Poker Night
“So we’re clear,”I said to Wyatt as we approached Mal’s front door the following night, ready to play poker. “You say nothing about Nora.”
“You mean I should avoid talking about the girl you took back to your apartment and did nasty things to all night long?”He hummed the song that had been playing in the background of the video and wiggled his eyebrows. We’d deleted the video, but the ripple effect was ridiculous. I had ten thousand followers and everyone was talking about Nora and Rene again.
Worse, Nora hadn’t come in to work today and she wasn’t returning my calls. I had one text from her.
Nora: I’m lying low until this blows over.
Me:Okay. Come lie low with me.
To which she replied with total silence.
So, I brought Wyatt to the poker game as a major league distraction.
“You’re not talking about Nora in any context,” I warned him. “You’re going to be charming and interesting. You’re going to tell stories about the good old days of hockey when men were tough, and let people wear your ring if they want.”
“I can do the stories, the ring and the interesting part. Charming isn’t really my bag.”
I glared at him. The truth was, I was freaking out. Sure, there was the Roy of it all that I was going to have to deal with. But I didn’t know how to fix this for Nora. How to make it right. All I knew was, she wouldn’t want me talking about her or us at poker. So I wasn’t going to and I brought Wyatt along to make sure no one did.
“Charming,” Wyatt relented. “Got it. So…what am I? Your brother?”
“I think everyone already knows who you are.”
“Boy, you really like keeping people at arm’s length, don’t you?”
“You want to play poker or not?” I barked at him. I couldn’t fight the internet so I was looking for another target for all this frustration. And yes, I knew he’d put me in the ground with one swing of his fist, but I felt just that out of control.
“Yes, please. The only reason I left Syd home alone tonight was so I could meet your friends. Let’s do this.” Wyatt clapped his hands together.
I didn’t bother knocking, the door was always unlocked on poker night and I stepped into the foyer of Mal's home.
“Wow,” Wyatt said, looking around at all the gleaming wood and herringbone floors. “What’s this guy do again?” he asked. It was impossible to put everything Malcolm Bettencourt did into words, so all I said was: “runs things.”
The living room was set up for the poker game. Everyone was there already gathered around the special table Mal had made. When they saw me, they started giving me grief for being late.
Mal was dealing the cards. Roy, Sheriff Bobby, Fiona and Matt all had chips in front of them. Plus, two open chairs. I’d let Mal know in advance I was bringing someone. When they saw Wyatt, everyone went quiet.
I grinned. Just the reaction I was hoping for.
“Hey everyone. I brought…this is Wyatt Locke.”
“Hey, man,” Bobby said, getting it together first. He stood up to shake Wyatt’s hand. “Good to meet you. I just saw you on TV doing the game of the week. I love your play by play commentary. You really know your hockey.”
“He played for the Peaks for twelve years,” Roy said to Bobby. “Of course he knows his shit.” Roy gave Wyatt a head nod, Wyatt returned it. Those two would either get into a fight or become life-long friends. Hard to say how that would go.
“Is it true you make Sydney Malloy sing to you every night before you go to bed?” Fiona asked Wyatt. Of course she wouldn’t want to talk hockey. “I saw a post about it.”
“I do not. But I might have her start, now that you suggested it,” he said, tongue in cheek. He took one of the empty seats and immediately the table looked child sized in front of him.
“What’s your favorite song by her?” Fiona grilled him. “Clearly, I’m a fan.”
“Whichever one she’s singing, ma’am.”
“That’s sweet,” Fiona smiled, she patted his arm. “Nice to meet you.”
“Are we playing poker or grilling Wyatt?” I asked the table.
