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Authors: Claire Thompson
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mine, Zoë,”
he whispered in my ear.
This was too much.
I backed away from him, ignoring the whoosh of electricity that had whipped
through me when his lips touched my face. Just then I saw Jim coming outside.
He was looking around, probably for me. With relief I rushed over to him. “Jim,
what have you been telling this guy? He claims he won me in a poker game! What
is going on?” Jim came over and hugged me. He smelled of beer and sweat.
Nervous sweat.
“I know this is
nuts, Zoë. I didn’t think he’d win! I swear, I had the perfect hand. And I was
going to win back the $2,500 I’d lost and then some—”
“$2,500! What, are
you out of your fucking mind? You don’t have that kind of money! Don’t you
know, Jim, you don’t bet more than you can cover! Now you’re telling me you
lost $2,500? Because if you think you’re going to borrow it from me, you’ve got
another thing coming—”
Mr. Tall Dark and
Handsome had come up to us. He intervened, his voice smooth and suave. I wanted
to smack him; to tell him to mind his own business. Jim stepped back slightly,
as the man said, “No, Jim doesn’t owe me $2,500. I forgave him the debt,
conditionally of course. I don’t need his money. I want something else he has.”
He looked at me, a slow smile curving up his face, his eyes sparkling in the
torches set along the poolside.
I turned to him,
and said, suddenly engaging in the game, “Oh, what might that be?”
He held out his
hand, smiling, and answered, “My name is David. David Turner. Jim here made a
very unusual bet. He bet you, my dear. And I’m here to claim my prize.”
I didn’t take his
hand. Instead, I pulled Jim by the arm and got him out of earshot. Any trace of
a champagne high was gone, and I felt a curious knot in my stomach. “Jim, what
the hell is going on? Who is this guy, and how dare you bet me in a card
game! You can’t bet something that doesn’t belong to you! And, in case you
haven’t noticed, I’m not property! I’m a person!”
Jim was sweating,
more than the warm summer night would warrant. He looked anxiously over at that
David fellow, who was looking out over the pool, where several very scantily
clad sweet little things were romping in the water.
I turned back to
Jim, waiting for his explanation. “God, Zoë, I had too much to drink, and I
wasn’t thinking very clearly. He kept harping on you. Like, how gorgeous you
were, and how hot, and wondering who had come in with such a babe. I was so
fucking sure I had it made! I was so sure I had the winning hand, I swear to
god.”
“But I was $2,500
in the hole, and even if I won the hand, I’d still be out some serious bucks.
So when he said, I’ll see your hundred, but I have a better idea. How about a
night with your gorgeous girlfriend, and we’ll call it even? Well, how could I
refuse? I was so sure I’d win, that it was just academic. It was a joke! I had
no idea he was serious!”
Jim went on, his
expression pleading, “I know it’s nuts, but maybe you could humor him a little
or something? Let him buy you a drink, maybe? I don’t know.” I didn’t answer. I
just stood there fuming at him. The man had tried to sell me in a card game!
He went on, his
voice now a whine. “Please, Zoë. I know I’m a total jerk, but to tell you the
truth, I don’t know what to do! I don’t have $2,500, and somehow he doesn’t
look like the kind of guy who will say to forget it.
“Listen, all you’d
have to do is spend a couple of hours with him. What do you say? Please? I’ll
never ask anything of you again after this, I swear!” Then Jim did the one
thing that got to me. He started to cry! The poor pathetic boy started to tear
up, and he was wringing his hands. I remembered that once I had actually
thought I loved the guy, and he did look so miserable standing there.
And it wasn’t as
if this David fellow was disgusting. He was obviously rich, and totally
handsome, and apparently found me attractive! It
he whispered in my ear.
This was too much.
I backed away from him, ignoring the whoosh of electricity that had whipped
through me when his lips touched my face. Just then I saw Jim coming outside.
He was looking around, probably for me. With relief I rushed over to him. “Jim,
what have you been telling this guy? He claims he won me in a poker game! What
is going on?” Jim came over and hugged me. He smelled of beer and sweat.
Nervous sweat.
“I know this is
nuts, Zoë. I didn’t think he’d win! I swear, I had the perfect hand. And I was
going to win back the $2,500 I’d lost and then some—”
“$2,500! What, are
you out of your fucking mind? You don’t have that kind of money! Don’t you
know, Jim, you don’t bet more than you can cover! Now you’re telling me you
lost $2,500? Because if you think you’re going to borrow it from me, you’ve got
another thing coming—”
Mr. Tall Dark and
Handsome had come up to us. He intervened, his voice smooth and suave. I wanted
to smack him; to tell him to mind his own business. Jim stepped back slightly,
as the man said, “No, Jim doesn’t owe me $2,500. I forgave him the debt,
conditionally of course. I don’t need his money. I want something else he has.”
He looked at me, a slow smile curving up his face, his eyes sparkling in the
torches set along the poolside.
I turned to him,
and said, suddenly engaging in the game, “Oh, what might that be?”
He held out his
hand, smiling, and answered, “My name is David. David Turner. Jim here made a
very unusual bet. He bet you, my dear. And I’m here to claim my prize.”
I didn’t take his
hand. Instead, I pulled Jim by the arm and got him out of earshot. Any trace of
a champagne high was gone, and I felt a curious knot in my stomach. “Jim, what
the hell is going on? Who is this guy, and how dare you bet me in a card
game! You can’t bet something that doesn’t belong to you! And, in case you
haven’t noticed, I’m not property! I’m a person!”
Jim was sweating,
more than the warm summer night would warrant. He looked anxiously over at that
David fellow, who was looking out over the pool, where several very scantily
clad sweet little things were romping in the water.
I turned back to
Jim, waiting for his explanation. “God, Zoë, I had too much to drink, and I
wasn’t thinking very clearly. He kept harping on you. Like, how gorgeous you
were, and how hot, and wondering who had come in with such a babe. I was so
fucking sure I had it made! I was so sure I had the winning hand, I swear to
god.”
“But I was $2,500
in the hole, and even if I won the hand, I’d still be out some serious bucks.
So when he said, I’ll see your hundred, but I have a better idea. How about a
night with your gorgeous girlfriend, and we’ll call it even? Well, how could I
refuse? I was so sure I’d win, that it was just academic. It was a joke! I had
no idea he was serious!”
Jim went on, his
expression pleading, “I know it’s nuts, but maybe you could humor him a little
or something? Let him buy you a drink, maybe? I don’t know.” I didn’t answer. I
just stood there fuming at him. The man had tried to sell me in a card game!
He went on, his
voice now a whine. “Please, Zoë. I know I’m a total jerk, but to tell you the
truth, I don’t know what to do! I don’t have $2,500, and somehow he doesn’t
look like the kind of guy who will say to forget it.
“Listen, all you’d
have to do is spend a couple of hours with him. What do you say? Please? I’ll
never ask anything of you again after this, I swear!” Then Jim did the one
thing that got to me. He started to cry! The poor pathetic boy started to tear
up, and he was wringing his hands. I remembered that once I had actually
thought I loved the guy, and he did look so miserable standing there.
And it wasn’t as
if this David fellow was disgusting. He was obviously rich, and totally
handsome, and apparently found me attractive! It
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