Chapter Three

Part 4

“Thanks for staying and helping me clean up,” Ian said as I stacked the chips into their box.

“Are you kidding? I’m totally indebted to you, man,” I said.

Ian laughed as he swept the coffee table by the couches free of Dorito crumbs. “Why? It’s not like I bilked the guy on your behalf. You got the good cards, and you played like a pro.”

“Thanks. And I know you didn’t cheat. But I’m just saying, if it wasn’t for you, there wouldn’t be a game. And if there wasn’t a game, I wouldn’t have been able to rub Dominic’s face in my total poker mastery,” I said—somewhat pretentiously, I guess.

I’ll admit it. I was living it up a little bit. So much of my irritation at Dominic and Marcy had been alleviated by tonight’s many wins that I had a feeling I wouldn’t even care if I saw him all over her again in the hallway. Between my humiliation of the skeev, and my great date with Winter, I was feeling like myself again.

“ ‘We’re outta here! Cash out!’ ” I imitated Dominic, adding a whiney voice. “What a tool.”

“Well, glad I could help,” Ian said, tossing a bunch of cups and napkins in the trash. “I swear I had no idea he was coming.”

“Whatever. I’m glad he did,” I said. “I was happy to take the cocky bastard down a few pegs.” I closed the chip box and snapped the latch. “In fact, it gave me a notion,” I said in a leading way.

Ian paused. “Uh-oh. Why don’t I like the sound of this?”

“What?” I replied innocently. “When have I ever come up with a bad scheme? That’s usually your thing.”

“You got me there,” Ian said, pushing a couple of chairs in toward the new table. “So what’s your idea?”

“Well, I was thinking . . . why don’t we start up a second weekly game?” I said. “A high-stakes game.”

“A high-stakes game,” he repeated, his eyebrows raised. “The most frugal of my frugal friends wants me to start up a high-stakes game.”

“Why not?” I said. “There’s a profusion of wealth in this town. Why not use it to our advantage? We invite all the most insipid rich kids to the game and then reap the rewards.”

Ian laughed and picked up the chip box to stow it in the cabinet. “You have one big night and all of a sudden you’re a poker prodigy with designs on fleecing the upper class.”

“Hey, don’t demonize me,” I said defiantly. “It was just a suggestion.”

“I know. Chill,” he said, walking over and leaning on the back of one of the chairs. “I’m not saying it’s a bad idea. I’m all for greed as much as the next guy. I just don’t want to make a rash decision. I mean, if all the guys come in here and start losing mad cash, they’re going to think I’m culpable.”

“So we won’t invite them all,” I said. “Most of them wouldn’t be able to buy in anyway.”

Ian eyed me doubtfully, and I knew what he was thinking. That I couldn’t really buy in either. I felt agitated, and my skin heated up.

“Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I’ll just use this.”

I emptied my pockets of all the cash I’d won from Dominic and his friends that night. It was definitely enough to get me into the first big game, at least. Slowly, Ian smiled.

“Come on,” I said, knowing I had him. “We’ll clean up.”

“All right,” he said finally. “I’m in.”