He winked at her and Annie turned back to staring at her hands. For once, she wished she was one of the players who hid behind sunglasses and hats. Then maybe her vulnerabilities wouldn’t show. Instead, she was on full display with her low-cut blouse and short skirt. She’d considered wearing jeans and a T-shirt today but felt the sudden change would alert the other players, and Jerry, to the fact that she was not at the top of her game this morning.
The Barracuda never showed weakness.
Annie closed her eyes to take a deep breath and center herself before the tournament started. When she did, Nate’s face, pained with her betrayal, appeared in her mind just as it had last night every time she’d tried to sleep. Her eyes had popped open to avoid the disappointed expression of the man she loved, only to find the same look on his face across the room.
Nate was watching everything from a far corner. Not her, per se, but overseeing the tournament. She’d expected he would watch from the security booth, but Jerry had been right. The bad guys were caught, the contract was secured and now the focus was on managing the VIPs and finishing up a successful tournament. What did they know?
His dark eyes ran across the room, stopping on her for just a fraction of a second. When their gazes met, there was a moment, an instant of connection. In that second, Annie saw the pain and confusion he was hiding behind his businessman facade. Then it was gone. He turned away to talk to one of his employees and Annie was once again alone in a room full of people.
The tournament started a few minutes later. The man seated to her far right was there to help her drive up the pots and win hands. Eddie had gone over all the signals with her. She didn’t know his name, but she recognized him. Like her, he’d been specially “selected” to reach the final table without drawing suspicion. He smiled at her briefly before game play began. That would be the only recognition she’d get. The room was absolutely crawling with ESPN cameras. They had to be very careful.
Being stealthy was a whole new level of stress Annie wasn’t used to when she was playing. She had to make subtle signals to the dealer and the other player so they knew what to do, all the while also focusing on winning.
The first few hours went well and without much help from the others. Two players were eliminated. She was so close to achieving her goal.
Then she spied Jerry and Nate talking to one another. Their discussion paused for a moment and both turned to watch her. Both gazes—that of the man she’d pushed away and the man who’d forced her to do it—were boring into her. The sensation was unnerving. It was as though her skin had been peeled back and she was thoroughly exposed. As though if he looked hard enough, Nate would see her for the poker cheat she’d always despised.
“Ms. Baracas?”
Annie’s focus snapped back to the dealer. She wasn’t paying attention at all. Making a quick assessment of what she’d missed, she tossed a few chips out and tried to regain her grip on the game. It didn’t work. Despite the fidgeting and jewelry twirling, she lost a big hand. Then another.
It wasn’t even lunchtime, but Annie could feel the tournament slipping away. It didn’t matter what cards she was given or what else was going on at the table. She started losing. Not on purpose. She knew Jerry wouldn’t stand for that and neither would her pride. And yet she watched her stack of chips dwindle away.
The remaining players could smell the blood in the water. She was short stacked and outnumbered. She folded her current hand to give herself time to think while the others played.
Annie was two big hands from being out of the tournament. Yes, she could still manage a dramatic comeback, but the odds were poor, even with help. The others would team up on her and drive her out of the game.
Easing back in her chair, Annie sighed. She was just prolonging her own demise and she knew it. So did Jerry.
She turned and caught his heated gaze from the left side of the table. He was alone, fuming and red faced as he watched. Apparently she was supposed to be doing better. Apparently she was going to be his big jackpot and meal ticket.
To hell with Jerry. To hell with him and this game, if dealing with the devil was her price for playing. He could hang his hopes on the other guy. It looked as though he would outplay her at this rate.
Annie scooted back up to the table with newfound enthusiasm. She was certain Jerry thought she’d been properly chastised for her performance and was ready to pick up her game. Hardly.
She took her cards. For a woman supposedly cheating, she had absolutely nothing. Not even a pair of threes or a face card. Running her fingers down the stack of her chips, she counted and raised, betting conservatively, as she would if she had a solid hand. She signaled to her partner that she had an excellent hand. He tossed in his chips while another folded. The pot grew, the flop went down. Annie still had nothing. She could see her friend and fellow player Eli out of the corner of her eye. He kept jiggling his sunglasses. That was his tell when he had good cards. Normally, she’d sit this hand out, especially with the crap she’d been dealt. Instead, she bet again. If this was the last hand of poker she ever played, she was going down in a blaze of glory.