Bluffing the Devil Read online

  Something about me was just off lately. Calling ridiculous raises with a pair or even less, not realizing when someone obviously has me crushed the whole way and were check-raising me to death, but what do I do about it? Nothing! I just make the call with the weakest hand ever and embarrass myself or worse, lose more money. I needed to get my head back in the game, but this little ‘adventure’ and these dreams were not helping me one bit!

  “You know what you need?” Rhea chimed in.

  Oh yeah, she is here, too? I forgot even who is with me. Wow. See? I cannot even focus on lifelong friends, and I keep forgetting what I am doing. I need to focus… wait, what was she saying? Geez…. You would think I would not be allowed to forget Rhea. She has always been the brazen, little life of our merry band of beatniks. She was always a different color streak in her chestnut hair that accentuated any number of her rainbow-colored, artistically-balanced outfits. Her matching chestnut eyes, like milk chocolate always made her seem like a sweet, innocent little fairy… until she opened her mouth. Usually so soothing to me and my second-in-command supporter, now was pushing me to want to use profanity to get my point across.

  I had a feeling her solution was going to be irksome, but still I somehow asked, “No babe, what do I need?”

  “Sex.”

  See? I hate being right sometimes.

  “Oh, well that’s just the answer for everything, isn’t it??” I asked, feeling more irritated by the millisecond. They knew why I had given up on relationships and men and still that’s where they were always focused. Nearly a year ago, my fiancé was killed in a car accident on his way home from work. Insert horrible sob story Lifetime move music a box of Kleenex and some sympathy hugs on cue. Gag. It was a horrible personal tragedy, and I hadn't felt the effects of my decision to swear off the opposite sex until recently. Three weeks from today would have been our wedding. Why rub salt in my wounds now? Can't they see that I still needed to heal and have time to focus on me for a change? Maybe I should offer them some lemon juice and razor blades so they could torture me some more. Bet they would enjoy that. Bitches. I know I am tough, and come off as if things don't matter to me a lot, but I am a person, too. I have feelings and they are stuck in a limbo, of sorts. I'm happy with what I am doing right now, focusing on me for a change, but I never had the chance to say my peace and was definitely not healed. Mourning changes people. I am the prime example.

  “I mean, stop being such a prude and worrying about what everyone else thinks." Victoria interjected, "You are a gorgeous woman in her mid-twenties. It’s been a long time, hun. Don’t be so nervous around men. It's okay to do something for you. Enjoy the company of a man and live a little with your girlfriends in the meantime. Guys do it all the time and don’t get called names, so why do you care what someone says?

  "You aren’t being a slut to get some satisfaction in your life, you're not healing by barricading yourself inside of your mind or on a poker table, and you're certainly not living life like you should, I mean come on!! We will all support you in whoever you see or do next. We all loved Jamison, but he would never have wanted you to live like this, all alone in your shell and totally focused on your career, and forgetting about everything else you love. Do something for yourself for once. I will beg you, if I have to.” Victoria finished off her tirade as the others nodded in agreement.

  Well! If she was the keeper of my panties they could record my escapades and sell that on pay-per-view for sure. Thank goodness I have a few morals left.

  “Have you guys been discussing me and my personal life again?” I asked as they nodded simultaneously.

  How embarrassing! They were all in agreement? It was that obvious? I never like to take things in my own hands, so to speak, but maybe I needed to start doing something if my friends could sense my frustration. It’d be funny if it weren’t true.

  "I am not nervous around men, nor am I worried what someone will call me or think of me, I am just not interested in any attachments right now. I am not ready for anything like that also. What's so wrong with focusing on me for a change? Do I look like a walking puzzle that's missing a piece and you just have to fix it? Or do you just feel I would be a better person with someone attached to my side?"

  Deep breaths, Alexia. They love you, they just don't understand what you are going through.

  "I know what I am doing." I continued, on the verge of sounding more annoyed than necessary, "I don't want a relationship, or someone to distract me right now. You guys know the poker world is usually led by men and I really have found my niche in the game. I know I can do this. That is more important to me than some guy that's just going to try to tell me what to do, keep me at home doing his bidding, and take the focus off of what I want in life. That's not cool, right, or fair. To top it all off, my heart is still healing and I just don't want to have to share my space or time with someone, until I know that I am not a walking wrecking ball."

  I knew that Jamison's death was not my fault. I really did know that, but after so many bad things happen around me and to those that I loved, it was nearly impossible not to feel guilty in some way. Things would randomly break or become useless once I used them. My mom once bought me a stereo for my room. I was so excited to get it and by the next day it stopped working. She said it was because I was listening to such horrible music that it didn’t want to work anymore, and went to stereo heaven. If that were the only incident, I might be able to laugh it off as coincidence, but after a few vehicle accidents, a trail of things behind me that would appear to be the worst luck in history, and even more random acts of strangeness, I had managed to convince myself that it was, officially, that I am just the proverbial black cat. Bad luck, and to be avoided at all costs.

  After I finished my mini return-fire, I merely nodded my head with satisfaction feeling slightly pleased with myself, and a bit frustrated that I just freaked out on the only people in the world that I knew loved me for me all the time, even though I'm a mess. My friends tried to look blasé about the whole thing and accept my reasoning, but the pained looks on their faces stung a bit. My words sometimes sound harsher than I intend them to. Yet another skill I have. Crushing my friends and loved ones when they are doing what they should; loving and supporting me, obviously had its pitfalls. They should receive Hazardous Materials certification pay for being around me. Rhea would never wear a HAZMAT suit, but the thought of that did make me giggle in the midst of my emotional inner-meltdown.

  Victoria was awful about keeping secrets from me. The girl had absolutely no poker face what-so-ever and her ear-to-ear grin was telling me that she was up to something terrible… either terribly clever (her usual) or just plain awful for me. But, which one? Even when I’m losing my mind, her sneaky mind was planning something, I could see it.

  “Vic, do you have something up your sleeve?" I asked slowly as I quirked up an eyebrow. "If you are trying to set me up with some random guy, or some friend of your brother's cousin of your friend or some random guy you met at Petland or whatever, I am not interested. Seriously, save me and that guy the agony of having to be put into some awkward situation only to end up the same way we are today. I am not ready,” and truth be told, my body belonged to Dream Man right now, “and even when I am ready, I would like to think I am able to find a guy on my own, and not need to be set up by the Anti-Spinster League if it’s all the same to you.”

  She looked only slightly dejected as we continued on the path to dinner and ‘good’ times but didn't say another word.

  I tried to take in the ambience and settle my mind. I listened to the Atlantic lap lazily against the shore, watched thousands of lights from the various sights frolic teasingly across the waves in a psychedelic array of beauty, and smelled the different choices of cuisine available from the Hard Rock, Melting Pot, Los Amigos, and more. Usually I was voracious and would be willing to tear into food from any of those places, but none were appetizing to me. I just wanted to close my eyes and wait for him to come to me. Just five
minutes of him, could get me through what was going to be a very long night at the tables.

  Just as I opened my mouth to accept the kindness and company of my cohort, I vaguely heard Carly make some catty commentary on how Atlantic City was always “turned on” but I never was. Pfft! If she only knew!

  A split second decision was made. “Ladies, please go on without me. I just don’t have an appetite right now, and I need rest more than anything. Go wherever you girls want, eat and drink and be merry, on me” I said as I pulled out one of my credit cards, smiled at them, and whispered a quick goodbye, before turning quickly on my heel and heading out as fast as my feet would carry me.

  I could feel their heat-seeking missile type vision burning into the back of my head as I heard their hisses and complaints, but I could not let their feelings interfere with my own. I was on a mini-mission and wasn’t going to take their disappointment, annoyance, or attitude for anything more than what it was, selfish and not my most important concern of the night.

  "Please God, let him visit my dreams. Just five minutes with my Dream Man and I won't even ask you for any favors tonight with luck or patience. I will pinky swear!" I sent up the prayer as I popped in my ear buds, cranked up my mp3 player, and jogged quickly back toward the hotel.

  Chapter 2

  The hotel lobby was immaculate as always. Everything was pristine, shiny, and amazingly finger-print free. How do they do that? Rain-X? Someone is on staff all day, every day on glass and surface patrol? I should find that out one day. The sudden curiosity in casino maintenance made me chuckle at myself. If I got much more scatterbrained, someone would call the guys with the white jackets and have me take a nice little three day vacation at some place with a mystically calming name and multi-colored "favors" to balance my mental state.

  As with any casino in the city, things were plotted out to maximize people's chances of wanting to gamble at every turn. The maze that is the casino makes people have to cross the casino floor to head towards the elevators to get to their rooms. Casinos are masterminded that way, and typically people will want to keep walking but then decide to play "just one more quarter" or "a few hands" before going up, which turns into $50 or 100 hands quickly. Smart business choice, casino-plotters. I salute your thought process, and greed!

  The machines, dealers, players, and elegant beauty of the room was a comforting sight even though I had been to Atlantic City often for various tournaments, it was always like I was seeing it for the first time. Any decent poker player worth their salt had to play at least a few times a week, to keep their game in check. While I did tend to play a lot of online poker while at home, Atlantic City was my chosen stomping ground for live games, as it was the closest casino-town to my dreary Red Bank, New Jersey dwelling. I would come at least once a month to practice against fish that came to the city to get away for a weekend, and throw away their paychecks. Fools. Fake poker pros with their adorable attempts at bluffing the Queen. Why didn't they ever learn that if I was playing the hand, I was going to win it? Okay, that might not be completely accurate at this particular moment in time, but I am getting there! I have the skill and confidence, and I am learning more every day. Also, just because I am a woman, they continued to underestimate me. All of that would change this year. I had a plan!

  My musings about the beauty before me, and idiots with their pathetic attempts at righteousness were suddenly stopped short by an almost imperceptible atmosphere change. After just a few months and a little practice, I could feel him when he entered the room. Even across a crowded casino floor his essence filled the space like the dark under your bed seems to go on forever. Rey. Fantastic. As if my day wasn't off-kilter enough? Thank you, Poker Gods for the immense luck in company today. Truly, I owe you one!

  He slithered his way across the casino floor and instantly his predacious gaze locked onto me. In a spontaneous act of avoidance, I burrowed into the crowd a bit deeper and tunneled my way through the unsuspecting human-shields and headed toward the mock-safety of the elevators. Not that I am afraid of him, far from it, I just cant stand cocky bastards that think they are God's gift to the game. Especially when it's obvious that the only reason he chats me up so often, is he is trying to learn my strategy. He wants to make a place for himself as poker royalty. Not on my watch, chump, but wait, I am not prey in this situation! I am never going to be someone's doormat, or stepping stone ever again! Resolve hit me suddenly and I pivoted on my heel quickly, nearly slamming into his eye-level chest. Man, he was fast! And tall, geez. When did he get so tall? How had I never noticed that before? Ahh yes, always sitting at a poker table and only having to deal with his consuming gazes. This was a new level of freak-out.

  "Is there something I can help you with, Rey?" I said as I craned my neck to see the tower of man before me, "Or were you on a mad dash to bilk someone of their lifesavings, or maybe rob some unsuspecting college girl of her panties and possible virtue tonight?"

  "You wound me, truffle." He drawled with his gorgeous Latin accented "r".

  Seriously? What is up with everyone and their nicknames for me lately?

  "I decided at the last moment to switch to this hotel so I could be away from the action over at Caesar's and as I was registering, I couldn’t miss your glorious essence calling to me from the crowd."

  As if I was "calling" to him? Pssh. As if!

  "I just had to come speak to you and make sure you’re doing well. Are you busy? You seemed in a hurry."

  Rey could fool most people into thinking he was innocent or sweet or whatever façade he wanted to wear today, but I know poker players, and I know men. He was not fooling me one bit. He always stayed at Caesar's, which was one of the most important reasons I never did. Had he followed me? There would be no point in that. I have to stop being so paranoid.

  "I was in a hurry yes, I.. uh.. have a date." It was sort of the truth. I was planning on going to my room for a nap before the tournament, and was also praying that I would have a few moments with my Dream Guy. That always settled my nerves, and gave me a little something extra to smile about.

  A flash of something crossed Rey's face. Amazingly, I couldn't decipher if it was anger, confusion, or some other emotion. Even though I have been training to read people's faces, actions, words, and other characteristics for years now, he somehow managed to show an emotion I hadn't seen before. Weird. Well-played, sir. Game on.

  "Perhaps another time you can grace me with your fantastic company for a drink or maybe some dessert? Coffee? Wine? Tiramisu? Whatever you like." Rey said, attempting to sound nonchalant, but I could easily pick up the near-desperate tone begging for my compliance.

  "Well, while your invitation for 'dessert' sounds delicious, I'm watching my weight these days, I don't like coffee, and I'm not a drinker. I am quite busy and don't know when I would have time for you. Thank you for the offer. I'm running late and must go." I tried to race through my apology and rejection quickly and then dash off, but Rey, being the sneaky bastard he is was ready for that and tugged my elbow as I turned to leave.

  "Perhaps I can join you on your next morning run?"

  Internal panic mode activated! He knows I run in the mornings? Does he also know I take Krav Maga? I might not be a Sayeret, but I knew that class would come in handy someday. Ha! Wouldn't you know that my mom always had to be right? "You must be ready for anything, Alexia. You never know who is creeping in the shadows waiting to hurt you, kill you, or worse." She always said. I always wondered what could be worse than killing me, but I never questioned aloud to my mother. I knew better, and I was sure I didn’t want to answer.

  "Doubt you could keep up," that wasn't truly a challenge, just a further brush off, "and my workouts are my 'me time', I'm sure you understand."

  Grim faced, he seemed to concede, then muttered so low I almost missed it, "Surely I will see you this evening in Round 1?"

  "Yes, I saw table assignments earlier, and I will be on Table Six."

  "Table Five. At least the
view will be nice for me. Boa sorte, doce." ("Good luck, sweet" in Portuguese. Oh my. He’s certainly being very friendly today.).

  Though Portuguese was not my strongest language, I knew what he meant and had to remember to give my dad a high-five or a hug, for making me pay attention and care about other cultures and languages so often.

  "Good luck to you, also." I replied quickly.

  Seeing my exit window narrowing, I darted through the horde of people blocking my way into salvation. I slammed my finger on the button for my floor, and finally exhaled a relieved breath a moment later as the elevator doors were closing obliterating the black eyes that still studied my every move.

  Chapter 3

  Finally having a moment to myself and feeling strangely dirty from Rey's game of smolder-to-death, I decided a shower would do wonders for my disposition to help settle my mind and body, for my much desired nap. Of course, I was right.

  Since I was a kid, bath time had always been one of my favorite times of the day, and had yet to fail me for lifting my spirits, or at the very least helping rid myself of grime and tension.

  The steaming hot water from the dual massage heads worked wonders on my tired muscles and the grime of the day. Not even bothering to get dressed, I just patted my body dry and then wrapped my damp cascade of jet black hair in one of the ultra-thick amazing hotel towels that my favorite place always provided. I glanced at myself in the mirror to check for trip and day-damage. My face didn't look as tired as I felt, thank goodness. One of the luckiest things about me was my ability to always appear good, happy, and healthy on the outside.

  My cyan eyes were one of my favorite features about myself. They were such an unusual shade of blue and such a huge contrast to my hair, attitude, and other plain-Jane features that it made them better, in my opinion. The one thing that always shined from me.