Cause and Affection

by Sheryl Wright

  “It’s how you introduced yourself. It was second nature, no hint of a more common version. Do you let anyone call you Maddie?”

  The woman seemed torn between answering her and just plain walking away. As the opening betting round continued, she pushed out two twenty-dollar chips to call the bet then answered with less enthusiasm, “You must be a student of human behavior.”

  “Sorry, professional observation, that’s all. I didn’t mean to be a dick.”

  Madeleine laughed, eyes on the table as the dealer turned over the flop. “I hate to ask but what kind of work do you do? Oh God, you’re not some sort of detective, are you?”

  That question had Kara grinning, “Close. I do spend an inordinate amount of time nosing around but not on people. I investigate trends.” She watched Madeleine chuck her cards while Mr. Poker was max betting again. Clearly, his fresh beer was fueling this latest push. Kara smiled at the woman beside her and called his bet. Both women watched while the betting round preceded. Once complete, their chips were added to the pot. The dealer burned the top card before flipping over the turn card. Mr. Poker was first up and maxed out the bet. Kara listened as a few of the old boys grumbled. How very interesting to be sitting beside a beautiful woman and surrounded by grumpy old men. She had been paying more attention to Madeleine than the other players and had missed Mr. Poker’s reaction to his cards. Judging by his non-reaction to the turn card and his continued aggressive betting she was sure he was bluffing, again. She met his bet even though she had yet to check her cards. Too late now.

  Beside her, Madeleine intently followed the hand, sipping from her cocktail and quietly humming to herself. Others might have found that bothersome but Kara was enjoying the sound and the woman when Mr. Poker shoved his last chips forward in a move that signaled he was all in. His commitment was meant to scare others, and she was surprised to see two players immediately fold. That left just her, Mr. Poker, and two old boys at the end of the table. It would be a good hand to win. Even though she had no clue what she was holding she smiled the most condescending smile she could muster before pushing two hundred dollars in chips forward. “Call.”

  The dealer signaled for them all to turn their cards over. The old boys were sitting on respectable hands. Mr. Poker had fisted his cards waiting for Kara to reveal her hand first. She kept the condescending look on her face knowing the dealer would make him present first. It took a minute for him to realize they were waiting for him. He complained but finally tossed his cards over, then huffed back in his seat looking very much like he wanted to spit in Kara’s face. He’d tried to run the table with a three and a seven. Kara turned her cards over, seeing her hand for the first time. She took the pot with a full house.

  As she raked in her chips, she felt the woman beside her give a subtle shoulder bump. “Nice.”

  “Thank you, grown-up Madeleine, never little Maddie.” Kara could feel the woman’s eyes on her and chanced to look. She assumed she’d be pissed or at least annoyed. Her amused smile was the last thing she was expecting. She returned the smile while something inside clicked into place. They spent the next few hands in relative silence. That was all it took before their allied play busted Mr. Poker. Kara almost cried to see him pull five one-hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and buy back in. That was the downfall of playing an open table as opposed to tournament play. If he’d gone broke in a tournament match, that would be it, but as long as he had money, he could sit and play.

  Kara marveled to watch Madeleine take him on. It was remarkable how intuitive they were with one another. They had become an unofficial tag team, taking turns to take out Mr. Poker while never betting against one another. It wasn’t like they were cheating. They would both check their cards and more often than not, pay to see the flop. By the time the second betting round was complete, one or the other would fold, and it looked like they each intuitively guessed who had the best hand or the greatest chance of besting the table and Mr. Poker.

  “Thank you.”

  That stopped Kara. She smiled before checking her cards and calling. “You’re welcome. I don’t know what you’re thanking me for, but you’re most welcome.”

  “You’re Canadian, aren’t you?”

  She looked around before answering. “Guilty. What gave it away? Was it my hypothetical accent, my sense of humor, or was I too polite?”

  As the betting came around, Madeleine checked her cards again, seeming to look hesitant, maybe even confused before increasing the bet. Her bet was marginal but perfect, too. Kara always considered the limping players a pain, except when the player used it as a tactic against a bully. It was a perfect move. Kara, next in order to place a bet, made like the cards were bad and chucked her hand. She made sure to inch back in her chair. She wanted to watch Madeleine take him on but didn’t want to risk him noticing her mirth. It was also a perfect angle to watch Madeleine in profile. In the advertising world, the profile was the beauty shot. Kara had noticed her hair before, but under the lights of the business office, she had registered a darker tone, maybe Avenger Auburn but down here under the house lights, she had to admit the perfect glossy waves were Riddler Red. She should know. She’d been stuck naming sixty-four shades for a hair coloring campaign just last year. Although considering it more carefully now, she would have called Madeleine’s natural hair shade Bad Ass Red Brass. Of course that name had been rejected long before it was even suggested to the client. It was still her favorite. As if hearing everything she was thinking, Madeleine turned to face her, a smile so radiant her eyes were alight. Green, light mossy green…

  “Order me another drink?” she asked, delivering a wicked grin with her request.

  Her attention was back on the table, the game, and mostly Mr. Poker whose head was beginning to resemble a great big sugar beet. His stack of new chips had dwindled fast, and it looked like he would have to call Madeleine’s bet or try to limp his way through one more hand. Of course he could always buy more chips, but she had a feeling either his pride or his bride had set his limit. It would be interesting to calculate all his options or lack thereof.

  Madeleine’s poker face smiled ever so slightly at the river card. Kara knew it was more for the effect than anything and noted the steam rising from Mr. Poker’s ears. Would his head blow right here? With just forty dollars in chips left, he made the classic mistake of following the pot. He was all in. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t buy more chips. As the betting round continued, Kara focused on him and his aggravated mood. He was tapping nervously on his cards and mumbling under his breath. He was also fixated on Madeleine’s hand. Not the player, just the cards, and it hit her. This guy was so sure a woman couldn’t be beating him at poker, she had to be what…cheating? It was all she could do not to laugh out loud. Where did guys like this come from? Did they have a special school or something?

  Cards were turned over, and Mr. Poker freaked out. He threw his cards across the table. An infraction in poker that had you removed. He stood, knocking his chair over. The stunt with the cards had already caught the attention of the pit boss. Now the chair thing invited security into the mix. Kara was a little shocked at how fast two hulking gentlemen in suits appeared, both latching onto the flailing arm of the irate player being evicted from the game.

  “Fucking dykes!” he hissed as he disappeared into the main casino floor.

  The pit boss said, “Ms. Jessepp, Ms. Wexler, gentlemen, please accept my apology. I’m happy to provide complimentary dinner passes for everyone.”

  Again, Madeleine turned a brilliant smile on her, eyes alight with mischief. “I’m more in the mood for a quiet drink somewhere. How about you?”

  Kara found herself lost in the brilliance of her eyes and had to replay the moment in her mind, “A drink? Yes,” she answered with a decisive smile. A drink with a beautiful and genuine woman was something far and away too absent in her life these last few years. “Absolutely. Yes.”

  Chapter Three

  Lily’s Bar wasn’t f
ar from the poker room and provided the best view of the casino floor and a perfect place to enjoy a quiet conversation. “That was amazing!” Madeleine said, leading Kara past the velvet rope barrier to a seating area marked reserved.

  Kara was surprised to watch her plop down on the couch next to her instead of one of the nearby seats. Madeleine immediately angled herself to face her, her actions open and inviting. As she moved and spoke, her hands moved with her patter, while her knee kept lightly brushing the edge of Kara’s thigh. Was that just a coincidence or was it intentional? Before she could decide or move, the waitress delivered a round of drinks, then hurried away.

  Kara joked, “I thought Mr. Poker’s head was going to explode.” Both women laughed before trying their drinks. That smile. That warmth and natural beauty…I could put her on the cover of any ad campaign and not be surprised when sales spike.

  She sat transfixed as Madeleine watched her knowingly, all the while raising her cocktail glass to her lips, practically caressing the tumbler as she took another sip. Never letting her eyes break contact, she asked suggestively, “Are you always the ruthless opponent at the poker table, Ms. Wexler? If so, remind me to stay on your good side.” This she added with a wink.

  “Don’t pin that one on me. It was all you.” She couldn’t help but laugh, really laugh again. Was Madeleine’s excitement rubbing off on her? “Besides, I’m not the one who laid the final blow.”

  “To teamwork then,” Madeleine said, holding up her glass for a toast.

  Talk about passion and an incredibly creative problem solver. Did she do that for me? No way she could know how much I hate guys like that. Incredible! She raised her glass to meet Madeleine’s. “To teamwork.” She let the taste of premium gin warm her throat while the hot woman next to her took care of the rest. She was losing track of how long she’d been staring, staring and listening, when a couple of guys invited themselves to join in. They were drunk and obnoxious, and she was surprised when the hostess quickly rushed in to move them off to another area, promising them a better view of the action. As far as she was concerned, she had the best view in town.

  “Back when I was a kid,” Madeleine began, “I hated bullies like that. They think the world owes them something just because their family has a bit of money.”

  Kara listened, noticing a momentary flinch in Madeleine’s eyes. The way she veered from professional to personal like that, she was definitely not shy about her point of view. If she wanted to learn more about Madeleine, a few questions should be enough to pinpoint her buyer persona. Stop it! Get out of work mode and just enjoy yourself.

  When her sister had dragged her to the airport that morning, Kara never would have imagined sitting here twelve hours later with such a beautiful and charming woman. She might be among the best at what she did professionally, but attracting pretty women was not on the list. She had long since given up on the idea that anyone could find her attractive. Especially after her last relationship. She had come to believe she just wasn’t relationship material. Worse, she had learned to be suspicious of women who pretended to be attracted to her. Short in stature, and considering herself plain, she was sure all the rowing and lacrosse she did added little appeal. If anything, her adherence to an unconventional fitness routine and obscure sports just made her seem weirder to most women. These facts hadn’t abated her attractions, but the dismal results of her love life had never been worth the trouble.

  Ever since she’d joined the family business, her love life had suffered. Of course, she never lacked for company, but one night stands and casual dating didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. Most women were simply out for her money and ran for the hills the moment they found out she wasn’t as liberal with her wallet as she was with her affection.

  When she met Chrystal, she’d hoped she was different. She had her own career and seemed to be thriving, and the woman’s looks and charm did the rest. Chrystal’s supposed success had been the key to Kara lowering her guard. It wasn’t long before she found herself on Chrystal time. Kara could wait hours for Chrystal, considered an A-lister among Toronto’s arts and film industry elite, to prep herself for each outing. Kara could admit she enjoyed having a lovely woman on her arm. As their relationship grew, so did Kara’s trust. The two women were well-known and well liked on the red carpet and often found their relationship held up as an example of a great celebrity couple: Kara, the iconic publicity mogul, and her partner, Chrystal, the gallery owner.

  Except Chrystal had lied about owning shares in her gallery, she just worked there. By the time Kara learned that little detail, Chrystal was fully fused into her life. They were happy together, the money issue seemed inconsequential. It looked as if all was going charmingly until Kara’s workload got the best of her. That and her father’s constant interference and emotional battering. Her successful relationship became one more fact driving his disdain. And while his personal and professional attacks escalated, she told those who cared that she was forced to focus her diminishing energy on business, no longer able or willing to spend it on social gatherings and nightly socializing. She knew it was depression. At a loss as to how to turn things around, she concentrated on herself and herself alone. As the depression began to take hold, charity events and the city’s renowned celebrity-studded cultural affairs held little interest for her. Her priorities were changing. She craved comfort from Chrystal. Her idea of a perfect evening now consisted of curling up on the couch and ordering in food.

  It wasn’t long before they were fighting almost daily. Chrystal was a social butterfly and needed to be out and seen. To compensate for her lack of interest, Kara was happy to send her to the latest events on her own while she herself put in more time at the office, working hard to keep the clients happy and her father from fucking things up even more. The tactic, sending Chrystal solo, only appeased her for a few months. When she began to complain that her outfits had all been seen, that her jewelry was dated, Kara broke. She was already footing the bill for all of Chrystal’s expenses, including weekly manicures, hair appointments, and spa days. Only weeks after moving herself in, Chrystal had come clean about the gallery, admitting she had been fired and didn’t actually own any part of the place. That had been the first confession in what would be a hard and fast betrayal.

  Only weeks later, after a particularly long and ugly day at work, Kara climbed the stairs to her rooftop condo feeling broken and vulnerable, only to find her enormous space trashed, a complete disaster from a party of Chrystal’s. Then Chrystal opened her mouth about some new dress she needed, and Kara knew it had to stop. She was tired but more than that, suddenly she realized that she could care less about Chrystal and her wants. That was all she needed to know that it was over. The woman was no different than all the rest. The many who recognized her only by her family name and her media connections and imagined her a stepping stone on the path to their own aspirations. Not wanting to fight, she told Chrystal she needed some quiet time alone, suggesting she visit her family for a few days. She grabbed a glass of wine, heading for the master bath and the huge claw foot tub. She would enjoy a hot bath while she tried to sort out what to do about her less than ideal relationship and her insufferable job. When she surfaced, Chrystal was gone, along with everything Kara had given her. The woman even had the gall to take the painting Kara had bought from her on their first meeting. It was a small price to pay. At least this way, she could avoid the whole “it’s not working” conversation.

  With the relationship decision made for her, Kara had thrown herself into her work more than ever. Now, two years later, she had little interest in starting anew with anyone. What was the point if it all ended in the same place?

  “So, what brings you to Vegas?” Madeleine asked.

  How should she answer that? I’m here because my sister begged me into helping her one last time with a job that I hate? Because my brother went behind my back and hid my letter of resignation? Or maybe I should just shut up. “Business.”


  “So elusive,” Madeleine said, teasing and sounding intrigued.

  That made Kara laugh. She had a bad habit of being too serious and she knew it. “Fine. If you must know, I’m helping my sister with coordinating an annual event for our company,” she said with a bit of an edge. As she heard her own voice, she softened its effect with an ironic smile. What is it about this woman? I haven’t smiled this much in ages!

  “Well, I get the idea you don’t like to talk about your work much. What do you do besides work and play poker like a shark?”

  “It’s not that I don’t like to talk about it. I guess things are just complicated right now.”

  Before Madeleine could reply, her phone rang. She picked it up and mouthed the word ”sorry” before stepping away a few feet. She watched as Madeleine paced the carpeted floor, speaking to someone Kara imagined important. She is captivating. I couldn’t have picked out a woman better suited to my tastes if I’d been presented with a catalogue of personal traits. Madeleine came back to the couch and sat down, immediately reaching for her drink. She seemed distracted, not sitting as close as before and Kara missed the contact. “Everything okay?”

  “Unfortunately, I was just reminded about a dinner engagement,” she said, before polishing off her drink. “I’m sorry to end our afternoon this way, but I’ve really got to go.”

  “No worries. I should get going too. I’ve got plans with my sister,” Kara said, frowning at what sounded like a stupid excuse. On that note, Madeleine stood up, and Kara followed suit. No way I can just let this woman walk out of my life. “Do you have plans after supper?”

  “Supper?” Madeleine asked teasingly. “Well if you mean to ask if I have after-dinner plans, no. Where should we meet?”

  Stunned, Kara almost stuttered before suggesting they meet right here and setting a time. Before she knew what was happening, Madeleine leaned in for a hug. She was taller than Kara, and Kara’s face fit perfectly in the crook of her neck. My God. Her hair smells so fresh and earthy. The embrace didn’t last more than a second but the hair on Kara’s arms and the back of her neck prickled to attention as Madeleine’s fingers trailed down her spine to the small of her back.