Deal Me In. Cynthia Thomason
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ice box,” she said. “You come to the main house in the morning and get whatever you need.” She frowned at the refrigerator. “I will take you shopping tomorrow.”
“I’d like that.”
“If you need me, we live in the smaller house just to the west. You come get me.”
Molly walked her to the door. Serafina stopped before going out. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Brady told me to tell you he would be up later for your first lesson.” She shook her head. “Poker, is it?”
Not knowing what this woman knew of her arrangement with Brady or, if she did, whether or not she approved of it, Molly hesitated before answering, “Yes, it’s poker.”
Serafina waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I guess Brady knows poker. At least that’s what they all say—Trevor and those friends of his. But I told him you must be tired and he should let you settle in tonight.”
Serafina was frowning because she was concerned about Molly’s welfare? Having grown up with criticism as part of her everyday life, Molly laughed with relief. “It’s okay. I’m always up late. Tell him to come.”
Serafina started down the stairs. “Go. Eat. You’re too skinny. And tell Brady to leave when you tire of him. He could play poker all night.”
Molly shut the door and leaned against it. Just a few minutes ago, she’d been as hungry as Sam. Now, her appetite seemed to have fled.
“This is what you want, Molly,” she said, anticipating the satisfaction of soaking up every bit of knowledge Brady had to give her. A big payoff. And revenge. She was glad she’d come to River Bluff. Brady would teach her all the tricks he’d used to humiliate Kevin, only she’d be the winner this time. She imagined Brady’s face when she finally revealed her identity to him. In the back of her mind, she could almost see Kevin grinning.
MOLLY ONLY NIBBLED at the food Serafina brought. When she’d cleaned up the dishes, she showered, tamed her hair into a loose style that fell around her shoulders and slipped into comfortable running pants and a sweatshirt. A thermometer outside the door of the apartment read forty-two degrees, uncharacteristically cool for south central Texas, even in the winter.
She tucked Sam into bed at eight-thirty and sat on the sofa to find something entertaining on television. She was staring at a reality show when her halfhearted concentration was broken by a knock at the door. The knowledge that Brady was supposed to begin her lessons had never really left her mind and she jumped up from the sofa. Her hand on the knob, she gave herself a quick pep talk. “Calm down, Molly. This is a business arrangement, an opportunity for both of you to get what you want. Don’t blow it.”
She opened the door. Brady stood on her small landing, two bottles of beer dangling between his fingers. He wore jeans, sneakers and a flannel shirt under a black leather jacket. His damp hair glistened, and he smelled faintly of pine and something subtly spicy. “Is this a bad time?” he asked.
She stood back. “No. Come in.”
He strode to the middle of the room, set the beer on the coffee table and pulled out a deck of cards. “Accommodations okay?”
“Fine.”
“I figured we might as well get started.”
“Sure.”
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