It wasn’t spark he was feeling. Marsie was attractive. He was reacting to that, and that alone. Nothing new. Nothing different. Even though he caught himself practically skipping around the bed of his truck to get to the driver’s side. Like he was a teenager on a date with the most popular girl in school and too hormoned-up and giddy to know what to do with his extra energy.
Damn. Was he going to have to rethink his entire perspective on dating? If so, what did that say about the women he’d been on one date with and dismissed?
More importantly, what did it say about Marsie?
By the time he’d bounced around the back of his truck, she’d reached across the front seat and opened his door for him. Then she smiled at him, and her teeth and the light in her eyes both glowed brighter than the stars visible from the middle of the ocean.
“Thanks,” he said as he put the key in the ignition. “Let’s get going. I’m looking forward to my dinner.”
He started the truck and pulled down the lever to reverse a little harder than he’d meant to. Thankfully he had the entire drive to clear his head, because watching her play poker sure as hell wasn’t going to.
* * *
“SO, JASON TELLS us you’re real good at poker,” Kenny said as they all took their seats around the poker table he had in his basement. They always had the game at Kenny’s house. He and his wife, Jill, had started the regular game a couple years ago. Jill used to play with them, but she’d gotten sick of the “swagger,” as she’d called it. Jason didn’t blame her. It’s not that they tried to be mean, but she had been the only woman at the games and borne the brunt of the smack talk. When she’d gotten pregnant, she’d decided pregnancy didn’t go well with boys trying to one-up each other.
She’d also banned cigars. Jason would rather have suffered through the cigar smoke if Jill would have kept playing, but he didn’t blame her for bailing on them. Dell and Burton in particular could be real assholes when they were winning.
To Jason’s delight, Marsie took her time answering. She acknowledged the comments with a raised brow, but instead of responding, kept her stick-straight posture as she peered at each face around the table, over the top of her glasses, even. He didn’t know what she was looking for. If he had to guess, she wasn’t looking for anything, but she was giving them a chance to notice her tight bun, the sharp lines of her face and the prim set of her lips.
Finally, she set just the tips of her fingers on the edge of the table and said, “I put myself through graduate school playing poker online,” with as much starch as he had ever heard come out of her mouth.
“I would say I’m—” she paused for effect, because Jason was sure she knew the word she wanted to use “—not anywhere near one of the best. But I did all right.”
God bless his friends. Jason could practically see them trying to figure out what category Marsie belonged in. She wasn’t warm and friendly, so she couldn’t be put in the Jill-grouping, with women who were maternal and to be adored. They weren’t looking past her cardigan to notice that she was hot, so she couldn’t be slotted in the Venus-side of their understanding of women. She wasn’t backing down, so they couldn’t dismiss her as mousy and easy to push over.
She looked them in the eye like an equal. She didn’t brag and she didn’t bluster.
Dell and Burton, who needed to be taught a lesson, clearly both decided that they couldn’t easily categorize her, and so she wasn’t anything they needed to worry about. Kenny, the only married one in the group, twitched his lips, caught Jason’s eye and shook his head. He was not going to be fooled. Ian, the football coach at a local high-performing high school with a powerhouse of a female principal, raised an eyebrow. He was holding back any judgment until he saw Marsie play. There was a reason his school’s team was one of the best in the state.
As for Marsie, she was clearly enjoying herself.
As per usual, Dell collected the money and passed out the chips. Kenny dealt the first round of cards. Also, as per usual, Jason’s were terrible. Dell’s weren’t any better. He was curling his upper lip, despite being told several times that it was a dead giveaway that he had no cards. Dell was hardworking and the first person Jason would call if he had a body to bury, but sometimes the man didn’t think for shit. Kenny used to have several easy tells, but Jill had trained him out of them. Burton scratched his head if his cards were either good or bad, so he was only an easy read if, like now, he didn’t move. Ian drew on the table with his finger as if he were making a play for his quarterback to study.
Marsie’s face was blank and she was studying each person at the table, even—Jason realized when she caught his eye—him. He winked and she smiled.
When it was time to bet, Marsie had completely rearranged her face. She looked unsure. Cautious. Suddenly, she looked less like she could turn into a sexy librarian at any moment and more like she wanted to disappear into her seat. The corner of her mouth went up. Then the other. And finally, she slid a matching bet across the table.
Jason folded after the flop. He didn’t have the cards, and he wanted to watch what Marsie was doing. He’d asked her to play because he was sure she was good, and it would be fun to watch his friends lose their shirts.
He’d underestimated Marsie. She was going to be fun to watch. Her cautious movements lasted through the turn and into the river. Both Dell and Burton seemed caught up by how her body was moving, rather than the amount of money she was putting in. By the end of the betting, everyone but Kenny had fallen for the trick. Dell, the fool, was still in, despite his horrible cards. When they all revealed their cards, Marsie won with a pair of queens.
“Oh,” she said with delight as she pulled the pile toward her. “How lucky!” Her shoulders shimmied the entire time she stacked her chips.
“How much did you win?” Burton asked, finally looking down at his chips and realizing how much smaller his pile was.
“I think the question you should ask is, how much did you lose?” Kenny drawled.
That basic play was repeated through the night. If you ignored her acting, Marsie played tight and aggressive poker. She didn’t bet often, but when she did, she lured anyone willing to stay in to bet high. When she was betting, she never played the same person twice. She moved from cautious to confident to wild to careless. Her game play never changed, but she was acting different parts. And most of the table fell for it each time.
Jason and Kenny did okay through the entire night. By the last couple hands, Ian had figured out that she was playing him and had started to do better. Dell and Burton never figured it out. They continued reacting to who they’d decided she was and never stopped to notice how skilled she truly was.
And they were pissed, which Jason thought was hilarious.
“How did you win?” Dell asked. He broke the tip of a pencil marking down Marsie’s winnings and calculated how much of the cash she was due.
“Same way anyone wins at poker,” she said, back to the matter-of-fact Marsie that he knew and loved to have coffee with. “I played the odds and the other players. Playing the other players turns out to be both harder and easier in person.”
“But you didn’t know how to play poker,” Burton protested.
“Where’d you get that idea?” Marsie asked, all innocence.
“You didn’t know...” Realization dawned on Burton’s face, and he didn’t finish his statement.
“I never asked how to play. In fact, Kenny said he’d heard I was a good player, and I told him that I’d put myself through graduate school playing poker online. I said I wasn’t the best, but that I did all right.”
“You didn’t listen to her,” Ian said with a shake of his head. “Neither did you, Dell. She talked and told you exactly how good of a player she was. You saw a woman with a bun and decided it wasn’t possible for her to be good at poker, even though Jason had told us she w
as good.”
“But she said she didn’t play well.” Dell still hadn’t wrapped his head around his mistake.
“No,” Kenny said, clearly exasperated. “She said she wasn’t one of the best, but she did all right.”
Dell’s mouth formed what would be a pout on a woman. Jason didn’t know what the male version was. Exasperated. Whiny? “How did you two not get cleaned out?”
Kenny leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest and looking to the ceiling like he was seeking guidance from God—though he was probably looking to where he thought his wife might be hiding. “I’m married to a smart woman. I know not to underestimate them.”
Jason sat back and looked at Marsie while he answered. She looked like a cat who had gotten into the cream, with a mouse topping. “My mom was the one who taught me not to underestimate women. And I have an advantage. I’ve worked with Marsie for years. I know her reputation and that she can do anything I can do, and she can do it better.”
He would swear to God that she was trying not to blush. She at least pursed her lips, as if the compliment he had just given her pleased her enough that if she wasn’t careful, her happiness would burble out of her mouth in an explosion of bubbles.
Footsteps hit the stairs and everyone, including Marsie, turned to look. Jill was walking down to the basement. In true Jill style, she was wearing plaid, flannel pajama pants and an oversize hoodie, with bare feet. If she was inside, Jill was barefoot, no matter the temperature.
“So who won?” she asked as her feet hit the bottom step.
On the surface, Jill seemed to be everything Marsie wasn’t. Where Marsie was sharp, Jill was round. Where Marsie was brilliant and educated at universities that Jason had only the barest understanding of, Jill had gone to community college to become a phlebotomist, which she’d promptly quit when she’d had a baby. It had been a great job, she said, and she believed in the work she was doing, but she knew she was just biding her time until she started having kids.
But at their core, Jill and Marsie were two sides of the same coin. They were opinionated and sure of the decisions they had made in their lives. They knew what they wanted and worked to make it happen. Both women were kind, generous, tough and no-nonsense.
“I did,” Marsie said. Jason couldn’t tell if she was purposely sounding prim or if she was proud and they were all being fooled by the cardigan, but Dell gave her a sideways glance, irritation still present in his face.
“Excellent,” Jill said with a clap of her hands, delight clear on her face. “Did you clean them out?”
Marsie didn’t have to answer. Burton did it for her when he shoved away from the table with a huff.
Jill laughed. “I don’t know how often I heard that poker was a man’s game. I even won, occasionally, but I never pissed Burton off to that extent.”
She crossed the old, stained shag carpet of the basement to where Marsie was sitting and stuck out her hand. Marsie stood before she took it. Instead of shaking hands, Jill pulled her into a hug. Marsie was stiff at first, but quickly relaxed.
When they pulled apart, Jill patted the other woman on her arms, still clearly thrilled by the circle of grumpy men around the table. “I’m so happy to meet you. If you’re coming to play regularly, I might even rejoin the game. It would be an honor to be beaten by you.”
Marsie glanced around the table. Dell and Burton both alternated between pissed and trying to understand where they’d misjudged her. Ian also looked irritated, but Jason knew it was with himself. Kenny looked amused. Jason hoped he looked proud. He sure as hell felt proud, both of himself for his idea of bringing Marsie along and for how well she’d lived up to his expectations of her play. The way she’d lured Dell and Burton into betting more than they should and then kept them off their feet so that they weren’t about to get a bead on her was better than anything he could have hoped for.
When she looked back at Jill, she said, “I’m not sure I’ll be welcome back at this game by everyone.”
Jill waved away her concerns. “It’s my house, so they don’t have final say over who gets invited and who doesn’t. They just think they do.”
“It’s Kenny’s house, too,” Burton said.
“Burton, you’re whining,” Ian said, disgusted. “We were all beat by a woman. Jason told us he was bringing a woman who would beat us, and we didn’t believe him. She said she was good, and we didn’t believe her. She played each bet textbook perfect, like she had the odds of poker hands memorized and was recalculating everything with each card laid on the table.”
“I do,” Marsie said, her glee now clear in her voice. “And I was. I also add up the prices of things in the grocery store in my head as I put them in my cart. I have a running game with myself to see how close I am when the cashier is ringing me up. Tax, discounts and everything. I’m usually accurate to the penny.”
“Okay, now that’s cool,” Jason said. “It’s the best parlor trick I’ve ever heard.” He had never imagined that he might want to go grocery shopping with a woman, but doing anything and everything with Marsie sounded like fun. She seemed like she would be a predictable person, putting healthy food in her cart and reading labels to choose the best yogurt, but all the while, under the surface of her smooth skin, there was a whole new world.
Jason wanted a chance to be a part of that world. Not just with coffee a couple times a week and the occasional lunch. Not at a poker game that she came to as a guest. And not like her smarts were a circus trick. Just that she was amazing, and he didn’t think he could fully understand just how amazing unless he had a chance to spend as much time with her as humanly possible.
Ian just sighed. “Of course you do. Jason even told us that you loved math and statistics, and we could have made the leap that you would play the percentages better than we would.”
“But poker is a game of style,” Dell said, still trying to grasp what had happened. He probably wouldn’t figure it out until he’d had a chance to sleep on it.
“And she beat us there, too. As Kenny was dealing out the cards, I’ll bet she was getting the measure of each of us. She played us like violins.”
“I play the cello,” Marsie said, and Jill laughed.
“Whatever.” Ian was still clearly more irritated with himself than he was with Marsie. Come morning, he would probably find a reason to be irritated with Jason for being out three hundred dollars, but right now he knew that he was the one who’d fallen for Marsie’s tricks.
Ian turned in his chair to face Marsie instead of Dell and Burton. “Marsie, as far as I’m concerned, you’re welcome at any poker game I’m invited to. Playing poker with you will only make me a better player. Though I’m curious how well you’ll do now that we all know your tricks.”
Playing poker with you will only make me a better player. There it was. The reason Jason liked to drink his coffee with Marsie. The reason he wanted to know and understand her world, not just the math, but the care and interest she quietly showed for each person she interacted with. Almost like they were numbers and she was calculating their worth, but for her, that wasn’t as inhumane as it sounded, because she loved numbers and figuring things out and she applied the same intense interest to people.
And Jason could learn from her. She could make him better. That thought was more attractive than a nice set of breasts or great legs.
Or the illusion of spark. It had to be the illusion of spark. Because spark happened right away. Like lighting a fire.
Except, you fool, that sometimes you have to strike a match a couple times. And making a fire with nothing but sticks takes time, but the payoff always feels good. Better than a lighter.
Marsie smiled and, for the first time that night, looked soft. “I still have tricks up my sleeve.”
Ian only grunted. “I guess we deserve that.”
“Ha,
” Jill scoffed. “I should have come down to watch this. You guys were a pain in the ass when I played. I hope you’re all eating ramen noodles because she took so much money from you.”
Dell shifted in his chair. “Not ramen noodles.”
“Spaghetti with jarred sauce and nothing else is almost as good,” Jill said with a twinkle in her eye and evil delight in her voice.
“We should get together sometime, Marsie. Lunch. Or drinks. You can teach me your poker tricks, and I’ll tell you how to stab a man so that he doesn’t notice.” The sinister edge to Jill’s smile made all the men sitting around the table squirm. “It takes skill in the stab, of course, but there’s also the words you use to distract him. Those words matter more.”
“You never...” Having had all his money taken from him by a woman, Burton was suddenly uncertain about all women it seemed, even Jill, whom he had known for years.
“No.” She waved him off, her face back to the round softness they had all grown used to. “I’m not cruel. But it’s fun to make you think twice about the next time you hear a woman is better than you at something and you decide to ignore the warning.”
“Speaking from experience, it usually takes men several more times being beaten before they realize the woman sitting across the table from them is an actual person with skills and emotions and their own thoughts.” Marsie’s smile didn’t quite make it to her eyes.
“Good,” Jill said with a hard nod. “When we go out, we’ll get a fancy dinner with lots of drinks and a cab ride home. I’ll let the men—by way of you—pay for it.”
“Hey,” Jason said. “I have first dibs on that money. Marsie’s taking me out to dinner.”
“What?” Four men’s heads turned to face him, all with the same expression of pissed-off confusion.
“Sure. I brought Marsie here because I think she’s cool.” There was the understatement of the year. “And I knew she was good at poker. And that some of you would underestimate her and so she would be better. But I figured that if I was going to invite her to a night where she’d win five hundred dollars, then I should get a piece of it.”
Dating by Numbers Page 15
