I needed anything, so…” Henry keeps scrolling through his screen. “Otherwise Emma can get it sorted. She called today and we talked for a while.”
“That’s nice,” I say. “Good to see you all getting along.”
Henry’s brows descend. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, Alice.”
“Yeah, Alice.” Beck massages the back of my neck. He has such strong talented fingers. “I’m still your favorite sibling though, right, Henry?”
“You all pretty much suck equally as far as I can see. Though Alice gets respect for getting one up on Grandma.”
“I think there’s a life lesson in that,” says Beck. “It’s possible to piss off your family and still do some good in the world. You could really take a page out of her book.”
I shake my head. “Okay. Enough of this. What do you feel like doing tonight?”
“We could watch another movie?” suggests Henry. “There’s one I’ve been meaning to see about a killer clown who lives in—”
“Oh hell no.”
The boy laughs his ass off. “You’re such a girl, Alice.”
I flip him the bird.
“Fine, fine,” says Henry. “Why don’t we hit a couple of clubs?”
“You’re too young to go nightclubbing.” Beck shakes his head. “Try again.”
“Whatever. We’ll play cards. A couple of rounds of poker. How does that sound?”
“Okay,” I say.
“Beloved.” Beck winces. “I have a bad feeling you’re going to regret that.”
“Why do you never tell me until after I’ve agreed?” I ever so slightly yell.
Henry smiles like a devil child.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“He took me for a hundred dollars.”
“Of course he did,” says Matías, sipping a single malt. “It’s Henry. You’re just lucky Beck insisted on a pot limit or things could have got ugly.”
“I mean, that’s almost a quarter of my bank balance. My rent and utilities are paid up for another couple of weeks. But after that…”
The secret bar is called The Downstairs Bar and is duly located down a flight of steps and behind an unmarked door in the basement of a building a couple of blocks away from the Heritage. We’re in the corner of the VIP lounge, behind velvet ropes in a deep and wide black leather horseshoe-shaped booth. Even at nine p.m., the place is filling up fast. It’s all very cool and vintage. A lot like the Heritage itself, actually. Only with the latest music playing loud over the sound system and much more mood lighting.
“It’s not that I won’t miss him, because I will,” I specify. “Henry is strangely sweet and endearing and yet a handful.”
“Why didn’t you warn her?” asks Ethan, who only just arrived. “You never play poker against that kid.”
“Henry was having fun and it was his last night before going back to school. I couldn’t bring myself to break his black little heart.” Beck pushes a margarita into my hand. “Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”
“Thank you.” I down a mouthful. Ah, tequila.
“I did advise you to throw in some of those hands.”
I groan. “But I really thought I had a chance of winning.”
“That’s what Henry wanted you to think.” Matías nods somberly. “He won a ball signed by Pelé off me and he doesn’t even like soccer. The kid is pure evil. Can’t be trusted.”
Beck shrugs. “He’s an Elliot. We’re trained from infancy to take no prisoners. What can you do?”
“True.”
“Don’t worry, beloved,” says Beck. “I’ll have some money put into your account tomorrow. I don’t mind that you can’t play poker to save yourself and thought you stood a chance of beating my demon brother with a pair of twos.”
At this, Matías snorts into his expensive liquor.
“No, I will not accept your money. Though thank you for the thought,” I say, with a benevolent smile. “Even though it is partly your fault I lost the money because you should never have let me agree to play cards with him in the first place.”
“You’re right.”
“No, she’s not,” says Ethan. “That makes absolutely no sense.”
Beck shushes him.
“This is just how relationships work.” Matías sighs. “You have to be man enough to lie, say you’re wrong, and let them kick you in the balls whenever the situation calls for it. Which is anytime there’s even the merest hint of a disagreement or they’re having a bad day.”
“I’d just like to point out that I have yet to assault anyone’s nuts,” I protest.
Matías holds up a finger. “Being a heterosexual female, the emphasis here needs to be on the word yet. You have yet to assault anyone’s nuts.”