Chapter 31
Sebastian
The Deal
The poker table.
“Sit down, Shaw.” Fred stared me down from across the table, his friends snickering and hiding grins behind their cards. “Let’s play a game.”
Steeling my nerves, I pulled the chair out and took my seat at the table. A server in a tuxedo came to take my drink order.
“Whiskey on ice, please,” I told him.
“Whiskey on ice.” Fred whistled. “I’ll take one of those too, Tobin.”
I cleared my throat and reached forward, grabbing a cigar from the mahogany box in the center, next to the pot of chips. I glanced around the circle, taking in all my opponents. I recognized most of them because they worked in film.
Ben Willis, Seth Brundle, Jack Sawyer. All bastards. There were two men I didn’t recognize but was introduced to quickly. I nodded and mumbled hello to them.
“Frank Cotton, legal,” the man beside me with hair plugs said, offering me a lighter.
“Thanks, and I don’t think we’ve ever met,” I said to the man whose hair was styled with a giant wave and a smile too fake and too large.
“Christian Hughes, News Channel 9.”
I put the lit cigar in my mouth and tried to focus on my breathing. I could not let them see how fucking nervous I was.
“Now!” Frederick clapped his hands. “Let’s get back to the game. Sebastian, what’s your buy-in?”
“What’s the minimum for the table?” I asked, not looking him in the eye.
The table chuckled. Fred snickered. “Five, but each game is one.”
Five thousand dollars? I’d been to these before, and each table was different, but they were never this high.
I usually stuck to the lower tables because I was a shit poker player.
I looked up and saw the men staring at me, daring me to object.
I pulled the cigar from my mouth, licked my lips, and rolled my eyes.
“Give me twenty.”
Twenty thousand was no drop in the bucket for me.
I lived comfortably, and with each film I made, I was paid more than the last. Once I got paid for Simon Says Six: Six Six, twenty thousand would be nothing.
There were murmurs around the table as Fred smirked and counted the chips, sliding them over.
“Good luck, kid.”
I’d need it. I hardly remembered the rules. But I hadn’t really been invited to play cards. I was here for them to see what I knew. And I was here to do the same. Tobin brought us our drinks, and Fred grabbed the deck to shuffle and deal.
Every few seconds, I fought the urge to flick my gaze back to where Evie sat on the other side of the room. I hadn’t wanted her to come, but she’d insisted. She didn’t realize what she’d done by coming, and I couldn’t tell her otherwise.
“So, who’s the hottie?” Brundle, a special effects guy, asked. “Your sister?” He raised his eyebrows in a hopeful way.
One by one, everyone put their chips in. I tossed chips totaling one thousand into the pile. Fred then dealt us our hands.
“No. She’s my girlfriend.” I shot him a glare as I lifted my cards. Seven of diamonds and two of spades.
Fuck. These cards were bad. I stretched my neck to see the three cards in front of Fred. I was going to lose real fucking quick.
I folded the first round, watching as Ben Willis, a boat handler for one of the studios, took the pot. We went again. This time I got the three of hearts and the eight of diamonds.
“You look like you’re starting to sweat over there, Shaw,” Fred mocked as he flipped over his three cards. I checked, and the game continued—with me losing.
“I’m a little rusty,” I admitted. “It’s not often I have free time to sit and relax with people like yourselves.”
“Yes, you are a busy guy, aren’t you?” he muttered, his lip curling in the beginnings of a snarl.
“You’re working on the newest Simon Says, aren’t you?” Christian asked.
I glanced over at the blond-haired, blue-eyed man. I remembered him. We were often up for similar roles, but I always managed to land them over him. Seeing as he’d landed a gig on the news, he must have given up on stardom. He was playing nice now, but I knew just how much of a bitter ass he was.
“Six Six Six,” I responded. “They’re paying me very well for it.”
“Good. That means you can stay here all night,” Fred quipped, and the table laughed. “Although if you run out of cash, we can make arrangements for other forms of payment.”
The circle quieted as they looked at me. I chewed the inside of my cheek in annoyance. Word had spread about me, it seemed.
I shrugged and knocked the cherry off my cigar into an ashtray. “That’s when the real fun starts, doesn’t it? You’d been playing for a while before I got here—is this money just to humor me?”
A standoff was happening between Fred and me. I stared at him across the table, waiting for him to expose the real thing they gambled with. Everyone knew what these games were. Fred Castle didn’t play for money. He played for information.
“Fair enough. You want to bet something else? What do you have? Any suggestions for what Sebastian Shaw could offer the table?” Fred sat back, putting his hands behind his head.
“What about a recommendation?” Christian leaned in. “I know you’re friends with Susan McAlester. She’s starting auditions for her next shark movie. Can you get me an audition?”
I shrugged. That was easy. “Sure, next game.”
I lost the second round of poker, and the real game began with the third.
I wagered a call to my friend, and everyone else made similar bets, along with a few who just offered money.
I lost for the third time. But then, as the familiarity of the game came back to me, I had a stroke of good luck.
I’d also stopped drinking after my first glass, while the others kept pounding their alcohol and offering each other various unmarked pills.
Everyone was having a damn good time—except Fred and me.
He was only drinking when I was.
“This is getting kind of boring, don’t you think?” Fred asked after a solid half hour of me winning.
I glanced at my watch. It’d been about two hours since we got here. I’d glanced over at Evie a time or two. She was relaxing and looked all right, with her lemon drop martini.
“How so? I could go all night.”
“I’m sure you could. You’ve collected quite a few things tonight, haven’t you, Shaw? Three months with a dietician, a custom costume from Brundle, how much money?”
“I haven’t counted.” I lifted my drink, and he did the same. I set it down without drinking, and so did he.
“Tell me why you’re really here.”
The table grew quiet. All eyes were on me, then Fred, then me.
“Do you really want me to tell the table?” I raised an eyebrow.
“We’re all friends here.” Fred grinned. “If you want something, just ask.”
I cocked my head to the side. Did I dare? It was what I’d come for in the first place. However, just saying it aloud could get me killed. I glanced back at Evie.
I had to try. For her.
Clearing my throat, I looked back at Fred. “I want to know what you know about Lita Reyes’s murder.”
The table stopped all noise.
A slow, forced smile slid over Frederick’s lips. “Lita Reyes wasn’t murdered. That’s a pretty bold statement.”
“What’s bold is you saying she wasn’t.”
I had him cornered.
“Fine. But I want something from you. If you want details about something you clearly know nothing about, you’re going to have to bet something worth it. No phone calls, no autographs, no fucking charity appearances. I want something good.”
The blood drained from my face as an evil, unsettling smile curled upward on his.
“You want Lita? I want Evie.”
I shoved my chair back, jumping up. The two men beside me grabbed my arms, holding me back from launching over the table.
“What do you say? Care to place a bet? If you win, I’ll tell you everything I know about Lita Reyes’s untimely end. If I win, I want a night with your girlfriend. How confident are you in your poker skills?”
I wasn’t at all.
But I’d had a good streak.
“Just you and me.” I shrugged the men off and sat back down.
Fred offered the cards to Christian beside him and nodded. Christian took the cards and began to shuffle them to deal.
“Just you and me.”
I sat there in stony silence as the cards were dealt. I lifted my cards—nine and ten of spades. Relief tried to creep in, but I wasn’t out of the water yet. Christian flipped over a jack, queen, and king.
Holy shit. I forced myself not to react to my luck. I glanced at Fred and only saw the same irritated look on his face.
Christian flipped the next card, a two of diamonds.
And then, the fifth. An ace.
I had a flush.
I had a fucking flush.
I set my cards down and lifted my head to look at Fred. He saw my cards, and then he laughed.
He laughed.
Instantly, all confidence and hope disappeared. Fred laid his cards down, revealing his royal flush.
No. No, this couldn’t be happening.
I stood up again, my chair clattering to the floor.
The table cheered and laughed at my misfortune. What had I done? Evie—I couldn’t. Oh no.
Fred stood, straightening his suit. Reaching behind him, he removed a gun from his belt, handing it to Christian.
“Good game, Shaw. I see you didn’t expect to lose. I didn’t really expect to win, either. And for that, I’m feeling a little... compassionate. Clearly, you were just trying to help a grieving daughter. I’ll give you a choice.”
I clenched my fists, chest heaving. There were no real choices here.
Fred smiled. “I can take her upstairs now and fuck her in the privacy of my bedroom. Or you can bring her over to the table and force her onto her knees in front of this crowd.”
“Fuck you!” I spat. “She’s not blowing you or fucking you.”
“Fine, I don’t care. I fucked my maid before my guests arrived tonight. This isn’t about sex. It’s about knowing your place. Bring her over, Sebastian. Now that I think about it, it’s best you show her just where her place is. On her knees.”