“You just gave away four hundred bucks, Pidge!” Travis frowned.
“If this was poker night at Sig Tau, I would have kept it. I can’t rob your brothers the first time I meet them.”
“They would have kept your money!” he said.
“And I wouldn’t have lost a second of sleep over it, either,” Taylor said.
Thomas stared at me in silence from the corner of the room.
“Why do you keep starin’ at my girl, Tommy?”
“What did you say your last name was?” Thomas asked.
I shifted my weight nervously. My mind raced for something witty or sarcastic to say to deflect the question. I picked at my nails instead, silently cursing myself. I should have known better than to win all those hands. Thomas knew. I could see it in his eyes.
Travis, noticing my unease, turned to his brother and put his arm around my waist. I wasn’t sure if he was doing it in protective reaction, or he was bracing himself for what his brother might say.
Travis shifted, visibly uncomfortable with his brother’s questioning. “It’s Abernathy. What of it?”
“I can see why you didn’t put it together before tonight, Trav, but now you don’t have an excuse,” Thomas said, smug.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Travis asked.
“Are you related to Mick Abernathy by any chance?” Thomas asked.
All heads turned in my direction and I nervously raked my hair back with my fingers. “How do you know Mick?”
Travis angled his head to look into my eyes. “He’s only one of the best poker players that ever lived. Do you know him?”
I winced, knowing I had finally been cornered into telling the truth. “He’s my father.”
The entire room exploded.
“NO FUCKING WAY!”
“I KNEW IT!”
“WE JUST PLAYED MICK ABERNATHY’S DAUGHTER!”
“MICK ABERNATHY? HOLY SHIT!”
Thomas, Jim, and Travis were the only ones not shouting. “I told you guys I shouldn’t play,” I said.
“If you would have mentioned you were Mick Abernathy’s daughter, I think we would have taken you more seriously,” Thomas said.
I peered over at Travis, who stared at me in awe. “You’re Lucky Thirteen?” he asked, his eyes a bit hazy.
Trenton stood and pointed at me, his mouth opened wide. “Lucky Thirteen is in our house! No way! I don’t fucking believe it!”
“That was the nickname the papers gave me. And the story wasn’t exactly accurate,” I said, fidgeting.
“I need to get Abby home, guys,” Travis said, still staring at me.
Jim peered at me over his glasses. “Why wasn’t it accurate?”
“I didn’t take my dad’s luck. I mean, how ridiculous,” I chuckled, twisting my hair nervously around my finger.
Thomas shook his head. “No, Mick gave that interview. He said at midnight on your thirteenth birthday his luck ran dry.”