Read Online Dead Man's Hand by Steven Meehan - Free Book Online Page B

have struck a
nerve because he replied all too quickly.  “But in a situation like this,
that kind of strategy becomes increasingly difficult with the lack of time.”
    “The lack of time does
play against me, I’ll agree.  As I said every option has its flaws, but I can
pick things up that most people would miss a thousand times over.”  Then
my tongue kept on wagging despite the fact I had intended it to remain
silent.  “Besides I’ve noticed that it works very well even with those
who, as you have said, are wrapped in a false persona.”
    As Patrick listened to my
words he took a couple long drinks from his bottle and I could tell he was
thinking about what I had said.  I knew that I had probably lost my edge
with him.  He might not know what I had seen but he knew that I had seen
something I thought I could exploit.  But just as he was forming his next
words Bella jumped into the conversation and anything that had been gathered up
in his mind was washed away under the tidal wave of her anger, maybe we
shouldn’t have gone down our little rabbit hole.
    “Excuse me
gentlemen.”  Bella glared at each of us in turn making sure she had our
complete attention before she went on.  “The two of you seem to have
forgotten that you’re not the only ones sitting at this table.  Can’t you
two simply agree to disagree? So what if you two have different ways to read
people.  You also are different body types.  It happens.  You
each have a favorite technique because it works for you.  That’s one of
the reasons we play the game, you know.  To see who has the better
game.  But right now, it is not about our game, this is supposed to be a
short little pampering session.  So would the two of you stop and play
nice?”
    Patrick, as stone faced
as ever, somehow managed to laugh, not a great belly laugh or anything but it
was still a laugh. With a smile stretching across my face I lifted my glass and
offered a toast, “To each of us, may we have smooth sailings to the final table
and may we discover who can play the game the best.”
    “Here, here Marcus, well said.” 
Patrick chimed in with what seemed to be genuine cheer, though I could see the
lie in his eyes.  “Each of us can only perform with the gifts with which
we were born.  And unfortunately not all gifts are equal.”
    I knew he was still
trying to provoke me.  No not provoke me, he was just trying to get an
honest reaction out of me.  Calm or provoked he would learn something
about me.  So I decided to use this for my advantage.  “Patrick you
truly are gifted with a great array of tools.  And you are truly gifted in
the ones you choose to employ.”
    “Some of my skills are
indeed hard to learn.”  Patrick said with trace amounts of caution
coloring his words.
    It was as if he knew I
was up to something but he had no idea what it was.  Again I was thankful
for the prideful.  And he was squarely in my trap, now I just needed it to
actually work.  “No it’s actually not hard to learn.  In fact it is
very easy to learn, most children master it fairly early on in life.  The
difficulty comes in the mastery of its implementation.  And that’s the
half of the skill that I lack.”
    Again, if I hadn’t been
looking I would have missed it, but I didn’t.  It was the slightest of
motions, I may have gone a little too far with the children comment but I
needed to be sure I got the reaction.  And now I was sure, normally he had
an endless supply of patience, but when it came to something he had pride in,
he held a very short fuse.  It didn’t matter that he was so disciplined
that he was able to club the temper back down almost instantly, he had a
vulnerability.  And more importantly it was one I could exploit over and
over again.
    It did have a nice
defense though.  There were very few opportunities to really expose that
weakness.  Granted I had proved that he could be provoked, but he had the
discipline to clamp down the