Read Online Card Sharks by Liz Maverick - Free Book Online Page A

couple up. And there are some animals who don’t couple up the way Noah thought they would.”
    â€œAnd we’re not either of those kind of animals,” Bijoux said with the voice of finality.
    â€œNo,” Marianne said, taking another 2-Bite in one bite. “We’re not.”
    They turned back to the television, where Molly was sewing a really hideous pink prom dress that the audience was supposed to think was cool and creative but which was actually super disappointing and ugly. Bijoux rummaged through the supplies and pulled out a Twinkies twin-pack. She took one for herself and passed the other one over. “Marianne?”
    â€œHmm?”
    â€œWhat are we going to do?”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œAbout our futures.”
    Marianne hoisted an eyebrow. “I’m doing fine, thank you. And as for you, my suggestion has always been to convince your parents to set up a foundation with you as the head for dispensing your fortune for good works, a task for which you will be admirably compensated.”
    Bijoux stared down at the remaining Twinkie stub in her hand. “We’re not fine.” She pushed the stub in her mouth and licked the cream off her fingers, the end result being that the cream filling ended up everywhere. With her mouth still full, she said something along the lines of, “I’m not fine, you’re not fine, and if we don’t do something about it soon, I fear that it will all creep up on us.”
    She was so, so serious that Marianne didn’t have the heart to tease anymore. “What will, sweetie?”
    Bijoux’s arms flailed out to indicate the entirety of the Friday-night experience. “This! Terminal this -ness. Can you say ‘crisis’?”
    Marianne just looked at her. “Our problems aren’t interesting enough to be a crisis.”
    Bijoux nodded sagely. “Which means we are facing down a disaster on a scale so massive, so all-encompassing, I fear we may never escape,” she said very clearly, very calmly, veryseriously. “We are on the verge, my friend, of never-ending blah. And what’s more, we are cresting thirty as we stand on the precipice of this blah-ness.”
    â€œI see.”
    â€œWhat we’ve got here is an epidemic of catastrophic proportions.” Bijoux was on a roll now. She’d hit some kind of a wall. “Look at this. I mean, just look at this!” She swung the remote control toward the television, overexaggerating her movements to indicate just how desperate their situation was. “It’s Friday f-ing night, and the only thing on is Molly Ringwald, Spanish-language programming, and poker. This is my idea of hell.”
    Marianne tucked her feet under the one scrap of cashmere blanket that wasn’t swathed around Bijoux. “We could . . . go out or something. No, forget I said that. That’s obviously not working. All of the eligible men in Los Angeles—which isn’t a whole lot to begin with, I might add—all of the eligible men in Los Angeles are staying inside playing poker or watching it on TV!”
    â€œThere is one thing we haven’t tried,” Bijoux said. “We haven’t tried meeting the boys at their own game. We haven’t tried going out and playing poker.”
    Marianne stared at her friend. “I’m not exactly sure how to process that statement. Is this because you went to that casino benefit?”
    â€œSort of. Peter and I were talking about it. He says there are tons of rich, eligible men out there playing poker together.”
    Marianne narrowed her eyes. “He said that?”
    â€œWell, not exactly.”
    â€œNot exactly?”
    â€œHe might have been joking.”
    â€œIf that’s the case, it’s probably just as well. I’m not certain we want to be dating gamblers anyway,” Marianne said, popping open a bag of Skittles.
    â€œSome of those guys make