He cleared his throat and looked toward the center table, the one that had four men and one woman sitting there. It was the man on the end with the unruly brown hair that caught my attention. He was still in decent shape, but it was obvious he hadn’t been trying all that recently. I’d known this man for a few years. He was a regular.
He must have felt our eyes on him because he looked up. I just stared, knowing he’d get the hint. Which he did. He apprehensively stood up and walked over. I leaned against the bar, resting my right arm on the top and folded my hands together.
“Hi-yah, Dillan. How are you?”
“Doing good. But I’ll be even better once you pay me back.”
Randy lifted a hand and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I’m working on it, I swear.”
“Ya huh. You’ve given me that line before.” I turned my head to look at Keith, keeping my relaxed pose against the bar. “How much are we up to this time?”
He made a show of studying the tablet in his hands, which I knew wasn’t needed. Keith was always prepared and knew what I would need. “25, sir.”
I whistled and turned back to Randy. “You owe me 25,000, and yet you have the money to enter the special tournament.”
Randy shot a look over his shoulder, toward the table he had just come from, before lowering his voice and leaning closer. “Look, we both know I can beat these guys in my sleep. I can win back all of your money tonight. Both the original 12.5 and the interest.”
I didn’t say anything. I just leveled him with a look. I’d heard all of this from him before. Randy was a good poker player. He just had a habit of getting a little over-excited and didn’t know when to stop. He usually paid back his debts before the 50% interest stacked up so high. I didn’t know why this time was different.
“You have the 5 grand to enter?”
His head moved like a bobblehead. “Yes, sir. I can use that and get the rest back for you. Tonight. I swear.”
“And if you don’t? What then? You’ll still be collecting interest. That 5 would at least take you down some.”
Now he looked more like a fish, with the way his mouth opened and closed. Hell, even his forehead was sweating enough that he could have just stepped out of the water.
Keith leaned on the bar. I turned just enough to give him permission to speak. I turned more when I saw the gleam in his eyes. My friend had an idea.
“Carlos got sick. He couldn’t make it out tonight.”
I tilted my head to the side, taking in his meaning, and thinking about it.
“Wh…who’s Carlos?” Randy stuttered.
I tilted my head the other way, studying Randy more in-depth this time. “Didn’t you once say that you wrestled in college?”
He licked his lips and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. “Y… yah. I, uh, won state in high school and got a scholarship to UCLA. Why?”
