Dead Man's Hand (9 page)

I bit my lip on the
initial response.  Last time I checked my doctor told me that it was never
a good idea to antagonize a man like Dempsey, something about it proving
terminal.  So instead I chose my words carefully, “With your reputation, I
see that as a very good plan.”

“If you didn’t have to
worry about my reputation, where would that put us?”

“What do you mean
sir?”  I asked, trying to keep my tone very formal and respectful.

“Would you still keep
your comments to yourself?”

“I do try to be careful
when it comes to people’s families.  Simply because they’re family. 
And you never know how someone will react when family gets involved.”

With another nod Dempsey
seemed to approve of my response, or at least concur with his earlier measure
of me.  “Just between you and me Marcus,” Dempsey whispered to me, as he
leaned in closer.  “My niece already seems to be very infatuated with
you.”

“What do you mean? 
She couldn’t possibly be interested in me in that way.”  I responded as
soon as I registered his comment.  “I’m sure I would have noticed that.”

“No you wouldn’t.” 
Dempsey said with a shake of his head.  “Trust me, men never see the signs
that women shove into our faces.  Which is entirely fair since they can’t
seem to understand ours.”  Then the man cracked a smile, a very amused
smile.

That smile was so eerie
that I let my eyes catch his and before I could stop myself I asked, “So what makes
you think that she is infatuated with me?”

Resting his elbows on the
table, Dempsey leaned forward slightly. “The only reason you don’t think that
is because you don’t know her.  The biggest challenge most men face with
her is keeping her in one spot for any length of time. And remember the only
reason my niece isn’t her right now is because I scared her off, not you. 
Though you’ve come close a couple of times from what I’ve heard.”

 Leaning back into
his chair he kept his eyes on me but was no longer weighing me.  Instead
he seemed to relax.  But that just made me even more confused. 
“There is a reason I came over when I did.  I still have other people to
meet, but I was told that my niece had been sitting with someone for almost two
hours and he was about to blow it.”

Stunned by what Dempsey
was saying I took a moment to order my thoughts. Which was rather hard since he
had scattered most of them out of my reach.  “So you came over here to
save me from myself?”

“No, I didn’t say that,
what I said was I wanted to see the man who was skating on thin ice. 
Remember I’m not doing you any favors sitting here chatting with you.  Now
with that being said my niece is very picky with who she is willing to spend
her time.”  Dempsey turned around to face one of his attendants and once
he had the man’s attention he snapped his fingers and pointed to the drink
sitting on the table in front of me.  The attendant took off to comply
with Dempsey’s wordless command.  “Despite her not liking what I do for a
living, as you said, she’s family and I want what’s best for her, whatever that
may be.”

Leveling his grey eyes at
me I could see the change from a benevolent uncle to those of the cold blooded
murderer I knew him to be from all the stories.  “But just be careful not
to cross me here or anywhere.  If you ever manage to accomplish that, then
there is no
hole
small enough for you to hide
in.  My wrath will find you no matter how hard you try.  Do you
understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good.”  The sheer
terror inducing look vanished in an instant, once more leaving me to stare into
the face of a kindly uncle.  At that moment the attendant returned with
Dempsey’s drink, placed it on the table, and quickly backed up, waiting for
further instructions.  Dempsey plucked it up and tasted the drink. 
“Ah, Simon is working his magic again I see.”

“I lucked out
in finding him.”  I said without thought.

But Dempsey
was already taking another sip of the martini, and when he finished he nodded
his agreement.  “You know, so did
I.
”  I
couldn’t help but laugh and he quickly joined me.

Somehow I had
managed to get him to laugh, which was a good thing, so why did I ever try to
threaten that?  As I looked down into my drink I felt the question
building up. Before I could stop myself I heard the words fly out of my
mouth.  “If you don’t mind me asking, it’s plain to me that Bella doesn’t
care for you all that much, so how did she manage to collect the entrance
fee?”  When I looked back up I could see those two emotionless eyes were
smoldering with something.  In an effort to calm him I immediately
clarified my question.  “Your reputation doesn’t… you’re not exactly known
to give breaks even to family.”

Dempsey must
have known what I was trying to get at, at least the smoldering in his eyes
began to dim ever so slightly.  “My little niece has become quite the
skilled gambler.  And as you said, she is a very smart woman.  She
takes advantage of all of her resources, and that includes her looks.  Now
don’t get me wrong she isn’t a vain woman and she isn’t fully aware of the
affect she has on others.  Even so, she somehow manages to take complete
advantage of it.”  Lifting his glass off the table Dempsey looked it over
before continuing, “She won my tournament last year, which is how she was able to
be here today. But as far as how she earned the entrance fee for last year’s
tournament…” Shrugging his eyes softened a little more as he took another sip
of the martini in his hand.  “I don’t know how she managed to earn that
fee.  Though she did have to learn those card skills somewhere.”

Looking
briefly around the room he caught sight of Bella standing at the bar with two
glasses and a tapping foot.  “Well I’m afraid I need to leave before Bella
lumps you in with me and if that happens, she’ll never come back.  Best of
luck to you Marcus.”  Dempsey offered me his hand and I took it and held
it as firmly as I could, only to be surprised at how hard the other man’s grip
was.  When the handshake was finished he silently stood up and retreated
back into the crowd.

Moments
after Dempsey was absorbed back into the crowd a slightly annoyed Bella arrived
with both of our drinks. 
“You two seemed
awfully chummy.”  She said as she placed my new glass next to my empty one
as she sat back down in her chair.  She fixed me with an inquisitive stare
and allowed a slight silence to build before asking, “What were you two talking
about?”

The irony of the question forced a fit of laughter out of my throat,
which of course only aggravated her more, it was a very vicious cycle.  I
was barely able to keep her seated and calm with a placating hand
gesture.  She was awfully skittish about her uncle.  True he never
outright told me that I had his blessing, but that was what he had implied, at
least I thought that was what he implied.  But that would probably not go
over so well.  “Honestly he was shocked that I managed to keep you in one
spot for so long.”

“What?!” she exclaimed.  At first I thought there was curiosity
in her voice, but then I caught sight of her eyes.  What was that look in
her eyes, it looked like equal parts curiosity and anger, or could that be
indignation?  Either way it really didn’t matter.  Nope, all that
mattered was she didn’t like her uncle, though apparently not strongly enough
to keep her away from his tournament.

With a shrug of my shoulders and the strongest voice I could
muster I explained.  “Apparently you’re a little bit of a
wallflower.”  And as soon as she heard the words she clamped her mouth
shut and her cheeks colored ever so slightly, but with her fair complexion she
may as well have been beet red.  “So I guess that’s a pretty fair way to
describe your behavior.”  I paused for a moment before I hastily added, “Don’t
shoot the messenger though, those were your uncle’s words, not mine.”

I quickly found out that she had mastered the same look of
intimidation that her uncle had patented.  For a brief moment I idly
wondered if she had to pay him a royalty for using that look.  But before
I could make a joke of it she spoke to me in that same stern and measured
whisper.  “Do not mention that relation to me, ever again.”  She kept
those fearsome eyes upon me and without changing her fearsome tone she went
on.  “Do you understand?!”

I simply swallowed. This apparently sweet and gentle woman just
flipped a switch and had become a clone of her uncle.  She had definitely
inherited the family’s intimidating streak.  It took me a moment to work
some saliva back into my mouth.  Strangely enough, her use of that streak
was simply more terrifying than her uncle’s.  I mean you expected it with
Dempsey, but I never would have thought Bella could pull it off.  When I
was finally able to muster any kind of response it was a simple one.
 “Sure no problem Bella.  But…”

 “I just cannot stand the man,”

“But he’s your…but he is what he is.”

With a heavy sigh she acknowledged the relation.  “Yes, he is
and that is why I wish he would simply leave me alone.”

There are always going to be people you will never understand, and
even when you get a handle on them they will always say something that makes no
sense.  It is one of the truths of the world.  I could tell it was
going to be a bad idea but I just had to know, so I took a deep breath and asked
the question.  “You might, berate me for asking this but I’m going to risk
it.  If you can’t stand him…”

“Why do I come to his tournament?”  Bella finished for me.

“You would be able to accomplish your goal of avoiding him, with
greater success that way.”

Slumping down in her chair Bella sighed as she answered.  “I
don’t like my uncle or father, I won’t deny that.  But they’re also my
only family and you…”

“Can’t choose your family.”  I finished the cliché for her, I
could tell she was tired of using that one to explain herself.

“No, you can’t.”  She agreed solemnly.

“But that’s not the real reason you tolerate them, is it?” 
Bella simply sat there like a statue.  She was so unwilling to say
anything positive about her uncle that she couldn’t explain herself anymore, so
I offered my guess.  “He’s overprotective of you, that’s why you choose to
deal with them at all, isn’t it?”

It was small but I was able to see the slight squirm and just like
that I knew that I was on the right track.  But it was equally obvious
that she was extremely uncomfortable with the whole topic.  A point she
quickly confirmed.  “Yes both he and my father are overly protective of
me.”  She lifted her glass to her mouth and swallowed the entire martini,
like it would sooth her throat.  “Their attention does make me feel
special, but it comes at a terrible price.”

After a few moments of careful thought I spoke up, “Bella you
could have that feeling anytime you want.  All you have to do is just go
out on few dates.  I can’t think of any reason why a man wouldn’t lavish
his attention on you.  Even if he were blind, once you started speaking,
well it would be enough.”

Now I expected some kind of reaction out of her, but shock was not
on the short list until I remembered Dempsey’s words.  She isn’t fully
aware of the affect she has on others
. 
Was
her uncle right about her after all?  No!  How
could she not know how men looked at her?  Or could that attitude just be
a mask that she has created for herself?  But how could Dempsey be so
blind that he actually would fall for that kind of mask?  And what would
possibly motivate her to create that kind of persona?  Wait a second, was
it possible that she believed it was her relationship to Dempsey that affected
the people in her life and not her looks?

The shocked look in her eyes told me nothing one way or the
other.  But a moment later she tried to shake off my comment with a
scoffing laugh. “No, you’re generous but men don’t show me any genuine kindness
based on my merits.  The only reason people are nice to me is because of
my family, well my father or my uncle to be precise.”  As the words fled
from her mouth a single tear streamed down her check.

And that was when her attitude clicked.  She knew how she
looked, but she was so blinded by her family that she just couldn’t trust
it.  And honestly, I couldn’t blame her for that, an uncle like hers might
make me just as blind.  With a slight sigh that I hoped she didn’t catch,
I tried to rebut her train of thought.  “Bella, has my attitude towards
you changed since I found out who your uncle is?”  She brought her eyes
back up to mine and we sat in silence for a while, just studying each other.

Her face went from the depths of apparent sadness to the murky
heights of confusion so fast that had I blinked I would have missed the
transition.  “Are you telling me you seriously didn’t know about that
relation prior to him telling you?”

She really was blinded by her uncle.  No wonder she was
described as a wallflower, she had no way of knowing who was genuinely friendly
and who might be trying to use her.  “Yes I am, but that’s not all I’m
trying to tell you.  I’m telling you that who your uncle is simply doesn’t
matter to me.  You’re a good person and I have honestly enjoyed talking
with you.  Whatever he’s done, and by the stories I’ve heard it’s a lot,
it doesn’t need to define you.  Your words and actions do that.  So
how do you want to be defined?”

She responded at my attempt to cheer her up with a smile, “I like
that, though you sound a bit like a fortune cookie.

“The words may sound a bit cliché, but they still hold true. We
are not the sum of our parents.  Whatever they did, they did.  It’s
their past.  Now we can certainly learn from them, and it’s usually a good
idea, but those actions ultimately hold no sway over our lives.”

She thought about it for all of two seconds, and I thought she
seemed to be intrigued by what I was saying.  But I could tell the
intrigue held little sway over her as soon as that slight glimmer in her eye
disappeared.  “Unfortunately your argument might hold more sway if those
two weren’t still around trying to walk in my footsteps.”

“You could outrace them, you know.  They don’t have to
influence your life.”

As she offered me one of her warmer smiles she scooted her chair
closer to mine and voiced what was going through her mind.  “You’re a good
one.  A little bit naive but a good one.”  Once her chair was next to
mine she laid her head on my shoulder and whispered the remainder of her
thought.  “There is no running from this family, you can only survive and,
with any luck, find someone good enough to stand with you, even if only for a
short time.”

Pleasantly surprised by both her words and her head laying on my
shoulder I took a chance and draped my arm around her and gave her a comforting
squeeze.  “You mentioned that you have to pay a price, when you take their
affection.”  I felt her soundless reply, and knowing this was a sensitive
topic I whispered my question into her ear.  “If you don’t mind me asking,
what’s the price?”

She kept her head on my shoulder as she softly answered. 
“For that fleeting moment of happiness, I come out feeling dirty.  I’m
sure I would feel the same way if I swam through a sewage drain.  And the
saddest part is that those moments of happiness grow shorter each time, and it
won’t be long before what is supposed to be a moment of happiness will be
nothing instead.”

“It can’t be as bad as that.”

Without moving her head she replied in the same soft voice, “Yes
it can.”

With another gentle squeeze I asked one more question.  “If
you can’t stand you uncle or your father for that matter, why do you even
come?”

“The money’s good.”  She answered immediately with an ample
amount of forced cheer.  It looked as if that would be all she would say,
but after a few moments she pressed on.  “But that’s not all of it.” 
I had known that money would not be the real answer, hopefully she was willing
to share it with me after all.  “I know my uncle has some of his own men
playing in this thing.  It’s never more than a few but the ones who play,
they’re decent players.  Someone has to keep my uncle from a bigger
payday, and if I can do it, then I will.”

I was impressed with her attitude.  Here she was, terrified,
well that may be a little strong.  She had no love for her own flesh and
blood, and in fact she was acting against them.  I idly wondered what
Dempsey would do if he ever realized what his niece’s intentions were. 
She was a good person even if she couldn’t or wouldn’t see past her family to
believe it herself.  But something had changed in her demeanor, the forced
joviality had vanished to be replaced by an emotionless voice that once again
reminded me of her uncle.  “I’ll fight tooth and nail to reach the final
table so I can deny them as much money as I can.”

With a grin, she looked up at me and spoke in a voice that was
slowly taking on its natural tone.  “I made it there last year and so help
me, I’ll do it again.”

Meeting her eyes, I was intrigued by her desire to just reach the
final table. “What’s the big deal about reaching the final table?”

She was obviously getting very comfortable with me because she
simply answered the question, “As long as you reach the final table, at minimum,
you get your entrance fee back.”  She must have seen my confusion because
she eagerly enlightened me. “This is not a winner take all tournament,
Marcus.  Everyone who reaches the final table will take money home. 
And while tenth place will only return your entrance fee, the money grows from
there.”  My surprise was clearly evident as she sighed and asked, with the
slightest tinge of laughter ringing in her voice, “You thought this was a
winner take all tournament, didn’t you.”

“Well not really, I knew that Dempsey took a portion of the
entrance…”  And then I caught sight of her eyes and I knew I started to
say something incredibly stupid. I wanted to grumble but I swallowed the random
thoughts and answered her question.  “Yes, I thought this was a winner
take all tournament, less Dempsey’s hefty share.”

She smiled in satisfaction at successfully reading me, she was
very good at reading people, or was it just me?  I shook that thought from
my mind and noticed that she had been unable to keep herself from laughing.
 But, once she saw me notice she tried to appease my bruised ego. 
“That was how my uncle originally ran these tournaments.”

“It was? Then what changed?”  I asked when she paused to take
a breath.

“When the professionals found out they didn’t come back the next
year.  As I’m sure you can imagine they wanted to walk out with something
as long as they placed high enough.  As my uncle quickly found out, he
needed the pros more than they needed his tournament, so he eventually relented
a bit.  It took a couple of years to reclaim the pros who had fled but, in
time, they caught wind of the change and returned.”

“I take it
your father is very tight with your uncle.” Fortunately, I was watching her so
I saw the slight nod that she offered in return.  And since she was
speaking about her uncle I decided it would be safe to ask about her
father.  “So I know what your uncle does here.  Couple that with the
fact that you painted him with your uncle, I’m just a little curious, what does
your father do for your uncle at this tournament?”