His Frozen Heart

by Nancy Straight

  She reached around me and picked up a wing off the plate. I felt like a feral dog ready to bite her hand, but resisted the urge. Libby winked at Chris, no doubt trying to make nice, “I love that shirt.”

  I hadn’t paid attention before, but she was right, he was wearing a nice shirt. Chris was okay to look at – not an Adonis by any stretch of the imagination. He was average height, average build, and usually wore an easy smile: the kind of guy you wanted to leave a big tip for if moths weren’t flying out of your wallet.

  Chris forced a smile back at her. He shouldn’t have bothered, because it looked like it was painful for him. The shirt he wore was a black button down: the material had a sheen to it with designs woven into the fabric. Something about the shirt made him look more attractive than normal. Or maybe it was that he had just fed me and somewhere deep within my primal being that bumped him up on the attractiveness scale.

  Chris warned Libby, “I already told Candy, no bets tonight. If you’re playing, it better be for fun.”

  Libby actually batted her eyes. She shouldn’t have because it made her look disingenuous. Her voice was sweet as she answered, “It’s always for fun. Some times are just more enjoyable than others.”

  Chris wasn’t budging as he pointed toward the exit. “There’s the door. Feel free to use it if you have anything beyond a friendly game of pool in mind.”

  She leaned up on the bar, so far up that her toes were barely on the floor as she balanced her body weight with her forearms. She leaned all the way across the bar and put her mouth right up against Chris’s ear. Although she whispered, I could still hear her words, “Twenty bucks if you look the other way.”

  He pushed her face away from his ear and shot her a glare. “Twenty?” He looked around the bar, then quietly answered, “If any of these chumps complain, it’s my job. I have to eat, too.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not taking the title to anyone’s car. We just need groceries.”

  She held his glare. I wondered if something more had happened between them? It wasn’t like him to hold a grudge. His eyes darted to the floor while he considered her words. When he finally looked back at Libby, he nodded his head. “Fine. Twenty bucks. You’ve got fifteen minutes, that’s it.”

  Her victory smile emerged, “I need forty-five.”

  Chris scowled and looked at me. I answered his scowl with a smile, quietly adding, “She needs to play at least three games, maybe four.”

  Yes, there was a psychology to taking someone’s money in a bar. “Taking” was the wrong word: convincing them to wager with us. Libby was great at it. She let them know she had moves, but never ran the table in the beginning. It was a series of, “I can’t believe I just made that shot!” or “I wish I had a video of that one,” or one of my all-time favorites, “Have you ever lost to two girls?”

  She always dressed for the part, too, choosing attire that would make her opponents pay more attention to her than to the game. This was the only part that bothered me: some of her outfits covered less than a bikini. I wouldn’t so much care if it were just her, but she insisted I wear the same sort of uniform regardless of the temperatures outside.

  Within one game she could size up who would be willing to part with some money. She always threw the second game, then would offer to bet on the third. Usually, whoever she was talking to was so enamored with her, they weren’t even concentrating on the game.

  Chris reached over and put his hand on my forearm, “Forty-five minutes, not a second more.”

  Libby had the green light she needed and didn’t waste one second of it. She went to table four where the two guys were still playing. I didn’t have to hear her to know she was successful. The shorter of the two stood up from his shot and slid all the balls into the center of the table, put coins in to retrieve the balls which had already gone in and began re-racking. She motioned for me to come over.

  I set the last chicken bone down on the plate, smiled at Chris, and said, “Wish me luck.”

  Chapter 3

  The tall guy with the bad case of acne kept his eyes averted, preferring instead to look at the pool table rather than watch my approach. I wasn’t dressed as skimpily as Libby, but I knew the skirt and boots I had on normally drew men’s eyes to me. I smiled at him as I approached to introduce myself, “Hi, I’m Candy.”

  His eyes roved from the pool table, down to my boots and shyly made their way up to mine. He looked nervous, as if two women didn’t normally invite themselves over to play a game of pool with him. His answer was stiff, “Tony.”

  Libby beamed from across the table, “That should be easy to remember, Teddy and Tony,” as she gestured to the shorter man closer to her, letting me know his name, then she introduced me to Teddy, “This is my friend, Candy.”

  The first game went quickly. Teddy racked, Libby broke, and she put four balls into the pocket. Teddy took their first turn and dropped five. I put in two and Tony sunk one. There were only three balls left on the table, and Libby won without even having to do any fancy bank shots.

  Teddy leaned toward Libby, his eyes glued to her outfit as if he were an inspector in a sweat shop. “Damn, that was fast. You two want to play again?”

  Libby smiled, “Sure, we don’t have to be anywhere for a half hour.”

  Teddy’s curiosity was piqued, “Where are you two off to? A date?”

  Libby dismissed the idea brazenly, “On a Tuesday night? No. Candy has a test she has to study for. I promised if she came out with me to play a couple games, I’d make dinner so she could study.”

  Close enough to the truth not to raise suspicion. Teddy eyed me, “A test? You’re in college?”

  It was a fair question. Libby and I were both twenty, so we didn’t drink, at least not in bars. We looked young enough that we could easily be jail bait, so good for him for checking to make sure I wasn’t in high school.

  I nodded, “Yeah, my sophomore year.”

  His attention turned back to Libby, “So, you two stay in the dorms?”

  Libby flirt-punched him, “No, we have a house on the east side of town. High school was enough for me. I work.”

  Tony had quietly racked the balls without asking if we wanted to play again. Teddy gestured to the table, his eyes fixed on Libby, “It’s your table. You’re going to play us again so we can get it back, right?”

  I felt eyes on me from across the room. I turned expecting to see Chris staring our way, but was surprised to see a different set of eyes watching me. It took me a second to place who they belonged to: Dave Brewer leaned up against a wall. I hadn’t seen him since the summer after we graduated. Dave was stalky, tall, but built solid. He was wearing dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt stretched taut across his chest, and black boots. I held up my hand in a half wave, but he didn’t return my wave or nod in my direction or anything. That was odd. The two of us hadn’t kept in touch after high school, but we were good friends our senior year. I wanted to go over and say hi, but Libby would blow a gasket if I did.

  I couldn’t help but steal glances in his direction: each time I looked his way, he was staring at me. Dave had changed a lot since high school. He had been stringy and awkward looking, but he had filled out the last couple years. Libby shot me a warning glance reminding me I needed to stick to the routine. She broke again, but this time she only got three balls in. Teddy sunk six. I put in one, Tony dropped one, and it was her turn again. We still had three balls on the table, Teddy and Tony were on the eight ball, Libby made it look good but missed her shot. Before I had a chance to shoot again, the men had won.

  So far we were seriously keeping to Chris’s original timeframe. We’d been playing with them for less than ten minutes. Libby went into shark-mode, “You two got lucky. If I hadn’t missed that last one, you’d be racking again,” she challenged.

  Teddy answered in a self-deprecating way, “I know. You’re pretty good.”

  Damn, I hated it when she took money from nice guys. I actually kind of liked it whe
n she took money from the cocky ones. After all the chicken wings from Chris, I wasn’t nearly as desperate for manicotti. She answered slyly, “I think your luck’s about to change. We’ve got time for one more before we have to leave.”

  Stroking his pool cue slowly, Teddy argued, “One more? Come on, you two just got here.”

  Libby shook her head, “Nope, I promised.”

  Attempting to barter for our company, Teddy suggested, “If you’re so sure my luck’s about to change, how about if we win this next one, the two of you have to stay and play.”

  Libby raised an eyebrow. “Really? What makes you so sure you can beat us?”

  He tipped an invisible hat and put on a slow-southern drawl, “Darlin’, this ain’t my first rodeo.”

  Libby smirked, “Pretty confident. So, if you win, we stay and play, if we win we leave? That’s the worst bet I’ve ever heard.”

  Teddy’s cocky nature reared its head when he countered, “Name your price, Sweetheart.”

  Watching Libby shark was a thing of beauty. She was reeling them in, “If you win, we’ll stay and play another game, but if we win, you make it worth our while. Fifty dollars.”

  Teddy’s surprise registered. “That’s pretty steep.”

  “Only if you’re going to lose.”

  Teddy shook his head. “You’re serious?”

  “Yes.”

  Teddy eyed Libby more cautiously. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to take advantage of me and my little brother here.”

  Libby set her cue on the table, “Never mind, Candy and I can go.”

  He held up both of his hands with his palms facing Libby, “Now, I didn’t say the two of you had to go. But I’m not willing to lay down fifty bucks for the pleasure of anyone’s company – well, at least not for their company in a bar. You want to bet money, the wager is equal on both sides.”

  Libby gave her innocent smile, “Okay, fifty bucks on both sides.”

  Tony shook his head at Teddy, but Teddy wasn’t budging. Teddy pulled out his wallet and took a crisp fifty dollar bill and laid it on the table. Libby’s eyes got big when she scolded, “Put that away! Gambling is a quick way to get tossed out.” Her voice softened as she added, “I know you’re good for it. Put it back in your wallet.”

  Teddy did as instructed, but grabbed his cue. “I’ll break.”

  Libby didn’t even get a turn. Teddy ran the table, sinking all of his balls and the eight. Shit, we barely had enough gas to get to the bar. We didn’t have the fifty we now owed Teddy.

  Before Teddy had an opportunity to gloat, Libby offered, “Double or nothing.”

  Teddy shook his head in a condescending way, “Sweetheart, you aren’t going to win.”

  Tony walked over to where I stood, his voice low, “Hey, don’t let your friend get suckered in. Teddy’s really good. He sharks all the time. Tell her to cut her losses and walk away.”

  I looked at him incredulously. Was he serious? If these two were pulling the same stunt Libby and I were, then his warning would get him in all kinds of trouble with Teddy. Tony was Teddy’s decoy, but unlike me, he had a conscience about who they took money from. How many times had I seen Libby take some hard-working stiff for every penny he had? I’d never once given one a warning. Damn.

  I had to play naïve – that was my job, “Really?” I countered, “Libby’s pretty good.”

  “Not good enough. Tell her to walk away.” Tony looked me square in the eye as if embarrassed at how badly his partner would beat us on the pool table.

  I couldn’t believe what I had heard. There was no way I was letting on that we were trying to play them either, so I asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Teddy’s my brother. He’s a jerk and has a real gambling problem. When he sees dollar signs, he turns into a different guy. Just have her pay up and get out of here.”

  I didn’t share Tony’s warning with Libby, and I didn’t share with Tony that we didn’t have the money to cover the loss. Libby racked again, and Teddy did it a second time. Two shut out games in a row. I started to get worried, because in all our games, since we were juniors in high school, we’d never run across another team like ourselves. Libby and I now owed him a hundred dollars. Shit, this was so not how tonight was supposed to go down.

  Libby walked over to Teddy and flirtatiously put her hand on his chest, “Double or nothing again. You at least have to let me shoot.”

  “I can do this all night, Sweetheart. You sure you want to go for two hundred? You got that much on you?”

  “I’ve got it.” No she didn’t, but I kept my mouth shut, as she racked for a fifth game.

  After the third shutout I began sweating. Not like little beads of sweat, but the “Oh, my God, she was gambling with our rent money – that she didn’t have” kind of sweat. I tapped her on the shoulder, drawing her attention away from the table. I whispered low to keep Teddy and Tony from hearing. “That’s it, Libby. You can’t do it again. You don’t have four hundred dollars.”

  Confidently she smirked, “I don’t need it. Watch this.”

  She racked for the sixth game, Teddy had sunk four of the balls and looked like he was focusing as if his life depended on the fifth.

  Libby innocently stood behind the pocket he was aiming at and dropped her pool cue on the floor. The sound of the cue hitting the floor distracted him for a fraction of a second. In that fraction of time he saw her bend down to retrieve it, and I heard music to my ears. A good shot had a solid sound to it: Teddy had been distracted enough to miscue.

  Libby didn’t play with him. When she bent over the table, she ran it. She had won the game before Tony or I even had a chance to shoot.

  Teddy looked pissed. He threw his cue on the table and went to rack. Libby’s sing-songy voice echoed, “Oh my God, that’s four hundred dollars! Wow. I’m sorry about your shot, well, not really.” She looked at the clock, and we had just crossed Chris’s time limit.

  She squatted down next to Teddy who was slamming balls onto the table in the rack hard. Her voice was sweet, too sweet. “Sorry, maybe another night. We’ve got to go.”

  His cocky voice had turned to anger when he growled, “Double or nothing again.”

  Libby shook her head, “No can do. I only had four hundred. I couldn’t afford to pay you if we lost again, and you are really good.”

  That was a lie. If she had scraped all the change in the bottom of her purse together, she might have had fifty-two cents to go with the twelve dollars from her coffee can. Four hundred dollars would have been catastrophic if she’d lost.

  Teddy stood to his whole height glaring at Libby, “I don’t carry that kind of cash.”

  She pointed to a dark corner of the bar, “No problem. There’s an ATM right over there.”

  Teddy was fuming, his words angry and measured. “I’m not paying.”

  Tony walked up to Teddy casually and softly offered, “They won. Just pay and let’s go.”

  Teddy snarled, “No. I’m not paying this bitch.”

  Others around us were suddenly very interested in what was going on at our table. I wanted to blend into the wall. I’d seen scenes like this before, and normally they didn’t turn ugly because we had friends around, but tonight the only ones we knew in the whole place were Chris, who didn’t want us here to begin with, and Dave Brewer, who I hadn’t seen in almost two years, neither of whom would go to bat for us if we needed them.

  Tony stepped up to his brother, towering over him with his lanky frame. “You’ve told me a hundred times, a bet’s a bet. A man’s only as good as his word. Pay up or I will.”

  Was he for real? Teddy’s little brother was sticking up for us? He stood quite a bit taller than his older brother, but Tony was willow thin. If looks were any indication, Teddy, who surprisingly enough had seemed about as aggressive as a teddy bear earlier, could beat the crapola out of his brother without any effort at all. Tony didn’t back down, instead demanding, “Now.”

/>   Teddy shoved Tony hard into the pool table behind him. Tony righted himself after he had smashed into the pool table and narrowly missed the light hanging above it with his head. Teddy glared at Tony for a couple seconds as if silently challenging his brother to come at him. Tony didn’t. He stood against the pool table staring at his brother. Teddy shook his head as if he were going to say something to his brother, but reconsidered and walked toward the ATM in the far corner, mumbling an explicative under his breath.

  I flew over to Tony, “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. When he pays you, the two of you better get out of here. I’ve never seen him come after a lady, but he’s a bad loser.”

  “Will do.” He didn’t have to tell me twice. Chris was watching in earnest from behind the bar. I’m sure a small part of him was hoping Libby would lose, after her doing essentially the same thing to him. The larger portion of him was no doubt thrilled that she was going to make good on her offer to him for letting her shark.

  I felt like I owed Tony for sticking up for us, but I didn’t know how to say it without sounding disingenuous. “Hey, thanks.”

  “No problem.” He watched his brother returning from the ATM, “Here he comes. You two better go.”

  When Teddy returned with a pile of twenties, he tossed them at Libby: they all floated to the floor. She squatted down to gather them. Teddy crossed over into Slimeville when he spat, “Go ahead, Honey, you can stay down there if you are looking for some more cash.”

  Out of nowhere came a booming voice neither I nor anyone in a twenty foot radius expected. “Teddy, you sneaky son-of-a-bitch, I thought that was you. Just got beat by a girl? Careful, your rep may never recover.”

  I turned to see Dave towering over Teddy. Up close, Dave looked even more different than when I had last seen him. When he was across the room from us, I’d noticed his shirt was tight, but up close I could see his chest stretched every stitch of fabric on it, rivaling any body builder I’d seen.