CHAPTER FOUR
Our token model made it to the final table,” Art Cable said, pulling his glasses down to the bridge of his nose with one finger to peer at her. “You do know you’re only supposed to be a gimmick, right, honey?”
Vienna flashed him her brilliant model smile, the one that showed off her straight white teeth, the dimple that came and went, and somehow seemed to highlight the emerald green of her eyes. She even batted her feathery lashes at him.
“How silly of me to keep winning and make it to the final table. Someone should have clued me in.”
Jameson Rockefeller, another well-known gambler, one whose book she’d read before coming, snickered. “I wouldn’t underestimate her, Art. She’s sitting here with us, and she’s earned those chips in front of her. Second-highest number of chips at the table.”
“I’d like to know how that happened when no one’s really heard of her,” Charles Von Garden declared, his tone implying all sorts of things. “Did your sugar daddy sponsor you? What did you have to do for the money?”
She let her gaze slide over him. “You’re the one with the sponsors, Charles. What did you have to do to get yours?” She smiled sweetly, but there was nothing at all sweet about her inquiry.
Charles gripped the table and nearly lunged to his feet. “What are you implying?”
Vienna lifted an eyebrow. “Why, nothing, Charles. I was just asking you the same question you asked me. You’re clearly a very sensitive man.”
Charles subsided, looking at the other players, all of whom were frowning at him, Art included. Art may have tried tweaking Vienna, but he didn’t like what Charles had said to her.
Vienna studied the other players. There were eight sitting at the final table, with her included. These were some of the players she’d admired. She’d watched them on television. Some had written books or put up vlogs on YouTube. Others had taught master classes on the internet. For all his sarcasm, Art Cable had been the one man to help others with his videos and classes. He did charge a fee, but it was nominal and she understood that his time was very valuable.
Benny Dobsin was a ruthless player. He could be unpredictable. She had studied him closely in every video of him she could. He had a tendency to stay in longer than he should—on purpose, she was certain—and then suddenly he’d win several large pots. He constantly fidgeted, touching his face and rubbing his fingers over his eyes. He would target certain players and play against them to try to get them out of the game. She considered him a wild card.
Leo Sheldon was the oldest player at the table, in his seventies, sharp as a tack and a three-time winner of the World Series of Poker. He was a serious player, a well-known celebrity with a huge following. He had the most chips at the table, and Vienna considered him the biggest threat. He was quiet and thoughtful and gave nothing away.
Park Ables, like Vienna, played mostly online. She’d played against his online persona. He played as onehotguy. He was good enough to win huge tournaments. He’d outed himself deliberately, going to Vegas often and bragging about the wins when he sat at the tables. He was extremely good-looking and worked as a successful model.
Theodore Morgan traveled the gambling circuit, following tournaments and often working his way to the final table. He usually came in third or fourth but never made it into that coveted position of winner.
Light shone down on the table, and the dealer, a woman by the name of Eve, took her place. Around them, various onlookers rooting for their favorites stood behind the barrier. They were a good distance away. Vienna was used to the quiet of her room when she gambled, not a huge room with people seated at tables below them, stretching far out into the room as if they were a spectacle to behold. Maybe they were.
She cleared her mind as the cards were dealt. The first thing she did was watch the dealer as she flicked the cards to each person at the table. That well inside her opened, the warmth pouring out, encompassing everything and everyone at the table, including the cards so she was able to see the smallest detail.
Vienna knew what the cards she’d been dealt were without looking, but she glanced at them anyway to ensure she appeared to be just like everyone else. She also knew what everyone else had just by moving her gaze to each of their cards. Leo made his opening bet, which was considerable. He had a pair of twos.
She knew Art, Benny and Park would stay in for certain. Art had a pair of aces, the best possible starting hand in Hold’em. Park had the king and queen of diamonds. Benny had a pair of eights, a hand players liked to see the flop with.
The blinds started at 1,000/2,000. Art raised to 5,000 with his aces. As expected, Park called. Benny was in the big blind of 2,000, so he called the additional 3,000. All the others folded. She folded. So did James. Benny hesitated. He had a pair of eights. He stayed. Theodore folded. Art stayed and raised. There was a low murmur from the crowd at the audacity. Park wavered but remained. Leo folded.
The dealer turned over the eight of diamonds. The ace of spades. The three of diamonds. She could see Park’s sudden excitement. His hand cupped his chips. His face took on a glow. Benny shifted in his chair. Art didn’t so much as look up. She knew Park was going for that next diamond and he wasn’t going to get it. Benny thought he had the best hand with his triple eights. He was certain he’d get an eight. He should have known better. Art had the best possible hand at the moment with his three aces and a hammerlock on the hand.
Benny checked to the initial raiser, Art, who made a small bet enticing players to stay in. Park couldn’t help himself. He was a gambler at heart, and there was no way he was going to fold his flush draw with the turn and river cards both to come.
Benny, who was certain he had the best hand, pounced, pushing half his chips in. “If you’re drawing, you’re going to have to pay,” he declared in a loud, triumphant voice
Art, slow, methodical, calculated as always, thought it through. He knew he was calling but he wanted to entice Park into the pot as well. Without a word, Art slid half of his chips into the middle, signaling a call to the dealer. The action was now on Park.
Park couldn’t help himself. “Two cards, all the money? How can I say no?” Park quickly called. With no more action and all the money in the middle, the dealer turned over the two of hearts. No help. The final card was an inconsequential seven of spades.
Art won the entire pot and seemingly never even got excited. But Vienna could see the smallest wrinkle of a smile on the corner of his mouth. It was the most emotion she had seen from him in all the hours she’d spent studying him.
She found it kind of sad to watch the desperation in Benny, the way he played. He tried to be gracious when he lost hand after hand, making incredibly bad decisions.
The hours went by and gave her an insight into each player’s personality as they played out their cards. It was her bad luck that Benny went out of the game, losing his last hand to her. He put on a fake smile and shook her hand, but she could see it in his eyes that he was upset. He was the first to go and got a round of applause, but that didn’t take the sting away.