Once the game got underway, Cali focused on the cards and players, and the buzz of the room faded into the background. She could see it all, the pale blue deception swirling around every player, augmented by fuscia excitement or tangerine anxiety impossible to mask with blank stares or dark lenses. It was almost too easy.
As the game progressed, she helped Calvin a little extra whenever she could, occasionally catching the eyes of some of the other players to send them little shots of confidence when Calvin had a good hand– just enough to prompt them to bet recklessly. When Calvin was bluffing, she sent a cold shiver of fear and apprehension towards any gambler unlucky enough to glance up into her watchful eyes.
One player noticed Calvin’s frequent glances over to Caledonia, and started to scrutinize her suspiciously. “That your girl over there?” he asked.
“Uh huh. She’s my good luck charm,” he replied, smiling her way.
“I can see that,” the man replied with a glance towards the growing stacks of chips in front of Calvin. Caledonia could see the rising irritation of the other players, and after a few more hands she signaled to Calvin that it was time to stop.
Calvin draped his arm around her as they stood in line to cash out the chips, nuzzling her ear. “I knew this would work. I knew you could do it,” he whispered.
“They were starting to get angry,” she warned him.
“Of course they were,” he laughed, “I was cleaning them out!” When she didn’t reply, he looked closely at her, “What’s wrong?”
“It doesn’t feel right.” She looked around the room apprehensively. “It’s not fair.”
He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “Listen Cali, there’s not one person at that table that wouldn’t happily have taken every dime we have. They don’t have to be here… They’re free to leave whenever they please.”
“I suppose,” she sighed.
He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “The sooner we make some real money, the sooner we can quit. I think we should buy into a tournament tomorrow.”
~
The next day he woke her up with more kisses, and after a long lazy morning they got up and dressed, sorting through their nicest new clothes. Caledonia put on a ruffled gauzy dress and stood in front of the mirror, brushing out her long hair.
Calvin sat at the edge of the bed watching her, thinking that she could be a fairy princess or a girl from a dream. She was almost too pretty when she dressed up, looking like some kind of rich girl that wouldn’t give a guy like him the time of day.
When their eyes met in the mirror, she smiled.
“Ready?” he asked. She could see the excitement and anticipation pouring out of him.
She nodded, “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
They went back to the same small poker room, just in time to sign in. In the tournament, each person started with the same amount of chips, and then dropped out one by one as they ran through their pile. The last few gamblers would end up with progressively bigger payouts, until the final player standing took home the biggest pot.
Calvin took a seat at one of the tables while Caledonia took stock of the other players in the room. They were mostly men, but the women sprinkled amongst them were clearly the fiercest of competitors. She tried to imagine how it would be if she was the one playing and smiled wryly. It wouldn’t be sporting at all; the idea offended her natural sense of justice.
Besides, she thought, running her fingers up and down the scar on her forearm, she simply didn’t belong here. She yearned for the quiet of the forest, the honest simplicity of animal minds, and the fresh clean air of her country home. She studied Calvin, struck by his eager anticipation.
The corners of her mouth drooped in a frown when she realized that the hum of activity that set her teeth on edge made him feel right at home. Maybe being raised in a house of chaos would make it impossible for him to live a quiet life in the country. Maybe it would be unfair to even consider asking him.
The cards were dealt, and she had no more time to ponder her revelation. She focused intently on making Calvin win as many hands as possible. She signaled for him to raise, check or call, and he grinned with satisfaction as he won hand after hand. She was so engrossed in the game that she didn’t notice the man that took a spot on the rail alongside her.
“Interested in cards?”
She looked up, startled to see a handsome young man wearing an expensive looking suit. He was staring at her with unabashed curiosity.
“Yes. Yes, I am.” She wondered why he wanted to know.
“Wow,” he said, squinting down at her. “Are those contacts?”
“Are what contacts?” she asked.
“You have got some amazing eyes.”
“Uhm… Thank you,” she nodded, turning her attention back to the game.
“What’s your name?” he persisted.
“Cal,” she replied automatically, focusing on the card players. He’d nearly made her miss transmitting the proper move, and when she looked back at the game she was shocked by the crimson hostility Calvin was spewing in her direction. She signaled for him to check, but he ignored her and folded, his eyes glued with hot anger on the man standing next to her. She could see that he wanted to fight.
Alarmed, she looked back to find she had captured the stranger’s full attention. “I’m Greg,” he said, smiling and offering his hand. She reached out to shake it automatically, seeing another molten hot cloud of anger erupt from Calvin out of the corner of her eye. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“No thank you,” she said nervously.
She looked back to Calvin, puzzled by his intense reaction. He’d lost all focus on the game, and was staring intently at Greg. This time his jealousy was clear, and in her opinion, the violence of it was completely out of bounds.
“Excuse me,” Caledonia told her admirer politely, glaring over at Calvin. He had to get his head back into the game or they would lose all of their buy-in money.
“Do you play?” Greg pressed on, completely fascinated by her.
Now Calvin sat glowering at them with his fists clenched. He looked like he was poised to spring out of his seat, forfeiting their stake in the game.
She heard the dealer address Calvin, “Excuse me sir! The action’s on you.”
Cali thought fast, turning to meet her admirer’s eyes. She sent a blast of foul yellow disgust directly into them. He was confused for an instant, and then stepped back like he’d just smelled something bad. He finally turned blindly to beat a hasty retreat. Caledonia shook her head at Calvin, her eyes flaring with annoyance. His anger subsided, turning to embarrassed shame, and he sat back, chastened, to finish the game. Caledonia guided him to an easy victory in the tournament, but there were no more smiles between them.
When the game finally wrapped up he stood to shake the hands of the vanquished, his eyes straying over to Caledonia, who stood with her arms crossed. He approached her sheepishly, “We did it… I mean, you did it.”
“Calvin! You could have been kicked out of the game!” she scolded him, still annoyed with him for overreacting.
“When I saw that guy hanging all over you I just… I dunno…”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Nobody was hanging all over me. He was just being friendly.”
Thinking about it made him angry all over again, “He was hitting on you!”
Her eyes flashed angrily at his, thinking of all the times she’d sucked up her jealousy when she’d seen girls flirting with him. “So what! Don’t you trust me?”
He was surprised by her reaction, “Of course I do!” He was confused, uncertain of what she wanted him to say. “Just wait here… I’ll go collect the money.” Cal stood in line, thinking about what had just happened. He’d never had to deal with jealousy before, because he’d never been emotionally involved before.
Caledonia had come along and gotten so far under his skin that she left a mark far more permanent than any ink could. He was as h
elpless and insecure as a man could possibly be.
By the time he returned they’d both cooled down.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” he searched her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded curtly, “I can see.”
A man in a tailored suit approached them with confidence, his footsteps signaling his intention. This time, the man was interested in Calvin. “Jarod? Jarod Allen?”
Calvin looked startled, and a little jolt of fear straightened him up, “Yeah… Uhm, Yes.”
“Nice playing,” the man smiled. He pulled out a business card and handed it to Calvin, explaining that he worked for the biggest hotel on the strip. “We host an invitation-only tourney… Are you interested?”
Calvin looked down at the card. “Sure. What’s the buy-in?”
Caledonia flinched upon hearing the amount, catching the man’s attention. He held out his hand. “And you are?”
“She’s with me,” Calvin interjected.
The man smiled benignly. “Where are you two staying?”
“Why?” asked Calvin, suddenly suspicious.
“A talented player like you deserves first class accommodations… I think your friend here might appreciate an upgrade.” He smiled knowingly at Caledonia, looking back to Calvin. “If you decide to enter our tournament, we’d like to comp you one of our finest suites… Just present this card at check-in tomorrow morning… They’ll reserve a seat in the game for you.”
The two Cals stood silently, watching him walk away. Calvin grinned down at the card in his hand. “Whoa! Welcome to the big leagues.”
“I don’t know if I liked him,” Caledonia said in a low voice. “Why would he ask us?”
Calvin shrugged, “He probably just saw us win some money, and I’m sure he needs to fill up the seats. I bet he thinks he picked a sucker who’ll get knocked out in the first few rounds.”
“He acted like he was doing you a favor.” Caledonia was worried, “Calvin– That game… It’s going to cost everything we have.”
Calvin was bursting with confidence, fresh from their latest victory. “Yeah, but if we can win this one– or even just make it to the finals, we’ll have enough money to quit playing.” They walked back to their shabby room in the cool evening air, and Calvin speculated on the hotel. “I wonder what those suites are like… I bet it’s really nice. You deserve a nicer place. You know what Sunday is…”
She knew. It was the day she’d been waiting for since her parent’s accident had so cruelly snatched her away from the only home she’d ever known.
Eighteen always seemed like such a subjective number to her, an arbitrary line to draw, but it was to be her day of liberation. It was the day upon which she would finally, legally belong to herself, and her beloved land would legally belong to her.
“So what do you want for your birthday?”
She didn’t hesitate. “I want to go home.”
“Alright,” he nodded. “After the tournament… We can leave town right away if we win.”
“When we win,” she said, realizing that everything hinged on her performance. “But you have to stop acting like an idiot.”
Calvin reached out to take her hand, twining their fingers together and squeezing. “Are you still mad at me?”
She sighed, her throbbing temples making her irritable. “I just don’t see why you had to get so upset… I mean, you like me, so why should it make you so angry to see other people like me? It’s not like anything is going to happen.”
Calvin winced, searching for the words to explain. “When I see other guys check you out it makes me crazy… I can’t help it– I guess it just… I dunno… I guess it sort of scares me.”
“Scares you?”
He stopped suddenly, taking her in his arms. He knew there was no point in lying, and he struggled to try and explain. His chest tightened and he felt like he couldn’t breathe for a moment, confessing in a hoarse whisper, “I’m afraid you’re gonna change your mind. I’m afraid you’re gonna decide you want someone else… someone better.”
Her heart softened, and she looked up to face him, her eyes glittering in the reflected lights. “There is no one better.” She stretched up to kiss him softly, stroking the back of his neck. He made a little involuntary sound, a cross between a whimper and a sigh, and pulled her tight against him.
His breath grew regular, and they both relaxed as their kiss lingered. She melted into him, and they calmed each other down like only they knew how.
A pair of girls passed them on the sidewalk, giggling to each other. “Get a room!” one of them called back to them over her shoulder.
Calvin pulled away, smoothing a stray curl back from Cali’s cheek with a look of pure love on his face. “My thoughts exactly.”
~
Chapter Seven
BLACKMAIL
~
Layla looked across the desk, her eyes boring into the red face of the man who sat opposite her. Spread out in front of him were a series of pictures– shocking images she did her level best to avoid looking at.
Max wasn’t interested in going after anything as complex as trading fraud; he didn’t understand the vagaries of banking, but what he did know was human nature, and he was ruthless enough to exploit it mercilessly.
His favorite method of blackmail was to send a girl to target a wealthy man, luring him back to the estate where he had a “party room” rigged with cameras and microphones. After recording every last intimate detail of their encounters, he’d send e-mails and texts of the raunchiest images, threatening to post everything online if they wouldn’t meet with him.
Once they gained entrance to the offices of the rich and powerful they found men already inclined to negotiate, men with families and reputations to uphold. The tactic made Layla’s job easier, because they were already afraid by the time she got to them. All she had to do was amplify their emotions to get the best possible return on what Max called his “investment”.
“I didn’t get that last series… Can you repeat the account number?” Michael asked from his seat alongside Layla. His fingers were flying on the keyboard of his laptop as he took dictation while his sister mined another pathetic man for information.
“But- but… That’s my daughter’s college fund,” the man said, sweat beading on his upper lip. He looked up at Max with pleading eyes.
Max cleared his throat from his position by the door. He always came along, just in case a particularly stubborn victim could resist Layla’s laser-like focus. Layla could see that the big oaf relished inflicting pain just a little too much, and it made her manipulations seem almost merciful in comparison.
She sighed. “Mister Bransford, imagine what your daughter would think if she saw these pictures.” Her practiced eyes bored into his, sending him a gut wrenching blast of dread and fear. “Not to mention Mrs. Bransford… Now please give us the account password and we’ll be on our way.”
He finally started to speak, his hands trembling. When it was all over Layla rose from her seat, not sure if she was more disgusted with Max or herself. Mr. Bransford and his perversions came in a close third. She turned to leave the room, and if the big man at the door had the courage to look directly into her eyes he would have received the full brunt of her anger and despair.
She walked out to the parking lot, listening to Max praise her brother, both of them cracking jokes about the lewd photos they’d left behind. “I held back a few of the best ones,” Max laughed, climbing into their waiting car. “I think we’ll be back to pay him another visit one of these days.”
“Cheer up Layla, he was just another whoremonger like all the rest of ‘em,” Michael told her as they drove away.
She cast him a scathing glare. “And what does that make you?”
Michael had no problem spending time with the same girls that Max used to lure the rich and powerful into compromising positions. Layla knew that Max was behind their sudden interest in her brother, but Michael didn’t care. He was a fool
for a giggling girl with bouncing boobs and batting eyelashes.
Between witnessing the foibles of the men they blackmailed, and watching an assortment of bimbos wrap Michael around their fingers, Layla’s opinion of men in general was not a good one.
She turned to look out of the tinted windows for the rest of the drive home, watching a couple on a motorcycle fly past them. She recalled an image of Cali, speeding away on the back of her boyfriend’s bike, her hair billowing behind her like a golden flag of freedom. Caledonia had spoken glowingly of her boyfriend, and the image of Calvin as the ideal man loomed large in Layla’s psyche.
They pulled up to the estate, waiting for the driver to punch in the security code. Michael reached over to pat her on the arm. “Come on Layla… Don’t be upset. Let’s do something fun today. Hey– Julie wants me to take her shopping today… Why don’t you come with us? We could all go out to eat after.”
Layla didn’t much care for Michael’s latest girlfriend, but she could see that he was contrite, and at least he was making an effort to be kind. “Okay.”
“Can I take the Mercedes?” Michael asked Max.
Max adjusted the rear-view mirror so that he could see Layla. “Sure kid… Just keep an eye on your sister, alright? Show her a good time.”
~
The three of them drove to an upscale shopping district, parking and walking along the boulevard. Layla admired the extravagant window displays, inspecting the expensive and beautiful things arrayed on mannequins that mocked her with their pleasant faces. Julie took Layla’s arm and dragged her into a high-end clothing store, asking for her advice with an insincere smile.
Layla gazed through the window to see Michael sitting outside, fiddling with his phone. A couple of teenagers on the next bench over caught her attention, and she watched them with fascination. The boy reached over tentatively, taking the girl’s hand in his. She smiled shyly at him and his colors expanded. Layla stood transfixed, a lump forming in her throat as she watched their sweet emotions rise and blend.
Mackenzie Legacy, The Page 5
