"Hey, I know you," Mike said to Peter. "I saw you on the World Poker Roundup! You made it to the final table four years ago."
Now Griffen turned to stare. The Asian man smiled modestly.
"Yes, I did," he said. "I did not win, though."
"You still took home a big purse. Over 350k, if I recall."
"That's right."
Jerome clapped his hands. "Well, we've got us a celebrity."
"Welcome," Griffen said. "It's an honor to have you at one of my games."
"Your games?" the man echoed.
"I'm Griffen McCandles. This is my operation. Thought I'd deal myself in today."
"Oh!" Peter seemed taken aback. "Well, it's a pleasure for me, then, too. This is a very nice arrangement you have. Five hundred."
He threw in his chips, and the game went on.
Griffen was curious to watch a professional at work. Peter had very neat movements, no wasted energy. His expression, when he was not chatting with the others, became a friendly grin. It was disarming, but Griffen knew better than to believe the surface appearance. He could sense dragon blood in Peter and wondered if he knew he had it.
At the hour, Noah dumped the current deck and smiled at the players. "Five minutes' break, please, gentlemen," he said.
"Hey, so what's it like playing cards for a living?" Mike asked Peter, as they got up to stretch.
Griffen went to load up on snacks from the chafing dishes on the caterer's table. He liked the suites in the Omni. Unlike some of the chains, the paintings weren't bolted to the wall, or the lamps to the desk. Hospitality meant not treating your guests like potential thieves, even though it meant that the ones who were took your towels home with them.
"Hey, man," Jerome said, appearing at his elbow. "Thanks for helpin' out."
"Happy to do it," Griffen said. "You handle so much. It's the least I can do. Any more flak from that game?"
They both knew what he meant. The cheating scandal. It still rankled with both of them. Jerome shook his head.
"No one's called it in to the police. Luis started talkin' about it at another game. The dealer had to ask him privately to knock it off, but you know how that guy loves to tell stories. No peep out of Len and Marion, but maybe they want to lie low."
"I can hardly believe that they would cheat," Griffen said, feeling at a loss. "Those two have been coming down here for years. I've played with him. He's cagey, but he's straight as they come. Almost pathologically honest. Mose said last time they were here they forgot to give one dealer a tip. They sent a money order from Toronto."
Jerome pressed his lips together. "I know, man. It's got to be the other one, the one who kicked up the fuss. Jordan Ma, I think his name was. I don't know how it happened. He must have noticed the missing card stuck under Marion's arm and made capital out of it. Kitty, the dealer, is too new. She's freaked out being in the middle of that. I'm gonna ride herd on her for the next few times. She won't have to deal for that man again. We have a couple of experienced dealers who can handle accusations of cheating or horseplay."
"Maybe I'll bring everyone together for a seminar," Griffen said. "We have to keep our reputation straight. It's all that we've got." A painful memory struck him. "Speaking of that, I had to let Jimmy McGill go."
"I thought that boy looked too furtive," Jerome said. "What was with him?"
"He was dealing cocaine for Tee-Bo on the side. I told him when he started that I don't allow a sideline in drugs anywhere in our operation. I gave Tee-Bo a call. He didn't know that Jimmy was working for us, either. I called Jimmy in and told him to choose which employer he wanted to stick with."
Jerome shook his head. "He gave you a sob story, didn't he? Grifter, you can't be soft on them, or they'll just walk on you!"
"I wasn't," Griffen said, feeling terrible about it all over again. "He claimed it was all a lie. I knew it wasn't. It was the second time I had caught him. I gave him another chance after he begged me to keep him. This time I fired him. I don't think Jimmy's going to be working for either of us again."
"You didn't have a choice, head dragon," Jerome said, gently punching him in the arm. "You got to do what's right and keep things straight."
Reputation was everything in the Quarter, where so many deals were sealed with a handshake. Griffen had vowed to be honest with everyone. He didn't want illegal drugs associated with his games. He had made it clear to all the employees in the operation from day one, and to everyone he had hired since he started. He knew what it had been like not all that long ago. Mose had turned a blind eye to the junk. Maybe there were other land mines that Griffen hadn't found yet. This would be strictly a gambling operation. There was plenty of money for everyone in that alone. If they wanted to do something even more illegal, Griffen wanted no part of it.
"Hey, if you have a few more games for me to sit in on, I'll play," Griffen said, as Noah called them back. "Mardi Gras is going to run me dry on capital."
"You're not supposed to be takin' profit directly from our clients," Jerome said dryly. "But I think a lot of them would be thrilled to have the big man sit in on a game. Just don't take 'em for too much."
"Me?" Griffen asked, planting a hand on his chest. Trying to keep the innocent expression on his face made them both laugh.
They returned to the table. The dealer, Noah, did a fancy shuffle on the new deck of cards. "What's your pleasure, gentlemen?"
"Texas hold 'em," said Peter. Griffen didn't groan, though he felt like it. The man seemed to pick up on his displeasure anyhow. He peered at Griffen apologetically. "You don't like hold 'em?"
"I'm old-fashioned about poker," Griffen said, startled. No wonder the guy was a professional. He could read minds. "I like the old games, even five-card stud."
"More possibilities of a working hand with hold 'em," Peter Sing said.
"Statistically, you are right," Griffen agreed. "I didn't mean to denigrate your choice. You are the guest. And you've had a lot more experience than I have. I only played in college before I came here."
"No offense taken. It's natural you have a preference. But," he said, appealing to the businessmen from Detroit, "it's my game. Shall we play?"
"Oh, yeah!" said Ellis, grinning.
Noah produced a white plastic button two inches across and put it in front of Peter. "Ten-dollar bets, blinds one hundred and two hundred."
The table anted up, and Noah dealt.
It seemed seconds later when Ellis looked at his watch and nudged his colleague. "Got to go back. Damm it. Wish we could stay."
"Me, too," Mike said. "I'd like to have had a chance to get back some of my stake." He grinned at Peter. "But it was worth it to have had a chance to play with a real pro. Too cool. Listening to tabulations of sales figures and projections for next year is just not going to cut it. Probably fall asleep during the presentations."
The man with the cockscomb hair was the big winner, having taken about a quarter of the money on the table. Griffen was next, having made a little less than 20 percent on his investment. He was fairly happy. You couldn't get that from the stock market. The businessmen had both lost money.
"Sorry you didn't do as well as you hoped," Griffen said.
Ellis was gracious. "Not to a couple of players like you. It was an education."
"We'll definitely get our buddies in," Mike promised. "Perhaps a room like this, with double tables? Mr. Sing, will you come?"