Man, I thought you were bluffin’.”
“Obviously I wasn’t.”
After each had gotten dressed, they walked to a neighborhood bar so Jimmy could collect a part of his drink winnings. Kat was now wearing jeans and a T-shirt that said i go all in. She was also chewing gum and snapping it. He found it annoying but didn’t say anything—yet. He’d changed into khaki trousers and another sports shirt. She got carded, and Jimmy got both dirty looks and winks from some of the other patrons as they sat at the bar.
“You were so lucky,” she said.
“Yes, I was, and now you are, if you learned something.”
The bartender set down his Newcastle and her scotch.
“So, you just couldn’t lay it down, huh?” he asked.
“Dude, I had a feelin’ you had the nuts, but, still, I was pot committed. I gotta make that call.”
“Wrong. You weren’t pot committed. My all-in bet was going to break you. And you never reraise into a possible cinch. And don’t forget, a good lay down separates the goods from the greats.”
“You talk like you’re a pro. Are you?” she asked.
“As it happens,” he said, sipping his beer, “yes.”
“Wait.” She set her drink down without tasting it and stared at him again. “You’re a professional gambler?”
“No,” he said. “I’m a professional poker player. My gambling’s another story.”
“If you’re a pro, dude, why are you readin’ the Brunson book?”
“Just keeping sharp,” he said. “I’ve been out of circulation awhile, but I’m getting ready to come back in. I’m just boning up.”
“You’re gonna play against Texas Dolly? That’s the nuts!”
“I’m going to be playing in tournaments,” he said. “I’ll be playing against all the—” He stopped himself, her weird poker speak finally getting to him. “By the way, what’s with you and the poker lingo? Don’t you think you’re pushing that a little bit?”
She shrugged. “It’s just a habit. Poker’s my life, you know.”
“Right. Okay, so I’m going to be playing against all the great players again.”
“Again? You’ve played against them before?”
“Once or twice in money games.”
“Are you goin’ on the tour?” Her eyes were shining and she still had not taken a sip of her drink.
“The tour?”
“The WPT tour.”
“I think I’ll have to. That’s where the money is. All the big cash games and, of course, the tournaments.”
“Okay, look, dude,” she said, “this is, like, fate. This is jackpot time for me. You gotta help me.”
“With what?”
“I want to play on the tour.”
He’d gone over in his mind how best to respond to this statement, knowing that it was coming.
“No way.”
She leaned back as if he’d slapped her.
“Why not?”
“Look at you.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
He hesitated, took a swallow of beer, then set his glass down on the bar.
“You mean besides the black nail polish, purple hair, and piercings?”
Her face colored. “What’s that got to do with playin’ poker?”
“All right. I’ll tell you a secret.”
“What?”
“I’ve seen you play around town. We go to some of the same places. In fact, I sat at a table with you once.”
“You did? I didn’t see you.”
“That’s because you pay too much attention to your cards and not enough to the other players.”
She laughed derisively. “How can you pay too much attention to your cards?”
“Look, Kat, I’ve seen the best hand lose to the better player more times than I can count.”
“Yeah, but isn’t the best player the one with the best hand?”
Jimmy shook his head sadly.
“You’ve got a lot to learn.”
“Then teach me, dude. This is what I’m sayin’. I wanna go all in on this. I wanna be the best.”
Here came the touchy part. He knew he’d have to be careful not to agree too readily.
“I’m no teacher, kid. Read the books.”
“I have read the books,” she said. “Brunson, Caro, Phil Hellmuth, but there’s only so much you can learn from books.”
“How do you even know I’m who I say I am?” he asked. “What makes you think you can believe me?”
“I have a built-in bullshit meter,” she said. “It’s tellin’ me you’re okay. It’s tellin’ me you’re the nuts.”
“Okay, you have to stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Throwing poker terms into the conversation. It’s getting silly.”
He could see she wanted to be insulted, but instead she let it slide.
“Well . . . okay.”
“And at your age you’ve got a reliable bullshit meter?”
“Comes from living with my father for so long,” she said. “The man was full of it.”
“And what’s he full of now?”
She smiled. “Cash. I’ll pay you to teach me.”
Now this would be tricky. If he turned down money he had better have a good reason.
“Look,” she continued, “you said you’ve seen me play. Why aren’t you just tellin’ me no, forget it, I can’t play? I’ll tell you why. Because I have talent and you know it.”
“Okay, it’s true,” he said. “You have some raw talent, but there’s so much of your game that is underdeveloped.”
“Look, dude,” she said, “the World Series of Poker just ended. We’ve got a whole year before the next one. In the meantime there’s WPT events. All kinds of action. I’m serious about paying you.”
“I don’t need your money.” Especially when he was taking her old man’s.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I have my own game to think about.”
“If you’re a pro like you say, your game is set,” she said.
“It’s a bit rusty.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been . . . away from the tables for a while.”
He was looking into her eyes and could see her mind racing.
“Maybe,” she said quickly, “maybe by helping me you can help yourself.”
“How’s that?”
“By startin’ from scratch. By helpin’ me bring my game up, maybe you’ll get your game back.”
Whether or not her logic was faulty she had given him a way in.
“Okay.”
She hesitated, then said, “What?” as if she hadn’t heard him right.
“I said okay,” he repeated. “Let’s give it a shot.”
“Do you mean it? No bluff?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I mean it. No bluff. But first thing?”
“Yeah?”
“Get rid of the gum,” he said. “The snapping drives me crazy.” He had a cell mate who used to do the same thing. The guy wouldn’t quit. Worst six months of his stretch. Almost.
Her eyes lit up. She threw her arms wide and leaped at him. He had no choice but to catch her.
“Oh, dude, thank you!”
Holding her in his arms he was catching still more looks from the other patrons, but he ignored them.
So much for her bullshit meter.