[Sodium_noir] Holding All the Cards

[Les Anderson]

Tony Sleeves
Ventrue
PC Club

The tension was almost as thick as the cigar and cigarette smoke in
the air as the river came down. Tony preferred to call it fifth
street, but with all those damn poker shows on TV now everybody called
it the river so what were you gonna do?

9 of Clubs.

It did nothing for him- he already had his straight, seven to jack-
off the turn. But Billy D had been going for the flush. And he hadn't
gotten his last heart. Even so he would've come up with trips, with
the 9 in his hand and the 9 on the flop, but it wasn't enough.

He'd gone all in, trying to buy the pot, and all he'd managed to do
was get Tony Sleeves to put in most of his chips. And now he was out.
And he couldn't afford what he'd bet.

"Tony, Tony, man," Billy D's voice was wheedling, pleading, "come on,
Sleeves. I can't... you can't really wanna take my house. I mean, it's
my house. Come on, man." The panicked man ran a hand through hair
quickly becoming slick with sweat.

Tony's voice was calm, his face composed as he looked up at the
unfortunate loser. "Consider it a second mortgage, Billy. I'm not
gonna kick you and your wife and kids out on the street. But I'm
either going to need your 500k by the end of tomorrow or I expect to
see the deed to your house on my desk, all signed and ready to
transfer."

"Half a mil!? I only lost 26 on top of the 3 large you gave me for the
trade!" Anger had replaced the panic, but there was still an
undercurrent of shock underneath it all.

"But I could flip the place for half a mil. And I would if you weren't
such a good friend to me." His tone turned chilly as he went on. "But
as my good friend you know I don't appreciate it when people take that
sort of tone with me. Not in my own house, Billy. Now get a hold of
yourself and figure out what you're going to do."

Tony Sleeves stood up, then, an island of calm in the middle of the
storm of Billy D's anger and frustration. He patted Billy on the
shoulder as he passed him. "Get a drink from the bar on me, then go
home and take some time to think."

He gestured at Lacey behind the bar and she nodded back at him,
understanding what her boss wanted. As he walked away from the table
the dealer took his chips and handed them off to the pit boss to take
to the cages. They were all experienced and well trained, as well they
should be for what he paid them.

The small, exclusive casino's owner made his way through the tables
greeting his regulars, smoothing the ruffled feathers of the gamblers
who had been upset by Billy's scene. The mobster finally reached the
door and walked up the stairs to his office.

With no one else around he allowed himself a smile at his win- he'd
only gone in to see what Billy D thought he had, but then he'd pulled
that straight. It had been a good hand. And he had no mercy or pity
for Billy; you shouldn't play for more than you could afford to pay.

It was one thing he loved about this business- the house always won in
the end. The casino was virtually a license to print money. And even
if the unlimited betting sometimes resulted in a short term loss, the
possibility of winning millions at a hand brought new members in a
steady stream.

The membership fee was more of a gimmick than a real revenue
generator. It made people feel like they were part of an exclusive
club, like they were special. Twenty grand a year was nothing to most
of the people out there.

All in all, it was a good way to start the night. He looked at his
desk, at the computer on it, and nodded to himself. More work to do
now. Almost as interesting but not half as fun.