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Authors note: Due to some feedback on previous chapters of this story, I will be going back and working on re-building my behind the scenes notes for this story. Readers of the story will know that I lost a hard drive and had no back up, which caused me to lose several chapters as well as all of my notes about the story. Because of this, my next chapter may be delayed as I work on rebuilding the notes needed to keep inconsistencies out of the story. Once that is complete I will go back and work on rewriting the previous chapters slowly over time to smooth out any inconsistencies. I hope that my readers appreciate this attention to detail, and understand that I do this in order to provide the highest quality story I can. My apologies for those of you who would rather not wait, but my free time is limited unfortunately. Finally I ask that anyone who has a problem with inconsistencies in the chapters, please feel free to send me feedback via the website's form:
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-Rhev
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After Cheyenne's visit, things began moving very fast. Emily Whitefeld was very impressed with the new magical spell that I'd invented that would streamline my method of mind reading the people I was playing cards with. It turned out to be pretty flawless once I remembered that I had to carefully monitor the distance of the people I was 'reading' at any given time. Trying to read an entire table full of poker players, eight people at a time, was very difficult, but doable. The trickiest part was remembering to dismiss the spell if the person got up to use the bathroom or walk away. As soon as I got more than a few dozen feet away from someone that I had cast the spell on, the drain on my mana reserves became problematic very quickly. Re-casting the spell was a little time consuming, but Emily and I worked on how I could do that while seeming to consider my cards.
She admitted that she was very impressed that I'd seemed to create a brand new spell, though she admitted that she knew little about mental magic. But in her experience only the most powerful or well trained mages tried to create new spells from scratch, and she informed me of how dangerous it was. After the disaster in the elevator that left me no doubt of the danger of experimenting with what Emily called 'wild' magic. I vowed to be much more careful with such experiments in the future, especially after she told me horror stories about mages who'd 'burned out' and were nothing more than lobotomized husks that sat around drooling and giggling to themselves.
Things had been strange between Cheyenne and Erin. Both women had been pleasant and respectful to each other, but I also got the sense that they were two animals circling each other, sizing the other up and ready to pounce. I understood it from Cheyenne, she was growing very strong feelings for me, but was surprised to see Erin's reaction was almost the same. I wondered if she wasn't also developing feelings. I would have explored it further, but as I said, things began moving very fast and I became quite busy.
Since the magic was down, Emily began teaching me strategy. This wasn't magic, this was just the pure art of poker playing. Pacing myself seemed to be the name of the game in Emily's book. The experts, which I was certainly not one of, would try to draw me out. They would bet big after I'd committed to my hand in order to draw out my chips if I didn't have a winning hand. That was one thing I learned, that just because I'd already committed thousands of dollars to a pot, I needed to be willing to dump it and walk away from a hand if I wasn't certain I was going to win. Playing conservatively was going to win me the tournament, not luck, not boldness, and not even my magic. Since the tournament was going to be no limit, the other players were going to be aggressive, very aggressive.
Emily even explained that there was an entire theory about this called Aggression theory. Aggression theory said that playing defensively in a tournament like this was actually an easy way to bleed out slowly. That the aggressive player actually had the advantage in a straight up hold em tournament. This theory related to the fact that the aggressive players would likely control the table, but that wasn't always a winning strategy as long as I didn't let them scare me. Playing defensively and waiting for the right hand would give me a chance to maximize my advantage. That advantage of course was my magic. Emily knew about my ability to see the other players cards, but I still hadn't revealed that I'd picked up her talent for manipulating random chance and letting the card I wanted most, be the most likely to be drawn next.
That was my other advantage as well. If I played defensively, I'd appear to be a weak player and that would draw out the aggressive players, who would bet big on a marginal hand, hoping I'd fold out. Emily was betting that between my magic and the fact that I'd be able to push back against chip bullies the exact moment that my hand would beat theirs, I'd be unstoppable, even with the host's facial recognition software.
So that's how the next few days went, with Emily constantly trying to push me around the table with some other players, showing me the time to call, to fold, and when to recognize the difference. I wasn't going to fool people for long, and 'luck' would only go so far as an excuse. But the worst part was how the other players, the dealers and friends of Emily responded to my play. If I used my magic too much, they knew something was up. I'm sure they never would have guessed in a thousand years that I was using magical mind reading spells to know what cards they had in their hand, but they knew that something was up.
Jamie, the pit boss that would sit in on some of our games in my room, was the first to call it. "You know kid," he would say, always calling me 'kid' because I was only twenty one by all appearances, "I don't know what's up with your play. Sometimes I think you're a fish, other times you're a rock the way you never bleed, and then there are times that you come out like a real pro, and you've only lost significantly when you suck out a good pocket. I haven't figured you out yet, but there's something up with your play style." Then turning to Emily he added, "and the pros are going to tear him up if he doesn't get more consistent. They'll all fire down on him just because he's too much a wild card."
Emily nodded. I didn't even understand all the terms, but I got the gist of what Jamie was saying. He was saying sometimes I played like a total new player, other times I was too conservative, not betting when I should, and finally there were times when I played like a pro. Of course it was those times that I knew the cards of everyone at the table. The thing that was really affecting my play was the randomness of the cards as they came out. He mentioned 'sucking out' and I learned that meant when I had a good hand, but the flop, turn, or river fucked me. For example, one hand I had pocket aces and the next best hand belonged to Emily who had a queen jack suited. She stayed in, and the flop had a jack, then the river had a queen and her two pair beat my single pair of aces.
It was very hard to 'read' Emily. As a mage and also as she called herself a 'lifelong poker player' she had an unreadable poker face, and that discipline extended to her mental shielding. It wasn't perfect but it was enough to fool me a good part of the time. The only thing that made it tolerable was that Emily assured me that of the players that had gotten an invite to this particular poker tournament there were no mages that she knew of.
I was getting very annoyed and frustrated at this whole deal and beginning to wonder if I hadn't made a mistake in accepting Emily's invite. Sure, we'd agreed on 25% of the winnings, minus her initial investment if I won. First place would take home seven and a half million, which once she'd taken her cut would be seven flat. So if I could manage to take home first place would be a payment of one and three quarters of a million dollars for me. That was an outstanding chunk of change, and I knew professional poker players that 'worked' the circuit that couldn't boast that level of winnings in their lifetime, let alone one single game. It was a huge carrot on a stick that was driving me forwards. But that was only if I'd actual won first place. I had to consider that I wouldn't. I'd make a little money even if I took second or third, and while there were cash payouts down to seventh place, they wouldn't be enough for me to have made any money. But even if I took 2nd place my payout from Emily would drop from one and three quarters of a million down to three hundred and seventy five thousand. But I was starting to question if I would be able to even make that spot. The fact was that I just wasn't a poker pro, and that I'd be going against some of the richest and best players in the world in a very small, intimate setting where the host was using technology that would help him to win.
Feeling the press of a headache with only two nights left before the tournament, I was highly doubting my ability to pull this off, and I think, so was Emily. I begged for the rest of the evening off, and Emily and the card players left my suite. I opened the door to the other half of the suite where Erin sat chatting and drinking wine with a fellow working girl. I hadn't caught this one's name, but she was a cute petite girl with a heart shaped face and hair that was so white blonde that my first reaction was that it was very likely a wig.
Erin had been bringing up 'guests' to entertain me ever since the day Cheyenne had come for a visit. My original contract with Emily Whitefeld had called for two girls to be available to me, though for the first few days it had been only Erin. But when Erin had walked in on Cheyenne and myself cuddled up, sleeping, something had changed in her a little bit. Before that, she'd been giving me a real GFE, girl friend experience. I think that she might have been buying into the fantasy too, she may have really been considering me as a prospect for a serious relationship. But seeing some other woman cuddled in my arms as we slept made her realize that she was, in the end, a prostitute hired to service me for the entire week.