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too hipster for Ridley’s taste.
    Link would’ve made fun of this guy.
    He held out a tattooed hand. “Sampson.”
    This guy looked more like Goliath.
    “Ridley.”
    He smiled. “I heard.”
    “Tonight or previously?” Rid asked, only half-joking.
    “I’m Ace.” The drummer, and her opponent, stared at her from across the table like a lion eyeing raw meat. She was going to enjoy kicking his ass.
    “Of course you are.” Ridley rolled her eyes.
    “Now, if everyone has decided who they’re taking home tonight, we’ve got a game to play,” the dealer said, cutting the cards.
    Rid watched him shuffle, the king of blood and the ace of fire flipping through his fingers. Floyd and the pretty-boy punk with the blue faux-hawk stood behind Ace.
    For the first few rounds, no one spoke as the two players sized each other up. Ridley was biding her time, waiting for just the right moment to make her move. She was also testing the waters, determining exactly how hard she needed to push Ace. When he hesitated too long after dropping two cards into the pile, Ridley gave him a little nudge.
You can get away with one more. Go ahead and throw it.
He tossed the card within seconds.
    It was on his next turn that he made a fatal mistake and blew her a kiss.
    “Seven. Eight,” Ridley said, dropping her last two cards facedown on the discard pile.
    Ace gave her one of his perverted smiles. “You wouldn’t be lying now, would you, Baby?”
    Ridley’s eyes narrowed. She tolerated it when Link called her Babe, because he was Link and things were… complicated between them. But there was no way this scumbag was going to get away with calling her Baby. “Are you calling me a liar, or just asking? I mean, either you have the balls or you don’t.”
    The dealer stifled a laugh.
    “Someone should teach you how to act like a lady,” Ace snapped.
    Ridley leaned over, the edge of a red bra peeking out of her top, and looked the second-rate drummer right in the eye. “I’ll get right on that. As soon as someone teaches you how to act like a man.”
    Ace stared at her like he wanted to set her on fire.
    Ridley gazed into his gold eyes.
You know I’m lying. Go ahead. Call me a liar.
    It only took a second for him to react. “Liar.”
    She leaned back in her chair, savoring the moment. “You must’ve bet something major to make it all the way to the big girl table. What are you going to lose if I flip those cards and I’ve got a seven and an eight?”
    Floyd was standing behind Ace’s chair. “Shit.”
    Sampson glanced up at his bandmate. “What did he bet?”
    The color drained from Ace’s face, as if he had just figured out what Floyd seemed to sense. Ridley wasn’t lying.
    Floyd shook her head. “His sticks.”
    Ridley immediately understood. The crappy drummer had bet his talent—at least, what little he had. If he lost, he wouldn’t be able to play anymore. Which wouldn’t be a huge loss, from Ridley’s point of view.
    She flipped the cards over one at a time.
    Seven of stars and eight of blades.
    Ace sprang out of his chair, and Sampson yanked her from hers before the drummer overturned the table. “You bitch!”
    The dealer signaled one of the bouncers lurking along the edges of the room. “Get him outta here.”
    Even though Sampson had rescued her, he looked almost as pissed off as Floyd, who was pacing and cussing under her breath. The punk boy with the blue faux-hawk gave her a hard stare and whispered something to Sampson.
    “Pull it together, ladies,” the dealer shouted at everyone left in the room. “We’ve got one more game to play.”
    Ridley tried to look nervous, but fear wasn’t an emotion she experienced often. The effort was exhausting, and she dropped down into a chair at the black felt table. There was a lot of money on the line, enough to let her hole up in her favorite five-star resort in Barbados for weeks. Close enough to visit a few relatives, and far enough away to get twenty-four-hour