only two of them have bracelets.”
“Oh, that’s comforting.”
“It’s only money, Cooper. Just think of this as a friendly game of poker.”
“There is no such thing as a friendly game of poker.”
“See? You’re talking the language of a shark already.” I place a hand on each of her shoulders and look straight into her eyes. “I do have faith in you, Emma. I did that day when you rescued the pup, and I do now. You are Emma the brave, Emma the fierce, Emma—the girl who stands tall even when her world is falling apart.”
She chews on her lower lip, maybe to make it stop quivering. She flashes me a weak smile and nods.
“Is that you, Sheffield?” Lou King asks me. Lou is a fixture at the Elks. I’m pretty sure he gets his mail sent here.
“Guilty,” I say.
“You come to lose some money?”
“Actually, I came to give you a chance to win some of yours back.”
“Well, pull up a seat, shit talker, and let’s get it on. I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.”
“Lou, as usual, I can’t tell if you’re coming on to me or giving me smack.”
Emma giggles at our exchange.
“Color us up,” I tell the cashier.
I say hello to Nan, who’s sitting next to Lou. The woman looks like a librarian, but I swear she’s a shark in sheep’s clothing. Etiquette dictates that Emma and I don’t sit at the same table to avoid any appearance of collusion. I plan to sit with Lou and Nan and let Emma sit with the harmless, retired math professors who think they have the formula figured out. They might beat her, but they’ll be nice about it.
My plans fold, though, when a man Lou introduces as the Joker pulls a chair back for Emma. She takes it without blinking. She wants the hot seat…I’ll let her have it. I’ll let this play out. In the meantime, I’ll hang with Dumbledore and the other profs.
I peer at her more than the players at my own table. She keeps her cards close, but her tells are easier to spot than the Eiffel Tower, and I’m talking the one in Paris, not Vegas. She tugs on her watch when she has nothing, she bites her lower lip when she’s nervous, she fucking grins with every good hand. Get your head in the game, girl. She loses the first two hands, clearly overplaying her cards. My little guppy is drowning.
“Hey, baby, we’re trying to take it easy on you,” Joker says. “Because you sure are easy on the eyes.”
Joker…what the fuck kind of handle is that?
She isn’t responding to him. Good girl. Don’t let him intimidate you, Cooper.
Meanwhile, I’m raking it in with the profs. I get a few bad beats, but they’re running blind when it comes to dragging pots and working the game.
“I sure hate to take your chips, but my hands are too strong…in more ways than one,” Joker says, claiming another pot.
Fuck it. I cash out. I can’t concentrate with the way this guy talks to Emma.
“Leave the girl alone. Let her play her cards,” Nan says.
Thank you, Nan. I swear—he says one more thing and I choke him with his own chips. I sit on a metal chair off to the side, observing the game. Joker’s got the lead with Lou in second place. A few minor players are short-stacking it, Emma among them.
Joker beats her again and it sucks ’cause she had a great hand. It really pisses me off when he rubs her nose in it. “See, I won because even though you have three of a kind, I have a flush. They are all the same suit.”
“I know how to play,” she says, her tone even, her face determined for the first time since she took the seat.
“Just trying to help you out, doll. This is a man’s game, after all.”
“Then why are you here?” she asks.
The table is silent for a moment, then Nan laughs so hard I’m surprised her cards stay in her hand. “I like this girl.” She winks at Emma. “You’re a spunky one.”
Yeah, Nan. I like her, too.
Joker narrows his eyes and rubs his goatee. “Just having fun with you, baby. I could show you the finer points of the game if you’re up for it.”
Like hell you will.
Emma arches a brow at Joker. “Did I stumble and fall when I walked in here?”
He gives her a toothy smile. “No.”
“Then quit trying to pick me up.”
Everyone at the table claps for her, except Joker, whose smile turns to a sneer. That’s my Emma—the brave, the fierce, the beautiful.
My Emma? My Emma? Where the hell did that come from? She’s not mine. It’s just leftover fuel from the fight. Adrenaline can act like alcohol sometimes. Yeah, it’s just a little psyched up energy that needs to work its way out of my system.
The Joker doesn’t quit. His gaudy gold rings scrape against the table as Nan starts shuffling the next hand. “Don’t you want to learn to be better, doll?”
She sits straighter in her chair, her confidence growing with his insults. “I’m not here for a lesson. Just your money.”
“There are easier ways for you to earn it.”
I shoot up from my chair so fast it falls. I charge for him.
Emma stands before I get there, wedging herself between us. “I can take care of this, Aiden. Have faith in me.”
“This isn’t about faith. It’s about respect.”
She places her hands on my chest, her voice quiet and firm. “Then respect me, because I want to walk away from this table on my own terms, not yours.”
“Relax, Aiden. He’s all talk. Sit,” Lou says. “Someone get Aiden a chair.” He pats me on the back. “We save the drama for the river, friend.”
I back away, but not before making my message clear. Straightening to my full height, I glare at Joker. “Listen up, asshole. Do not talk to her again. Do you understand me?”
Joker holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, man,” he says. He starts gathering up his chips, his posture shaky. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I pound my fist on the table making all the chips bounce. “No, you fucking leave them and finish the hand, but I swear if you say anything else to this girl except call, raise, or fold, I’m gonna show you I don’t bluff. Understand?”
He nods, almost missing the chair when he sits. I hope I made him piss his pants. I want to permanently shut his mouth, but Emma wants to beat him a different way. I won’t take that away from her. I sit with my arms folded and my heart pumping. I count the number of tiles on the ceiling until I can focus once more.
The game resumes. She does a call raise. I have no idea what she’s thinking as she tugs on her watch. Well, there goes a grand. I only hope she isn’t too hard on herself or mad at me for forcing her into this. She tried, and that’s more than most people would do.
There are two aces on the community cards. I’m pretty sure from the way he bets, Joker has the third. Everyone else folds except for Lou, Nan, Joker, and of course, my guppy. It’s time for the showdown. Lou is two suited. Nan has shit. Joker’s got a full house, but with a ten high. No ace. What? Where’s the other fucking ace? Someone has to have the nuts.
Emma lays it down. Holy shit, the girl’s got the nuts. The best possible hand.
Fucking brilliant.
She turns to Joker. Even her condescending tone is too sweet to be a true burn. “See, I win because even though we both have full houses, mine is an ace high, but yours is a ten. Aces are higher than tens.”
She gathers up all her chips.
“You’re not even going to let me win my money back?” Joker asks.
Emma shakes her head. “First rule of poker…always leave the table hot.”
Lou cracks up, slapping his knee. “In that case, Nan should have left twenty years ago.”
“And you should never have been here in the first place, Lou,” Nan shoves right back at him.
We share a quick laugh, but this is not the kind of place you wallow. They don’t take your picture and offer to comp your room here. I place my hand on Emma’s back, leading her to the cashier.
Once we’re outside, she offers me the happiest smile. I can’t help myself. I lift her up and spin her around. “Girl, you got some balls.”
“Holy shit, Aiden. Did that really happen?”
“I got a stack of cash that says it did.” I hand it over to her.
She pushes it back to me. “You keep it. It’s your money.”
“At least take your winnings.”
She shakes her head. “Use it for the trip. I’ve been struggling with everything you’re paying for. This will make me feel better.”
I consider another argument, but the look on her face tells me it will be useless. I shove the money back into my wallet. “Okay, then. We’re gonna spend it all and stay at some nice places.”
“Sounds good to me.”
A thought occurs to me. “Hey, were you bluffing the whole time?” I peer closely at her. “Were you hustling up there?”
In the bright Vegas lights, I can see the faintest pink blush across her chest. That tell is just for me.
“Actually, I lost the first few hands because of dumb mistakes. They saw those and used them against me. That last hand was part luck and part strategy—turning around my own tells.”
“Whatever it was, I’m glad I got to see it.”
“This was fun. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”
“For me, too, Cooper.”
We walk back to the hotel. As I drop her off at the door, there’s an awkward moment that feels like the end of a date. I want to kiss her. Hell, I want her to invite me in. We both stare at each other. Her lips still have gloss on them…I think it’s cherry or maybe strawberry. They are pretty lips—pouty, soft, and parted.
“I should call Kenneth and tell him,” she says. “He’s never going to believe this.” It feels like someone just hosed me with freezing cold water.
“Kent’s a douchebag.”
“Kenneth…two syllables.” She emphasizes them both for my benefit. “And what did you say?”
“You heard me. He’s not there for you when you need him. For every three texts you send him, he sends one.”
Her eyes narrow. “Nice of you to keep track, especially since you can’t even remember his name.”
“Question is why aren’t you keeping track? Did you tell him about me? About this…trip?”
“Of course I did.”
“Then he’s an even bigger fool than I thought, letting you go with me.”
“He trusts me.”
I move closer to her. “He should not trust me.”
“Can you stop being so mean?”
“Mean? I’m in awe of you, Emma. But what I cannot understand is how a girl who is this smart can act so fucking dumb. Why don’t you see what I do? You don’t go all-in on a losing hand.”
She shoves me. “Go away, Aiden. You’re being a jerk. I had the best time tonight, and you’re ruining it.”
She opens her door and slams it in my face before I can even get a grip on what I’ve done.
I lean my head against the door, wanting to call out to her, to explain myself, even though I don’t understand what I’m trying to say, either.
But I don’t, because playing with chips you can’t afford is a rookie mistake.