Page 31 of Her Intense Protector

He shook the other two men’s hands as well as he tried to swallow down his worry. This was not good. Not good at all.

10

Her dress was hot. Really hot. Sweat was dripping down her back; thank God it was lined. Carl kept looking between her and Phil as he sat back down at his stool.

You fooled him, so calm down Samantha.

She took a deep breath and prayed that her double coating of deodorant would work. After everyone was settled back in their seats and the waitress had all brought them another round of drinks, the game-runner stepped forward and patted Jerry’s shoulder.

“Welcome back from the break. We have six players remaining in the tournament with Mr. Meade and Miss Brooks in the lead. We’re going to increase the blinds to five-hundred and one-thousand. It’s time to step things up, people, if you want a shot at winning. Good luck, players, let’s shuffle up and deal.”

The man who had been consistently losing and had the shortest stack pushed away from the table and stood up. “This isn’t fair, I signed up for a cash game. I should have been allowed to leave an hour ago. This is crooked as hell. I’m calling the police!”

“About an illegal game that you agreed to play? I don’t think so,” the small man said with a shark’s smile. “Now sit down.”

“I’m not going to sit down,” he yelled. “I want my fucking money.”

Carl got up off his stool and another man materialized beside him. It was Murray. Carl unbuttoned his suitcoat again so that his big black gun could be clearly seen.

Dang, my mace isn’t going to work against that.

“Sit down,” Carl snarled.

The man went pale and he sat down.

“Does anyone else have any questions about the rules?” the small man asked.

If I win, I’m not going to be allowed to leave with my money. But if I lose, then everything I’ve done tonight was for nothing.

He looked around the table.

Everybody, including Sam, shook their heads.

“Good. Shuffle up and deal, Jerry.”

Samantha felt sweat beading at her hairline. She had to think of something.

Granddad, help me! You’re the one who taught me poker, help me figure a way to help Phil’s wife and get out of this alive.

Jerry dealt out the hand and she looked down at her cards—an eight of hearts and a four of clubs. Sam hated to fold without seeing the flop, but she also hated throwing away five-hundred chips. She called the big blind and watched as the next player raised two-thousand more.

Darn.

Now she was stuck calling another two-thousand for the dubious pleasure of seeing the flop when she had a crap hand. The one thing she did know was that dilly-dallying over a decision would be a dead giveaway to the other players that her cards were bad, so she made her decision quickly. She called and hoped for the dealer to show an eight or a four, or maybe both.

The dealer put out the flop. An eight of clubs, six of diamonds, and five of hearts. Okay, nobody should be looking for a flush, but there was the possibility some lucky guy had a pair in his hand higher than her eights. On the positive side, if a seven popped up, she had a straight. Well, this is why they called it gambling.

Sam was the first to act so she decided to bet three-thousand, wanting to flush out the people who weren’t up to snuff. Hopefully, this would eliminate anyone with just high cards.

Come on Mr. Antsy, what are you going to do?

She knew he was a bluffer, but since he wasn’t the one who had bet to begin with, she had a feeling he didn’t have a good hand in the first place and was depending on the flop to make his hand. She knew how he felt. But the high card on the flop was an eight, and she had that. She waited for his turn and watched as he played with his chips.

“Mr. Madison,” the dealer prompted the man before Mr. Antsy.

The man raised; he put out eight-thousand chips. Everyone, including Mr. Antsy, folded.

Dang.