And I knew exactly who their target was for this round. The other female, one of the compulsive gamblers. She was nervous, her eyes darting across the five cards now shown on the table: a seven of clubs, a queen of diamonds, a five of clubs, a jack of clubs and another queen, of hearts.
My hand was weak. All I could offer was a pair of fives. I folded, clicking my teeth.
“Maybe next time.” I smirked, then leaned back in my seat.
As expected, the cucumbers started teasing each other.
“I’m thinking it’s a good night,” the guy said, then tossed a few red chips on the pile gathering in the middle of the table. “Thirty.”
“Your overconfidence could be your weakness,” the girl said, grinning, and raised him another thirty, her tongue passing over her pearly white teeth. The tight, jade-colored dress she wore was meant to arouse, and based on what I was reading from the guy, she was getting the desired results.
I shifted in my chair, slightly uncomfortable with feeling someone else’s arousal, but stayed focused nonetheless. The girl’s outfit looked expensive. They weren’t here to play for pennies.
“I’m in,” the female gambler replied, tossing her own share of chips, worth thirty thousand dollars, while the fourth player folded, shaking his head.
The cucumbers seemed to ignore the woman, and continued taunting each other, while the dealer watched, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
“Raise you another thirty,” cucumber girl said, grinning, as the guy bit the inside of his cheek and added more chips to the pile.
“You’re bluffing,” he replied. “Thirty.”
The female compulsive gambler frowned, but the energy coming from her echoed confidence. She felt like she had a good hand. A really good hand. My guess was that it had something to do with the queens. She raised them another thirty, then narrowed her eyes at her own cards.
“I’m not bluffing,” the girl said. She raised an eyebrow and pushed forty thousand dollars’ worth of chips forward. “Raise.”
The guy scoffed, scratching the back of his neck as he contemplated his choices for a couple of seconds. The female gambler, on the other hand, had quickly sunk into despair. I realized then that maybe her hand wasn’t all that good. If I wanted to confirm collusion between the cucumbers, I needed the lady to fold so I could then watch the guy fold as well, and let the girl win. It seemed like the natural way for it to play out at that point.
“Okay, now I’m pissed,” the guy said, and raised her another twenty.
The female gambler cursed under her breath and folded, nervously counting the chips she had left, while the cucumbers pretended to glower at each other. It was getting a little too dramatic for my taste. Even a non-empath could tell they were slightly over the top.
“All in,” the girl challenged the guy, and pushed the rest of her chips into the middle, prompting the others to stare at her in disbelief.
The pot was somewhere over $350,000, and it was time for the guy to shake his head in disappointment, then fold. My fingers gripped the edge of the table, my nerves anticipating the moment I’d get my proof of collusion. I knew they were hot for each other in ways no two people meeting for the first time would ever be.
He tossed the cards, facedown, feigning irritation as he gulped down his drink, then motioned for a waiter to bring him another one.
Bingo!
Once they got away with this, they were going to get more brazen. I wanted them to dig themselves into a hole as deep as possible. The bigger their winnings at the end of the night, the bigger my prize.
I straightened my back as the dealer collected the cards and shuffled them, while the girl raked the mountain of chips over to her side of the table. She stacked them quickly into groups of $20,000, between sips of her fruity drink.
Personally, I looked forward to watching that smirk get wiped off at the end of the night.
It was time to get security to pay attention. I fiddled with my onyx earring, giving the head of security a brief sideways glance. Malcolm the bouncer stood at the end of the bar, ten yards away, pretending to chat with the bartender. He noticed my signal and discreetly brought a hand over his mouth, communicating a message through the tiny mic mounted into one of his cufflinks.
Prologue