CHAPTER FIVE
With six players left, Vienna felt the tension climb even higher at the table, although with the exception of Park and herself, the four other players were all professional gamblers. Art, Jameson and Leo had all won world championships multiple times. Theodore had placed at the final table in championships multiple times but had never made it beyond the third-place slot. She knew that had to be frustrating for him, but he was always gracious, always a gentleman.
They talked even more, bragging a little, teasing a bit, commenting on Park’s good looks and the way he’d drawn such a female crowd. Vienna couldn’t help but look at the women congregating around the barrier separating the final table from the onlookers. Park definitely had a fanatical following. The women jumped up and down, calling his name and waving items for him to sign.
Park looked resigned, giving the other players a faint shrug and his famous grin. “They’re here to bring me luck.”
“They make enough noise that you can’t hear yourself think,” Leo groused.
Art laughed. “You’re just jealous because on your best day, you don’t have that many women looking for the key to your room.”
“Depends on whether I win or not,” Leo said.
“Well,” Art conceded, “there’s that.”
They all laughed, although Vienna didn’t think the comment was that funny because she was certain it was the truth. Leo—and the others—most likely did have women vying for a chance to go to their room with them if they won.
Once the laughter faded, Leo turned the spotlight on Vienna. “I heard about what happened to you last night, Vienna. I’m so sorry. I should have escorted you up to your room, or had security take you up.”
All at once, she had the attention of every man at the table. It felt as if they were all staring at the black-and-blue bump on the side of her forehead that her hair wasn’t quite hiding. It was difficult to resist covering it with her palm.
“No one was to blame, Leo. Who knew Charles would get drunk and decide to assault me? My neighbor in the suite beside mine, a sweet older man, came to my rescue with his cane and whacked Charles over the head before he could punch me.”
“Charles never could hold his liquor,” Jameson commented under his breath, his eyes on the raised bruise on her forehead.
Art sent her a quick grin. “He did the same thing to me at a no-limit tournament at the Rio. He placed a bet he shouldn’t have and he lost. He’s really mad at himself, but then he drinks and wants to fight. He came at me swinging, but there were security guards everywhere, and they stopped him and took him to his suite. It was that or throw him out.”
“I think he went to jail last night,” Vienna said. “He actually put his hands on me. I have some bruising on my stomach where he pretended he was a linebacker and drove his shoulder into me to throw me to the ground. The cops took pictures of the bruising and of the lump on my forehead.” She flashed a small smile. “I don’t think the bump is going to bring me the same luck Park’s frenzied fans are going to bring him.”
Her attempt at humor failed because the men exchanged long looks of what had to be anger. It was Art that voiced their concern. “You have a large bruise on your stomach? He hit you that hard?”
Vienna wished she hadn’t been so chatty. “It’s nothing. Really. We’re here to play cards, not talk about me. Did you all get a chance to meet Mr. Wallin last night?”
Leo, ever the gentleman, nodded. “Yes, he came in and made the rounds. I’ve met him several times. He’s always gracious. There was far more security than there’s ever been, most likely because of what happened to you.”
“The food was amazing,” Park said. “I wanted to talk to him about a couple of proposals I had for the hotel, but I didn’t get more than a few minutes with him.”
The dealer sat down and the mood of the crowd became electric. Vienna felt the excitement igniting through her veins. The blood rushed in a quick wash of heat and then settled so she felt the familiar calm sweep through her. At once she was aware of everyone seated around the table. The way they moved, their hands, their eyes, the set of their mouths. The way the dealer flicked her fingers as she shuffled the cards. Everything registered in her brain, cataloging down to the tiniest detail.
The cards slid to the players facedown in front of them. Art was the man to start off once the players had made the pot right. He lifted his cards with two fingers to look, his face expressionless. She’d noticed he tended to run the edge of his thumb along the cards when he intended to stay in, which he did as he dropped them to the surface of the table. He had a pair of aces. He made his bet and sat back to see what would happen.
Leo looked at his cards and folded. His move was very, very subtle. She had nearly missed it, but if he was bluffing, he slightly cocked his head to the right. Theodore took a look at his cards, dropped them down, tapped a finger on them as he always did and matched the bet. She was next. She had a king and queen of spades. She stayed. Park stayed in. Jameson folded and sat back, crossing his arms, a small enigmatic smile on his face. In the end, it came down to Art and her, as they challenged one another and the others folded.
The flop came, a queen of hearts, jack of diamonds, deuce of hearts. Art bet out, Vienna called. Turn was an eight of diamonds. Art checked, knowing his one pair, even if it was higher than the queen, was very beatable. He needed to control the pot to avoid any disasters. Vienna checked as well. The river was the king of hearts, giving Vienna the winner with two pair, kings and queens. Art bet small, trying to get the showdown for cheap. Vienna raised his bet, but knew she couldn’t raise too much. Art was too smart to pay off a big raise.
The others leaned forward, just as eager as Art. None of them could read her any better than Art could. He turned over his pair of aces.
She turned over the two hidden cards. The queen of spades and king of spades. Art laughed. “That is a pretty sight. Queen of hearts on the flop. The king of hearts on the river. The river seems to be your lucky card, Vienna.”
“I’ll admit, I was sweating it a bit when you looked so confident, Art.”
“There was no sweating that I could detect,” Art said. He didn’t look in the least deterred by the chips stacking up in front of Vienna.
Over the next couple of hours, she had to fold on several hands. The cards just weren’t coming her way. That happened sometimes, and one had to be patient and not try to force something just to play. Park’s cards seemed to be far worse, and he always played past the flop even though he should have gotten out immediately.
The third hour in, there was a fierce battle that started out between all the players with the exception of Vienna, who had been dealt a three and four. She folded to watch the others as each thought they were given potentially winning cards. The bets were enormous. Whoever won this round would add to their chips considerably.
Art was the first to bow out after the flop. Park waited for the turn and then folded. That left Leo, Jameson and Theodore. Leo raised and Jameson folded. The bet went to Theodore. He stayed in for the river. The card did him no good that anyone could see. Still, he stayed. Leo’s bet was considerable. He had the chip advantage. Theodore went all in. Leo called.
Theodore had four of a kind. Four fives. Vienna closed her eyes. This was going to be painful. Who would have ever imagined? Leo turned over his cards. He had a straight flush. Low cards. All diamonds. Five through nine. Theodore sat very still for a minute and then slowly shook his head. Placing both hands on the table, he pushed himself up and extended one hand to Leo.
Leo shook his hand. “Great play,” he murmured.
Theodore shrugged. “That’s the beauty. You never know what lady luck is going to do.” He walked away.
It had been a great hand. Any one of them would have gone broke betting on four of a kind. Although, had Theodore studied the cards in front of him, he might have considered the odds. Cards were mathematical. There was always that percentage.
She sighed. “That one really hurt.”
“Now the compassion is coming out,” Art said, half-teasing. “We have a chance to annihilate her.”
“In your wildest dreams,” she said.
Three hours later, she’d won a few smaller hands, but no one had anything to shout about. Park’s playing seemed erratic to her, as if he were showing off for the crowd of women more than he was keeping his head in the game. They kept calling out to him to take his shirt off. If he stood up to stretch, they would yell for him to dance for them or to sign autographs. To take pictures with them. He didn’t seem to be able to resist the white-hot glare of the spotlight.
The others around the table were amused by his rather vain posing around the spectators. Vienna didn’t point out to them that he had won a couple of large hands. He might stay in longer than he should, but he had stayed in, believing the cards he was holding were enough to win. He thought he was “playing” everyone. Unfortunately, she was fairly certain he was being too clever for his own good.
She finally managed to score two cards in the pocket worth staying in, a king and ace of spades. Rubbing the pad of her thumb over the little heart on her wrist once, she blinked several times to focus on the cards as each of the others made their bets.