"Well?" Mark asks as he and Mr. Redmond walk into the kitchen.
Kristine shakes her head. "Becca has, according to her, the worst hangover in the history of the world, so she's not coming. Sorry, guys."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mr. Redmond shrug as Mark sighs in exasperation. "Well, what are we supposed to do then? You sort of need four people for a game day."
"Is Whitney home?" Kristine asks.
"At school," Mr. Redmond replies. I rub a dull spot on the creamer until I realize that there's an odd silence in the room. I look up to see they're all staring at me.
"How are you at cards?" Mark asks.
"Um, fine, I guess," I reply, uncomfortable with the attention.
"Mark, she's working," Kristine says.
"Yeah, for Brent," Mark replies, smiling at his friend. "So, boss man, what do you say?"
"It's up to Cora," Mr. Redmond says, looking at me. I try to read his expression, but as usual, I fail. They're all looking at me still, though, so what choice do I really have?
"Sure," I reply, standing up and putting down the cloth.
"Fantastic!" Mark exclaims as I walk over to them. He gestures for me to follow him, and we head toward the basement steps with Mr. Redmond and Kristine trailing behind us. We go down the steps and continue past the door to the wine cellar and into the main room. I can see they've got a stack of cards waiting on the felt-covered poker table.
"Kristine and I are pretty good bridge players," Mark tells me warningly as he walks to the table.
"Oh, bridge?" I ask, beginning to feel embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I don't know how to play. I thought you meant poker or something." I've only ever heard of elderly people playing bridge. Elderly people and rich people, I realize. I see Mark glance at Kristine behind me and feel a blush spread across my cheeks. I don't belong.
"Billiards, then," Mr. Redmond says from behind me, crossing to the rack of cues.
"Is that OK, Cora?" Mark asks.
"Pool's good," I reply with a little smile.
"Kristine and I versus you two, then," Mark says, walking over to get a cue. "Should we make it interesting?" he asks Mr. Redmond. I notice my boss looking at me, and I give him the barest of nods. His eyes light up a little and he grins at Mark.
"Sure. If you win, you can pick any bottle from my wine cellar," he says.
"And if you win…we'll finish polishing that silver tea set," Mark replies, winking at me.
"Sound fair to you, Cora?" Mr. Redmond asks.
"I guess," I reply, trying to sound reluctant.
"Mark, you know I'm not very good at pool," Kristine protests as Mr. Redmond racks the balls.
"That's OK. I always beat Brent," Mark replies.
"Always might be overstating it," Mr. Redmond says with a smile.
"Three out of four games," Mark says.
"You can break," Mr. Redmond says to his friend, stepping back from the table as I take a cue from the rack. He walks over to me as Mark lines up his shot. "I hope I interpreted that nod correctly," he whispers to me.
"How much is your most expensive bottle in that cellar?" I whisper back.
"Somewhere north of twenty-thousand," he murmurs.
I stare at him. "Well, then, I hope so, too." I feel a jolt of nerves as I watch Mark line up his second shot. He sunk his first ball, stripes, when he was breaking, and now he sinks another. He lines up his third shot, and just barely misses.
"You go ahead," Mr. Redmond murmurs to me and I step forward, circling around the table toward the cue ball. I had been feeling so confident until he told me how much was actually on the line. I didn't even know wine could be that expensive. I take a deep breath and remind myself that the amount of money that these rich guys are betting doesn't actually have any effect on my skill set. And I saw Mark's technique, he's good, but I'm better.
I bend over, eyeing the solid 7 ball near the corner pocket. Easy shot. I feel my dress uniform riding up against the backs of my thighs, and wish I were wearing my old, worn-in jeans. I bring back the cue and smoothly pocket the 7 ball.
"Ooo, nice shot," Kristine says.
"Thanks," I reply with a smile as I make my way around the table again. I make quick work of the 4 and 2 balls, and hear Mark moan as I bounce the cue ball off the side to sink the 3 ball.
"Oh my god, you brought in a ringer!" he exclaims to Mr. Redmond.
"I hired her for her billiard skills," Mr. Redmond says with a smile at me. "It's been one long con, but I've finally lured you into playing a game."
"How'd you get so good?" Kristine asks as the 1 ball drops into a side pocket.