High Stakes Read Online Free Page B

a forty-something man, is definitely hostile.
    “I’m Jackie, Frank Rizzuto’s brother. And this is Adriana. She’s an expert poker player.”
    Ha-ha. No, I’m not.
    Their angry faces dissolve into amusement. This girl’s a poker player? It’s their disbelieving faces that make me step forward.
    “Yeah, I am. And I can deal for you. It’s no problem.”
    They smile at me. Fucking jerks.
    “All right, sweetheart,” he says in a complacent tone. “Why don’t you join the rest of the women in the other room?”
    The dismissal makes me so angry that I slide into the empty dealer seat and pick up the deck of cards. I got into Columbia, for fuck’s sake.
    Don’t you dare talk down to me .
    I shuffle them a million different ways; all the ways dealers do at casinos. They approach the table angrily, almost as if they want to pull me off the chair, but I give them a small, polite smile.
    “Believe me, I can do this.”
    Even I’m surprised at the confidence pouring from my voice. If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s this. I’m more than capable. I’ve done this a hundred thousand times.
    The man who snapped at me crumbles. “What the fuck, why not?”
    “Cesare will be pissed.”
    “So? What else do we do? We’ll watch the girl for a bit and if she does well, who gives a fuck?”
    The forty-year old man looks at me with his eyebrows raised. He strikes me as a man who goes with the flow. Thin-rimmed spectacles sit on his long nose. “You know how to play Blackjack?”
    I smile at him. Stupid question.
    “All right. My name is Paulie. Just shout if you need anything.”
    In the background, I see Jackie watching me with a slight worried look on his face. There’s no time to think about it, because men are filtering into the room now that everything’s ready. Their eyes zero in on me with raised eyebrows, and suddenly there’s a crowd around my table. They want to sit at my table.
    My hands shake a little bit, so I keep shuffling. Finally, the seats are organized.
    “How you doin’?”
    “Good, thank you.” I look up at the man addressing me, another one in his fifties. “How are you?”
    “Can’t complain.”
    His admiring gaze makes my face hot. None of them seem perturbed that I’m the only female dealer. In fact, the fight over seats at my table suggests otherwise. The game begins and I deal out the cards smoothly, entertaining myself by counting the cards while they fly out of my hands. The first game ends with a win for the house.
    I can feel Paulie breathing down my neck as he makes sure I’m not screwing up the game, but he relaxes as game after game goes without incident. The man who smiled at me wins, and he tosses me a chip. Stunned I grab it. A tip? I glance at Paulie, and he nods.
    The guys start to loosen up. Cigar smoke furls around the table, choking the air. Half of the crowd from the other room filters in to watch. There are explosions of laughter at other tables, groans, but all of it disappears as I focus on the game.
    “YES! Yes, thank you! Here you go, honey.”
    Another few chips fly my way. “Thank you, sir.”
    The players seem to be from a mixed crowd—ranging from rich businessmen to married, middle-class men who look like they’re on the lam from their wives. The ones surveying the game are a different sort completely. Dark-haired. Olive skinned. Something nags at the back of my head, but I don’t want to confront it yet. My heart thumps wildly in my chest.
    This is dangerous. I don’t know why, but it is.
    There’s a slight commotion in the other room. I hear voices lift up in greeting and Paulie tenses next to me. He’s gone in a flash.
    “Vincent, there was a slight problem.”
    I don’t look up, because I’m still focused on the game. It’s none of my business, anyway.
    “Who the fuck is she?”
    The voice is young and angry, with a heavy Brooklyn accent. It cuts through the calm energy in my table like a knife and the man in front of me flinches. I