This chapter has more lead up than usual before people get down to business as it goes over how the spa functions.
It would help understanding going forward if readers were familiar with how poker works, specifically Texas Hold'em and five card draw.
Enjoy
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Cyn spend the rest of the week obsessing over Friday. She began by trying to get whatever she could out of her roommate, but by Tuesday morning Robin nearly yelled at her.
"Stop!" she'd said when they were both in the dorm. "No questions, no trying to trick me, no hinting, just stop. If you don't respect this you aren't getting in. Until Friday, don't say a word or you can forget it."
That angle of investigation closed, she focused on the only other piece of evidence she had: the poker chip. Cyn had been to casinos in several countries but she hadn't really been to the casino floors; in the US she was too young and other than that she was usually more interested in the pools or shops around them. Money wasn't something she thought of, so what was the thrill of gambling?
But now she figured she needed to take an interest. Unfortunately she found hundreds of sites that could make custom poker chips like the one she held, and the chip had no manufacturer's mark for her to narrow it down. She didn't know what she hoped that would tell her anyway, but it would have been something.
With the hints both Robin and Vincent had dropped, she assumed playing cards, and probably betting on them, was going to be a part of this. She spent the rest of the week reading up on card games, particularly casino ones. She assumed they didn't do "house" games like Blackjack because that would mean someone was guaranteed to win a lot of the time. She didn't expect to become a poker expert in three days, but she didn't want to walk in looking like an idiot.
Finally, Friday arrived. Robin had disappeared in the morning after they both got up and never came back to the room. Cyn only had two classes on Friday in the morning, so she was frantic with anticipation. She jogged around campus with Vicky to try to blow off steam, but she ended up annoying her friend because she was obviously distracted and wouldn't tell her why.
"Well, call me when you've fucked him and gotten it out of your system," Vicky snapped at the end of the run. Cyn almost laughed, wondering how much of Vicky's barb was true.
Cyn showered, shaved everything except her head, and added perfume. She agonized over what to wear but remembering Robin's outfit, she went with fashionable but non-descript; tight jeans, and an understated designer top. She did wear sneakers, however; she'd followed Robin on foot for at least a half a mile last week so she wanted to be ready.
At seven o'clock, Robin came in. She was dressed similarly to Cyn but seemed all business. She didn't even say hello, just said, "In or out?"
"In." Cyn said
"Numbers?" Robin asked, ready to put them into her phone.
Cyn rattled off the numbers and her access PIN for her trust fund account. Robin seemed to record and send them to someone, then she waited. Cyn wanted to ask what was happening, but every time she made to speak, Robin held her hand up. They stayed in the silent stalemate for nearly ten minutes, then Robin smiled up at her.
"All right honey, we're in business. Let's go."
Cyn congratulated herself for the sneaker choice as she followed Robin around campus. They didn't walk quite as far as the last Saturday but it was at least a quarter mile. At the end, Vincent was standing next to an Audi sedan, apparently waiting for them.
"Ladies," he said, opening the door as if he were a chauffer. Robin smiled and scrambled in, sliding across to the far side so Cyn could get in.
"I'm very glad you chose to join us," Vincent said to her as she got to the door.
"I had a persuasive invitation," Cyn responded quietly. As she sat she saw another male student in the shotgun seat.
He waved and said, "Carl Eversa." Carl had a South African accent and dark skin. It was hard to tell while they were sitting in the dark, but he didn't seem to have the height or build of Vincent. Vincent got in and drove. The ride was silent and took about fifteen minutes. At the end of it, Vincent pulled into the driveway of a nice, older style house. It was large in the grand scheme of houses, but nowhere near what most of Veretrum's students would have thought of as a place to live.
"Six bedrooms," Vincent said when they got out, "three thousand square feet, sitting on a quarter acre of land. For California, I got it at a good price.
"This is yours?" Cyn asked.
Vincent shrugged. "I paid for it. The spa uses it and will continue to after I'm gone, I hope," he said.
"Spa?" Cyn asked.
"In a moment. Let's go in."
Inside, the main living room was carpeted and had two sofas spaced oddly far apart but facing each other. No other furniture or decoration was set out. Cyn could see the kitchen through an opening. Wood and undecorated walls seemed to be the main theme. Vincent led her through the living room, pointing out the bathroom just off the kitchen, and then opened a door that led to a descending staircase.
As soon as she entered, Cyn knew the basement was where all of the focus had gone in money, style, and decoration. Plush carpet spread from wall to wall, and the furniture around the edges was much higher quality, featuring easy chairs, love seats and coffee tables. The wall had a small shelf around the edge like half of a bar counter, and the upper part of the wall had dark maroon buttoned padding, adding to the "upscale bar" motif. The lighting was low everwhere except the center of the large room where a green felt, oval card table with padded edges sat under the bright light of two hanging lamps. Behind it was a bar, though much of it seemed given over to what looked like filing cabinets and organizing trays rather than alcohol. There was still booze, but not an extensive variety. A dealer stood at the table, but Cyn could tell immediately by his demeanor he was an employee and dismissed him. She looked around for others. She guessed there were between ten and twenty people in the room. All of them were students at Veretrum that she could remember seeing at one point, and she thrilled when she realized they were all part of her mental "A-list" of the student body.
"Spa goers," Vincent said as they entered, "We have a new player."
He nudged Cynthia forward and she stepped into the light. She went for a mix of demure and confident, hoping to be seen as both someone who was supposed to be here, but also not a threat.
From behind her, Carl then said, "Low stakes game begins in one hour. Chip exchange remains closed for instruction. Sit-out fee is thirty."
As if that was some sort of signal, many of the people in the room started moving with more purpose, and Cyn caught flashes of more poker chips in people's hands. Robin was one of those people, moving around the room, but Carl and Vincent turned to her.
"Carl here is going to answer all the questions you've been trying to get out of Robin this week," Vincent said.
Cyn blushed, "She told you about that?"
"Among other things," Vincent said cryptically. Cyn's blush deepened as she wondered if Robin mentioned finding Cyn after her solo adventure.
