former Congressman, had gambled with his career and lost, which gained him a shock of prematurely white hair. Now he gambled for a living.
They were her uncles? No way.
“They’re your uncles,” he repeated. “Really. Everybody?”
“Yes,” Hope said, her pupils now filling the normal amount of space in her violet iris. “Everybody.”
“Listen, Tanner,” Marty said, impatiently. “We got to get going here. Call me later. You got my cell.”
“You want me to join you?” Tanner asked, looking at Hope, wanting to stay with her. “You could use another player at the table.”
“Another time,” Marty said.
“Okay. Nice to meet you, Hope.” He heard the blonde sniff as he walked over to a table that was getting a little action. He’d call Marty. And he was definitely calling Hope.
Chapter 3
“Let’s play,” Marty told the dealer. He turned to Hope. “Tanner’s all right, Hope. But he’s a player.”
“I can see that.” Hope glanced over to the table where Tanner was taking a seat. He pulled out a chair and dropped into it, all easy animal grace. He had an untamed look about him, with shaggy dark hair worn a little long, and his big body compact with muscle. His hands had been marked with many small scars and nicks. He didn’t stay indoors all the time, and he used his hands for something other than playing cards.
She watched him ante up at the four hundred dollar table before she turned away. In the Hold’em game Tanner had just joined, four hundred dollars was the minimum bet. In the second round of betting, bets doubled. Eight hundred dollars. Just thinking about it made her feel dizzy. She didn’t see how that kind of game could be fun, with so much money riding on each hand.
“I don’t mean he plays cards,” Marty said. “I mean he plays women.”
“Oh.” Hope picked up the two cards the dealer had spun her way, looked at them, and smiled. She turned back to Marty. “Don’t worry about me. I don’t date card players.”
Isaiah, sitting to the left of the dealer, had been watching them. Now he glanced at his cards and tossed them back, folding his hand.
Pete Wisniewski was next. “Fold,” he said.
“He’s never serious,” Marty said.
“Pete?” Hope asked.
“Tanner,” Marty said. “Who we’re talking about. He’s not serious about the women he dates. And you’re a family type of gal. Always were.”
Sharp Eddie tossed his cards in. “Bing, bing, bing,” he said to Hope. “Marty’s right there.”
“Are you taking over Derek’s job now? I’m thirty-two years old, and I don’t date card players,” Hope said. “Thanks for the warning, though.”
Weary tossed his cards in.
“Just so you know,” Marty said, flipping his cards in.
“You’re all folding?” Hope said. “You must have some cards. That’s what you guys do—you bet. You raise. What’s going on here?” It was her turn and she tossed a chip into the pot, the highest allowable bet, three dollars.
“If circumstances were otherwise, I wouldn’t be at all adverse to investigating my potential positive outcome,” Jim Thickpenny said, tossing in his cards. “But in this case, discretion has overcome valor.”
“Jeez, we didn’t even get to the flop, and I had great cards, too,” she said, looking at the tiny pot that the dealer pushed her way.
Marty grinned. “Pair of aces?”
Hope turned to him, her eyes widening. “How did you know?”
“Thought so,” Isaiah said.
Hope jerked her head his way, feeling a sudden rush. These guys were among the best players in the world, and they’d all spotted her first mistake right away. Somehow she’d given away her hand. Even though she’d played badly, the tingle that she’d felt when she used to play cards with Derek so long ago was back. She was getting her game back.
She felt thrilled. Terrified.
“What did I do?” she asked.
“You smiled,” Sharp Eddie said. “When you picked up your cards.”
Hope closed her eyes. The most basic tell in the world. The giveaway that anyone—the rankest beginner—would make and understand.
“That’s stopping right now,” she said. “Thanks.”
Lesson one remembered and relearned.
If she’d played her hand better, they would have stuck in a little longer—made a few bets and fattened the pot—so she’d have earned more when she won. The first rule of card players probably was that winning was good, but winning big was better. And you didn’t even always need the best cards to win. You needed the most confidence. The most courage. To bluff when the chips were down. And you needed to pay attention, figure out what the other players had, and learn