by Brynne Asher
That day we got to know each other over four and a half hours of hair and had lunch from the pizza place next to her salon. I told her all about my mom and moving to Virginia to purchase a winery. Outside of my winery people, she’s my only friend. She’s become a part of my life and that means she’s been adopted into our winery clan.
For some reason she doesn’t find Evan cute or charming. For a twenty-four-year-old, I think he’s a lot of both. Over the past couple months, we can all tell he’s got the hots for her. From the way she treats him, I know for a fact she does not reciprocate his hots. This has made for some interesting poker nights recently, and I think Evan enjoys her attitude because he smiles as he moves to the table where she’s standing.
He reaches around and scoops her dip with a chip when he leans in to the side of her face. There, he says softly, talking about her new hair color, “I like the turquoise.” She turns to him, narrowing her eyes. He stands over her by a good bit, as he’s probably just under six feet tall, making her look up as she glares. His smile turns into a wide grin, and I can see from here, that pisses her off. He holds his ground, saying, “I’ll get you a glass. I picked out something new for you to try.”
“Be fast about it,” she accepts with attitude. “I’m thirsty and I’ll need something to get through poker with you.”
“All-righty then.” My voice comes out chipper-like, breaking up the tense young-love moment. “Time to dish up some dinner so we can get started.”
Everyone begins piling their plates full when the doorbell chimes. I set my plate down and walk out of the kitchen wondering who that could be since everyone’s here.
I move toward the front door through the long center hall that separates the main floor rooms, running through the middle of the house. When I get there and open my antique door, I freeze.
Crew Vega is standing on my steps. He’s holding a six pack of beer in one hand and a grocery sack in the other.
When I look up, his sharp eyes are on me. I’m not sure where else he’d be looking, as I’m the only one standing here, but they seem sharper than before, if that’s possible. He’s wearing a newer t-shirt and another pair of jeans that are just as old as the ones he had on yesterday. His dark hair looks a little damp like he just got out of the shower, and this makes me wonder what he smells like. Soap, shampoo, cologne, aftershave? No, he wouldn’t smell like aftershave since he’s still unshaven. I’m not surprised to see the scruff is thicker, and for some reason I’m fascinated by it.
“Addison,” he greets me with a tip of his head.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, realizing I asked him that yesterday, too. I know this isn’t polite or neighborly, but my goal was to keep my cows away from him so I wouldn’t have to see him. And I don’t see a stray cow, so I don’t understand why he’s here.
“Poker.”
“Poker?”
“Yeah, poker.”
“But…” I pause, not knowing what to say. “How do you know about poker?”
“Bev invited me. I hear it’s in your haunted Ordinary.” He tips his head the other way and one side of his mouth curves up. “Want to see it for myself. I’m hoping your ghosts don’t wander as far as your cows, seein’ as we’re neighbors.”
I stand up straighter and frown. “The Ordinary is not haunted.”
“We’ll see.” He moves and I’m forced to step aside, allowing room for him to clear the doorway since he’s entered without an invitation.
“Crew—”
He interrupts, holding up the beer in his hand. “Where’s the fridge?”
When I don’t answer, he gives up and turns, starting down the main hall. Quickly, he saunters straight toward the kitchen and Ordinary, eerily knowing exactly where to go. I sigh and bite my lip. I want to curse Bev for inviting him to poker, but I don’t. Instead, I thank her in my head, because I secretly like Crew in my old farmhouse.
Everyone must be settled because when I catch up with him, he’s alone in the kitchen, helping himself to pasta and lil’ smokies. Then he sets his plate down and reaches into his plastic grocery sack, pulling out a bag of barbecue potato chips. After ripping it open, I watch him dump a huge pile on top of his pasta and smokies.
I try not to make a face, but yuck. That’s disgusting.
Reaching in the sack one more time, he utters, “Brought dessert.”
My breath catches with what he tosses on my kitchen table.
“Ghost town this way? I’ve never met George Washington.”
I don’t look up from the kitchen table as he leaves, finding his way to the Ordinary without direction. I hear him clomp down the four wooden stairs into my large brick room that’s listed on the Historical Register. Everyone greets Crew as I slowly move to the table.
When I get there, I pick up the bag he so casually tossed. More so, I wonder why he chose these. Further, I wonder how he could have known. I’ve eaten them my whole life and I still do. There’s always a bowl on my desk at the winery and I keep a stash here at home, too. He’s never been in my office or my home. And everyone, everyone, around me knows not to touch the green apples. They’re the only ones I like.
I wish I had it in me to smile. To be giddy. To get all warm and fuzzy the way a woman should when a coincidence occurs with a beautiful but rugged man. I long to be normal, pondering the coincidence of him and my favorite candy, turning it into everything, when really, it’s probably nothing.
But I’ve never been able to be that woman, and I never will be.
“Addy! I’ve got a date, you coming?” Van yells.
I quickly collect myself and rip open the bag, fishing out four green apples. Quickly, like I’ve done since I’ve moved here, I read the jokes and make sure they’re not about cows. Ever since I purchased Whitetail, I save the cow jokes because they’re funnier now that I own cows. No cow jokes, so I grab my plate and Moscow mule. Taking a deep breath, I head to my Ordinary—that is not haunted—and do my best to prepare myself for a night of poker with Crew.
I’ll think about the Laffy Taffy later. I’m sure it’s a happenstance, at best. Everyone likes Laffy Taffy, right? Especially the jokes.
Yes. It’s a pure oddity. Nothing more.
Chapter 6 – Flush
Addy –
“Damn, I can’t beat that. You got me.”
From behind my mountain of chips, I glare across the table at Crew. It’s late and I started scowling at him an hour and a half ago. Before that, I did my best to ignore his presence. Now I’m infuriated, and even though it’s quarter poker, I know what he’s doing.
Earlier this evening when I joined the rest of the group in the Ordinary, I found Crew in my spot. Everyone knows where I like my chair and place at the table, they know better than to disturb the seating arrangement.
When I saw him sitting in my spot, I informed him of this. “You’re in my seat.”
He replied with a mouth full of pasta, probably mixed with barbecue chips, “There’s an empty seat across the table.”
“But I always sit there.”
He swallowed his mouthful of food with a swig of beer before refuting, “I’m settled.”
Bev leaned into him and murmured under her breath, “She doesn’t like change.”
That was absolutely not true. I, of all people, have learned how to live with change. “I can do change.”
“It’s not so much change,” Evan butted in. “She’s a control freak.”
Well that, unfortunately, was true. Still, I had to defend myself. “I can’t help that I like what I like. And I’ve come to like my spot at the poker table.”
Crew shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just a chair. You’ll be fine.”
“No. I won’t,” I protested and started to move around the table.
“Addison,” he called for me and when he did, my name glided out soft and smooth from his lips. When I stopped to look up, his eyes weren’t sharp like they usually are. They matched his tone and he weirdly gave me a reassu
ring look when he tips his head toward the empty chair. “Sit down so we can get started.”
I would’ve looked ridiculous had I kept arguing, not to mention his soft tone caught me off guard, so I sat across from my normal seat now occupied by Crew. I did this ill-tempered, wondering silently if Monday night poker will consistently include my new neighbor. The thought made me feel funny, in a good and bad way. There’s something about him that makes me nervous, yet I find myself captivated. He’s straightforward, but he’s not. He is who he is, yet nevertheless, mysterious. What makes me nervous is the feeling he sees too much of me, and that, I do not like.
That’s how the evening started. Not only did he show up uninvited—not invited by me anyway—but he grossed me out by mixing chips with pasta, freaked me out with the Laffy Taffy, and stole my poker spot. Once the game commenced and I finally ate something, I settled in, even if it was begrudgingly.
Until I started winning.
Even if the first couple hands were small, I was on a roll. Then I won huge during a game of No Peak. The winnings are always big in No Peek. I was thrilled and forgot all about Crew stealing my seat. I won again…then again…and again. Now, I’m not an idiot and have played poker for years. I knew what was happening, hence my reason for glaring across the table at our new guest.
“What did you have?” I demand after he informed the table he lost again without proving it.
Tossing his cards face down, he leans back. “You beat me—I don’t have to show my cards.”
“That’s the third time you stuck it out to the end and said you lost.”
“Thought I could pull it out. You can’t win if you don’t play, eventually my luck’ll change.” He starts to pile the cards together as Mary collects my winnings from the center of the table.
“You must really suck at poker,” I chide. “Are you sure you’ve ever played?”
Shuffling the cards, his eyes narrow on me with a stony face. “Of course I’ve played. Just having an off night.”
“I know what you’re doing,” I accuse.
“What am I doing, Addison?” His voice is sarcastic as he shuffles. He looks to me while handing the deck to Bev, who grins like a loon as she cuts the cards.
“You’re paying me back.”
He ignores me and starts to deal. “Texas Hold ‘Em.”
“For the fence,” I add.
“Ante up,” he keeps on ignoring me, but I don’t ante. I sit back and cross my arms. Without taking my eyes off him, I sense Mary ante for me from my ever growing mass of chips.
If he’s going to cheat and throw poker, I’ll simply refuse to play.
Morris starts and the betting moves around the table. When it gets to me, I refuse to pick up my cards and grump, “I’m out.”
“You can’t be out.” Evan frowns. “You haven’t looked at your cards and the flop hasn’t been laid.”
“She’s in,” Crew announces and I frown deeper as Mary tosses my chips in to call the bet.
My cards lay unseen as I get back to the point I was trying to make. “You can’t pay me back for the fence by throwing poker, Crew.”
He calls, burns a card, and lays down the flop. Looking at the table, I see the Ace of diamonds, four of diamonds, and eight of spades. Nothing.
Betting commences.
Morris: I’m out.
Mary: Fifty cents.
Me: I’m out.
Evan: You still haven’t looked at your cards.
Me: I don’t care. I’m out.
Crew: She’s in.
Me: I’m not.
Mary messes with my chips, and before I know it, she sees the bet for me.
Evan: I’m in.
Bev: I’m always in.
And she is. She plays to the end of every hand, no matter her cards. She says it’s the law of poker, she’ll win more that way—which she doesn’t. She always loses.
Crew: I’m in.
Me: Of course you are.
That won me a scruffy grin and a dimple. Damn it.
The turn and the river are dealt, with more betting between each. Mary is out, however she keeps betting for me from my pile of clay while my cards remain face down. Through all this, the four of clubs and six of diamonds are added. A pair of fours show on the table. Abysmal.
The last round of betting ensues—it’s down to Bev, Evan, Crew and me. When it gets around to Crew, he of course sees the bet and calls. “Show your cards.”
“Straight,” Evan announces with a smile.
Laying her cards out, Bev sighs. “I have a pair.”
“Everyone has a pair, Bev,” Morris scoffs. “There’s a pair on the table.”
“I was hoping for another four.” She shakes her head in defeat.
“Show your cards, Addison,” Crew demands.
I look at him, narrowing my eyes and refute, “You first.”
“I dealt.”
I tip my head the other way. “It’s my house.”
He says nothing but raises his eyebrows and shrugs as if to say, that it is, before flipping his cards over. “Flush.”
I look at his cards, and coupled with the ones on the table, he has five diamonds. Finally, I smile. A flush is a decent hand, not at all common, especially without a wild card. Liking how I played this, finally making him show his cards, I realize my chances of winning are slim. Reaching out, I pick up my cards and flip them over in the middle of the table, landing on top of the pile of clay chips.
Then I slump in my chair.
Shit.
“You’re on a winning streak!” Bev shrieks, clapping her hands in quick succession.
“What are the odds?” Evan grumbles.
“You thought you were all high and mighty with a straight,” Mary gibes Evan.
I look up from the cards and all I see are Crew’s deep dark eyes smiling. His lush lips surrounded by scruff tip when he says, “Full house beats a flush. You’re having a good night.”
He really makes winning not gratifying. At all.
“I’m beat. Time to go, Bevie.” Morris pushes his chair back, scratching across my old hardwoods.
“I’ll cash everyone out.” Evan starts counting chips.
I don’t even want to know how much I won. Deciding to ignore them all, I get up carrying dishes and cups on my way. When I get to the kitchen and start loading the dishwasher, Mary appears at my side.
“Who in the hell is that?” she asks under her breath while crowding me at the sink.
“Who?” I don’t look away from my task, not wanting to talk about Crew. Especially right now.
She bumps me with the entire side of her body and frowns. “You know who. What’s up with you and the new neighbor? He looked as comfortable as George Washington hanging out in the Ordinary and you looked scared of his ghost.”
I whip my head to her and snap, “The Ordinary is not haunted. I’m not going to tell you again to quit talking about ghosts and George Washington. I’ll ban you from poker.”
She rolls her eyes and sounds bored. “Fine. It’s not haunted, Georgie isn’t floating around your house at night, and all the previous owners’ stories are bullshit. Happy?”
“Stop it, Mary. You don’t have to sleep here by yourself every night.” I jab her with my elbow since my hands are wet from washing dishes.
“Whatever.” She flips her long turquoise and blonde locks over her shoulder. “He’s into you. Even if it is in a calm and cool way. He couldn’t take his eyes off you all night, but how would you know—you spent the whole night ignoring him.”
“I didn’t ignore him. I’m plenty perturbed at him right now. He’s trying to pay me back for fixing the fence that lines our properties. I refused him in the beginning, trying to be neighborly since the fence was rotted when he bought the place. I’m the one with cows—he doesn’t have a reason to need a fence. Then he sent me a check, Mary. A ridiculous check for ten-thousand dollars.”
“Wow.” She frowns, her eyes go big.
“Yeah.
I ripped it up and tossed it at him on his doorstep, no way am I taking money from him. I might not have been nice about it, but you know I don’t like people having a hold on me and that’s how it felt. He told me the other day he’d find a way of paying me back, now it’s a matter of sheer will. The fence was barely over eight-hundred dollars in materials and Morris works on the property for a salary, there was nothing extra for labor. So you see, the man’s infuriating and threw the game to pay me back for the fence.”
“But you probably won thirty bucks at most. How’s that paying you back for the fence?”
“It just is. I can tell.” I slam my rickety dishwasher shut, flipping off the water and decide to leave it at that. It’ll freak me out to talk about the Laffy Taffy or how he likes the sound of my full name.
She doesn’t have the chance to interrogate me further. Bev comes in the kitchen announcing, “Fifty-two big ones for you. No one ever wins that much.” She slaps my money down on the kitchen table before going to her crock pot. Morris goes straight for the cookies, bound and determined to keep them for himself.
“First Van cashes out early, which is bullshit, and then Addy wins twice as much as anyone normally wins. She even did it without looking at her cards,” Evan gripes walking through the door with all his poker gear. Stopping to pick up his cooler, his face softens when he turns to Mary. “I’ll walk you out.”
“I don’t need an escort.” She puts her hands on her hips. “I’m parked right outside the door. What, is a deer going to get me?”
Evan ignores her and looks at me devilishly. “Probably not a deer, but maybe a ghost.”
“Shut your mouth,” I snap as Mary laughs out loud.
“Let’s go,” Morris says with cookies in his hand. “I’ve got workers coming tomorrow to prune. Gotta get up early.”
Morris manages the care of the vines and they require pruning at least once a month. It’s a big job and he hires a small group to help. It will take at least the rest of the week to get through all the acres.
Bev kisses me on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”