Tables Turned 17

Poker Bet: Tables Turned

This is a different take on a tired cliche. I hope you like it.

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"You did what?"

I think he was surprised that I wasn't screaming. "Uh, well, you see....it was a sure thing! There was no way he could beat four aces!"

"And yet it appears he did. What did he have?"

"A six high straight flush."

"How big was the pot?" He hemmed and hawed for a second before he told me. "Five thousand."

That's when I lost it. "FIVE GRAND! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING PLAYING IN A GAME WITH SUCH HIGH STAKES?"

He was bright red. "It was just the last few hands, honey. Up until then we stuck to the standard stakes. I was winning big so I went along with it."

"How long did it take them to strip you of your winnings?"

He was bright red, embarrassed beyond words. "About six hands."

"And after the third hand it didn't occur to you to take what you had left and call it a night? Ever once consider the fix was in? You apparently couldn't lose when the stakes were low, but when they went up you couldn't find your ass with both hands, a flashlight, and a GPS app. Sucker, much?"

By now hubby was pissed and bright red, but he still looked a little guilty. "What else aren't you telling me?"

"I played one more hand. It was a way to get my money back plus another three grand."

"Did you win?"

I doubted his face could get any redder sort of exploding. "No."

"Dumbass! What did that cost us?"

"You."

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I had to stop for a minute, to try and get my head around it. I knew what he meant, but I wanted him to spell it out. "What do you mean, me?"

"I bet the guy three nights with you where you'd do every thing he told you, without complaint. He would bring you back Monday morning."

"Slight miscalculation, soon to be ex. You better come up with a way to pay that debt. There is no way in hell what you bet will ever happen."

"He's a pretty powerful guy, honey. It might not be that simple."

I finally laughed. "Have him pop around, honey" I put as much sarcasm as I could in 'honey'. "I'll be glad to explain how the real world works." He was still blustering and begging two hours later as I locked the bedroom door behind me. Ex, my new nickname for him, begged for a week. I found out the man's name and looked him up. He was the heir apparent to a business empire worth a lot of millions. Oddly he had a good standing in the community, but here he was in a poker game, gambling for people. I briefly wondered how my husband came to know him before deciding it didn't matter. He wasn't the only one who knew people.

My second cousin were the same age and we grew up together, and we were very close. I was extremely proud when he passed the bar after graduation from one of the top law schools in the country, even prouder when he went into public service. In eight years he worked his was up to District Attorney of our county, after beating his corrupt boss in a landslide. A bonus was he never liked my husband. I told him the story, including the players involved. He leaned back against his sofa, closing his eyes, while his wife left his side and snuggled me. Two minutes later he opened his eyes. "Two things. You said he was to pick you up Friday afternoon? I'll be there, with a couple of plainsclothes officers waiting if I need them. We'll clear everything up and he'll never bother you again. Next, I want your faithful promise you'll lose that idiot husband before he does something like this again and you don't have time to get help."

He got up, walked to his gun safe, and opened it. "Here," he said, handing me an automatic and two extra magazines. It was a little.380, easy to conceal but still very effective at close quarters. My family had shot for years so I was familiar with it. "Keep this in your purse, and do not hesitate if you have to use it. I'll make sure you have the best defense lawyer possible. I'll be there at five Friday. Do not tell anyone I'm coming. If possible, leave the back door unlocked so no one will know I'm there."

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Friday rolled around way too soon. Darrin, my cousin, was sitting at the counter having a beer, while hubby sulked somewhere else. As soon as he saw Darrin he paled, made an excuse, and left. At six exactly there was a knock at the door. I answered, and the man seemed surprised to see me wearing sweat pants and a baggy shirt, my hair put up in a messy ponytail. He was wearing an expensive suit and was amazingly attractive. I had a fleeting regret that this was how we were meeting, but it is what it was. "Can I help you?"

He seemed to be a person that was in control at all times, but I had him a little flustered. "Um, I'm here to pick up Holly."

"I'm Holly, and I have no idea who you are or why you're here. Pick me up to go where, exactly?"

He didn't know what to say, and I felt a little pity for him. "I know exactly why you're here, Mr. Hansen, to collect on a bet from my husband. First, I'm not property, chattel, or any other term that means I have no free will. I fear you have wasted your time. But, come on in, I'm sure you have a story worth hearing."

He drew up short when he saw Darrin. "Let me introduce you. Darrin, this is Mr. Hansen, an associate of my husband. Mr. Hansen, this is Darrin Grooms, the local DA and my cousin."

Darrin rose and offered a hand, and Mr. Hansen didn't hesitate to shake it. "Well," he said, grinning, "this wasn't what I was expecting at all. I think I may have wasted everyone's time."

"Would you give us a few minutes? Coffee?"

He took a cup, a half smile on his face. A very handsome face, I decided. "Look, I know what my husband promised you, but that's never going to happen. Why did you accept the bet?"

"Because he showed me a picture of you. You're a very attractive woman, Mrs. Howard. On top of that, you're husband is a bit of a jerk, and I wanted to put him in his place."

"Well, that worked. He's off hiding somewhere, scared to death. Out of curiosity, what did you bet against me?"

"If I remember correctly, there was eight thousand in the pot."

It shocked me. "Wow! I was really worth that much?"

"Let me put it like this. If the pot had been twice that, I would have still taken the bet." I didn't know what to say. He finished his coffee and stood.

"Let me ask you something. You seem to be a very successful person, and quite handsome. Why would you need to gamble to get a woman?"

His smile showed his perfect teeth. "I have no trouble attracting women, Mrs. Howard. I didn't need to gamble on you. I wanted to. Well, it's just as best. If you had come, I wouldn't have respected you. Oh, I would have still spent all weekend trying to pound you through the mattress and into the floor, but it would have been just sex. Really good sex, no doubt, but that would have been all. I'd have brought you back and never given you another thought. Now, I'll have fantasies about you for years to come. The one that got away. You have a nice life, and tell your husband he needs to call me as soon as possible. Soon, understand?"

He gave me a card before he left, telling me if I ever needed something to call him first. He shook Darrin's hand again, and turned to leave. I don't know why I did it, but as he reached to shake my hand I grabbed him, pulling him into me and locking lips. He tasted really good, and after initial shock, he kissed back. We probably kissed for thirty seconds before I let him go. "What was that for?," He asked as he gently touched his lips.

"That was fuel for your fantasies, Mr. Hansen. Good night. I'm sorry you wasted your time."

He laughed. "The kiss made it worth my time, Mrs. Howard. If I may be so bold, you should get your husband to stop gambling. He's not nearly as good as he thinks he is. The group I normally play with would have eaten him alive. Sooner or later it will cause you real trouble."

"I totally agree with you. Most might not be as reasonable as you seem to be."

Something shifted in his eyes, making me suddenly unsure. "I agree I'm a reasonable man, Mrs. Howard, and in some cases quite forgiving, but if you slight me, I can be most disagreeable. Your husband will pay me what he owes, rest assured, and you can also rest assured that I will find a way for it not to be a burden on you. Good night. It really was a pleasure to meet you."

We watched as he walked down the drive and got into a really expensive looking vehicle.

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Darrin grinned at me. "Well, that was interesting, as well as being a little creepy at times. I checked him out and he doesn't seem to be in the same line of business as some of his cousins. In fact, he came out squeaky clean, not even a traffic ticket. He is also a certified genius, graduating from MIT with a degree in engineering, then Harvard, with a Masters in Business, all before he was 22. He went to work for his father, and the companies he managed seemed to explode when he took them over. Oh yeah, what was that kiss about? I thought I was going to have to throw cold water on you for a while there."

I flamed red before I giggled. "I just wanted him to know what kind of merchandise he was missing out on. He's a pretty good kisser."

"Judging by the arm candy he's been seen with, he's probably practiced a lot. Just because he's clean doesn't mean he's not dangerous."

"I'll probably never see him again. Thanks, cousin, for helping us out."

"I did it for you, not him. He's a loser, Holly, dead weight that will drag you down if you're not careful. Think about it, I have to get home to Heather. I'm sure she'll squeeze every detail out of me." I gave him a big hug, glad I had family.

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Mike finally came home in the middle of the night, to an empty house. I'd gone to see a college friend two towns over, staying the weekend. I had a pretty good time catching up with old friends, and he spent a miserable couple of days wondering how hard Hansen was fucking me.

I pulled into a gas station just before I got home, going into the bathroom, mussing my hair and smearing my lipstick. Then I ripped the top two buttons off my almost transparent blouse, one I had neglected to put a bra on under it. You could just barely make out the two huge hickeys, one on each boob. To finish the job I pulled my already short skirt up until it just barely covered the tops of my torn stockings. I was very satisfied with my 'just fucked, hard' look, and made a dash to my car. I did manage to give a teen boy a thrill, and I drove away, laughing hysterically.

So where did the hickeys come from? My friend Vick and her wife Jaime gave them to me in a fit of drunken genius. They were helping me with my 'slut uniform', and grinned when I was done. Jaime grinned "I'd do you."

"Me too." Then Vick got that grin that had gotten us into so many wild situations in college. "You know what you need to top it off?"

"What?"

"Hickeys."

"I'm not going into work Monday with hickeys on my neck."

"Who said they had to be on your neck?" Before I could move, Vick dove down and latched onto my boob through my shirt. Jaime whooped and locked down on the other one. Then they both took a nipple in their mouth and bit down gently, then fell back, laughing hysterically. "Look at your nipples, girl! I think we got you halfway persuaded to change teams."

I didn't have to look down to know my nipples were hard as rocks. Laughing, I said, "Thanks. I think."

"Anytime you need a touchup, you let us know. We're always glad to help a friend."

"I'll keep you in mind." Then we trashed two more bottles of wine and passed out piled together on the sofa.

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I made a production of staggering into the house, carrying the five inch heels I'd bought for the occassion. Hubby's eyes went wide as he took me in. "Where the hell have you been!"

Easing down on the sofa, I pretended to wince as I sat. "Paying a bill. Now, I'm tired, sore, and I need to soak for awhile, and put lotion on a few spots. Then I'm off for bed. I'm going to call out tomorrow, I need to rest." I pulled the top off and his eyes went wide at the hickeys. I would have really like to have seen his face as I staggered up the stairs, the short skirt letting him know I was commando. I quietly giggled as I bathed, then crawled in bed and crashed. I don't know if he came to bed or not.

He was on me the next morning. "What happened?"

"Happened to what?"

His eyes rolled in exasperation. "This weekend! What did you do? Where did you go? Why did you come in last night looking like the guest of honor at a gangbang?"

"Let's refresh here. You are so addicted to gambling that you were willing to wager your wife and your marriage, sending me off like a whore to a total stranger. It's none of your business where I was or what I did. Whatever I did is on your head, so don't get all pissy with me." He was advancing and I shocked the shit out of him by punching him, hard, twisting as my fist made contact like my teacher taught me. He staggered back in surprise, blood pouring out of his mouth. As he staggered back I tossed a box of tissues. "That's for bartering my ass like a slut. We will never discuss this weekend, so don't ever ask. This is your last call, Mike. You either straighten your ass out and quit gambling or we're through. And until I say different you're sleeping in the guestroom. And don't even ask me about sex! It's going to take a while to recover, and your behavior will determine if you ever get back in bed with me. You understand that, Mike?"

Well, he could have done a lot of things. He could have hit me. He could have raised hell. What he did was break down and cry like a baby. In the end we agreed if he'd start going to Gamblers Anonymous and stay out of the bars, we could rebuild our life.

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Six months went by. Mike finally found out I hadn't been with Mr. Hansen, and was relieved, right up until Mr. Hansen paid him a visit. He went to his meetings, and had to call his sponsor twice, but as far as I know he wouldn't even get into a football pool. Our finances straightened out and we were finally starting to save for a house. I was cautiously happy for the first time in a long time. I still hadn't told him where I really was that weekend, hoping he would remember and stay on the straight and narrow.

At ten months remembering it was like remembering a bad TV show. Then Wesley called. Wesley was Mr. Hansen. How did I get to be on a first name basis? While he was forgiving, he always collected what was owed. He had a private discussion with Mike, and the upshot was he went to work for him part time. Mike had been a bartender in college, so Wesley used him when he had parties for business or pleasure, paying him 25 bucks an hour and deducting it from what he owed him. He usually worked fifteen hours a weekend, sometimes every weekend for a month. It was a bit irritating at first but I knew why he was doing it, and sometimes he came home with tips equalling what he would have been paid.

Five months before, he told Mike he would need him at the lake house for three days, for a Fourth of July party. We were on vacation for the week, even if we couldn't afford to go anywhere. It would be enough hours to finally pay off his debt, and he would be free again. I resigned myself to a long, lonely weekend. Mike left Thursday morning, and Thursday night Mr. Hansen called.

"Mrs. Howard, I feel I owe you an apology. I didn't know this was your vacation, or I'd never have booked Mike for the weekend."

"It's all right, Mr. Hansen. This will get us out of your debt and we can go back to living regular lives. I'll just rest here, sleep in, maybe do in a few bottles of wine and some steamy romance novels."

I could feel his grin over the phone. "As exciting as that sounds, I have a better idea. Come out and stay with me. I've got a guestroom you can use, and Mike doesn't work mornings or early afternoons. You could relax, take one of the boats out, fish, ski, or just ride around. Think of it as my apology for taking your husband away from you most weekends."

"That's a very enticing offer, but wouldn't it be awkward, me being a guest and him being hired help? Besides, let's not forget why he's working for you."

"Most of my guests don't wake up until noon, and nobody has to know you're husband and wife. If they see you together, well, you wouldn't be the first good looking guest that sampled the hired help."

I had a very bad thought. "Has Mike ever been sampled?"

"If he has, it hasn't been at one of my functions. I won't even let him drink, told him if I caught alcohol on his breath I was docking half his wages."

I thought that odd, because he often came home half in the bag. If Mr. Hansen didn't let him drink, where was he drinking? Wesley could be very charming when he wanted something, and it seemed important to him that I come. "All right, I'll come, but if it gets the least bit weird I'll turn around and go right back home. Understand?"

"Absolutely. We'll be having a cocktail hour tomorrow and Saturday, so be sure and bring a couple of nice dresses. I promise no harm will come to you, and if one of my other guests tries to get amourous, which happens when you mix alcohol with beautiful women, I'll handle it before it becomes embarrassing."

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I debated going right up until I packed my cases. I figured it might be a little weird with me being a guest and Mike being hired help, and I was right. Mike met me when I pulled into the parking lot of the 'house'. That's right, parking lot. The place looked more like a lodge than a home. He didn't look happy, hissing at me while he took the suitcases. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I was a little taken aback. "Well, I thought I'd come up and spend a little time with my husband, relax a little, maybe take a boat ride. Why did you think I was here?"

"I figured you were here to fuck Hansen."

If I'd connected he'd probably would have had a pretty good shiner, but he managed to duck back. "You know what, forget about it. I'm going home. And Mike, if Hansen wanted me, he'd push a lot harder than offering me a weekend with my husband. "

Mike realized he'd screwed up, and started apologising, something he seem to be doing a lot over the last year. It was getting tiresome. "I'm sorry, okay? The man's like super rich, and can afford anything he wants. How could I compete with that? He's let me off until eight tonight, so let's get you settled, and then I'll show you the lake."

I was still a little ticked. "Let it go, Mike. This isn't a cock measuring contest, this is a result of bad decisions on your part, and it's almost over. This weekend will make you square, and we can go back to a normal life."

My room was very well appointed, with a large shower and a whirlpool bath in the ensuite. So this is the life of the rich and famous. I was impressed. Then I noticed none of Mike's things were in the room. "Where's your stuff?"

I don't think he could have gotten any redder. "I'm in one of the guest cottages, with the rest of the servants." I realized this must be really chipping away at his ego.

"Well, if anyone thinks I'm not sleeping with my husband while I'm here, they will be very disappointed. You get your butt in here tonight, understand?"

After changing into shorts and a halter top, we strolled towards the boathouse. There were five boats, and three jet skis. Wow. We had to check the tag on the keys to see which we were using, and it turned out to be a fully restored 1962 mahogany Chriscraft, the brass gleaming in the sun. I knew more about boats than Mike, so I piloted us out of the boathouse, and once we got into the channel I opened the large outboard up, and that baby could fly. I laughed in sheer joy, before throttling down and turning it over to my husband. He was a lot more conservative, and fequently check the GPS in the cockpit, befoe pulling into a cove, and dropping anchor.