His Frozen Heart (4 page)

Libby actually batted her eyes. She
shouldn’t have because it made her look disingenuous. Her voice was
sweet as she answered, “It’s always for fun. Some times are just
more enjoyable than others.”

Chris wasn’t budging as he pointed
toward the exit. “There’s the door. Feel free to use it if you have
anything beyond a friendly game of pool in mind.”

She leaned up on the bar, so far up
that her toes were barely on the floor as she balanced her body
weight with her forearms. She leaned all the way across the bar and
put her mouth right up against Chris’s ear. Although she whispered,
I could still hear her words, “Twenty bucks if you look the other
way.”

He pushed her face away from his ear
and shot her a glare. “Twenty?” He looked around the bar, then
quietly answered, “If any of these chumps complain, it’s my job. I
have to eat, too.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not taking
the title to anyone’s car. We just need groceries.”

She held his glare. I wondered if
something more had happened between them? It wasn’t like him to
hold a grudge. His eyes darted to the floor while he considered her
words. When he finally looked back at Libby, he nodded his head.
“Fine. Twenty bucks. You’ve got fifteen minutes, that’s
it.”

Her victory smile emerged, “I need
forty-five.”

Chris scowled and looked at me. I
answered his scowl with a smile, quietly adding, “She needs to play
at least three games, maybe four.”

Yes, there was a psychology to taking
someone’s money in a bar. “Taking” was the wrong word: convincing
them to wager with us. Libby was great at it. She let them know she
had moves, but never ran the table in the beginning. It was a
series of, “I can’t believe I just made that shot!” or “I wish I
had a video of that one,” or one of my all-time favorites, “Have
you ever lost to two girls?”

She always dressed for the part, too,
choosing attire that would make her opponents pay more attention to
her than to the game. This was the only part that bothered me: some
of her outfits covered less than a bikini. I wouldn’t so much care
if it were just her, but she insisted I wear the same sort of
uniform regardless of the temperatures outside.

Within one game she could size up who
would be willing to part with some money. She always threw the
second game, then would offer to bet on the third. Usually, whoever
she was talking to was so enamored with her, they weren’t even
concentrating on the game.

Chris reached over and put his hand on
my forearm, “Forty-five minutes, not a second more.”

Libby had the green light she needed
and didn’t waste one second of it. She went to table four where the
two guys were still playing. I didn’t have to hear her to know she
was successful. The shorter of the two stood up from his shot and
slid all the balls into the center of the table, put coins in to
retrieve the balls which had already gone in and began re-racking.
She motioned for me to come over.

I set the last chicken bone down on
the plate, smiled at Chris, and said, “Wish me luck.”

Chapter 3

The tall guy with the bad case of acne
kept his eyes averted, preferring instead to look at the pool table
rather than watch my approach. I wasn’t dressed as skimpily as
Libby, but I knew the skirt and boots I had on normally drew men’s
eyes to me. I smiled at him as I approached to introduce myself,
“Hi, I’m Candy.”

His eyes roved from the pool table,
down to my boots and shyly made their way up to mine. He looked
nervous, as if two women didn’t normally invite themselves over to
play a game of pool with him. His answer was stiff,
“Tony.”

Libby beamed from across the table,
“That should be easy to remember, Teddy and Tony,” as she gestured
to the shorter man closer to her, letting me know his name, then
she introduced me to Teddy, “This is my friend, Candy.”

The first game went quickly. Teddy
racked, Libby broke, and she put four balls into the pocket. Teddy
took their first turn and dropped five. I put in two and Tony sunk
one. There were only three balls left on the table, and Libby won
without even having to do any fancy bank shots.

Teddy leaned toward Libby, his eyes
glued to her outfit as if he were an inspector in a sweat shop.
“Damn, that was fast. You two want to play again?”

Libby smiled, “Sure, we don’t have to
be anywhere for a half hour.”

Teddy’s curiosity was piqued, “Where
are you two off to? A date?”

Libby dismissed the idea brazenly, “On
a Tuesday night? No. Candy has a test she has to study for. I
promised if she came out with me to play a couple games, I’d make
dinner so she could study.”

Close enough to the truth not to raise
suspicion. Teddy eyed me, “A test? You’re in college?”

It was a fair question. Libby and I
were both twenty, so we didn’t drink, at least not in bars. We
looked young enough that we could easily be jail bait, so good for
him for checking to make sure I wasn’t in high school.

I nodded, “Yeah, my sophomore
year.”

His attention turned back to Libby,
“So, you two stay in the dorms?”

Libby flirt-punched him, “No, we have
a house on the east side of town. High school was enough for me. I
work.”

Tony had quietly racked the balls
without asking if we wanted to play again. Teddy gestured to the
table, his eyes fixed on Libby, “It’s your table. You’re going to
play us again so we can get it back, right?”

I felt eyes on me from across the
room. I turned expecting to see Chris staring our way, but was
surprised to see a different set of eyes watching me. It took me a
second to place who they belonged to: Dave Brewer leaned up against
a wall. I hadn’t seen him since the summer after we graduated. Dave
was stalky, tall, but built solid. He was wearing dark blue jeans,
a black t-shirt stretched taut across his chest, and black boots. I
held up my hand in a half wave, but he didn’t return my wave or nod
in my direction or anything. That was odd. The two of us hadn’t
kept in touch after high school, but we were good friends our
senior year. I wanted to go over and say hi, but Libby would blow a
gasket if I did.

I couldn’t help but steal glances in
his direction: each time I looked his way, he was staring at me.
Dave had changed a lot since high school. He had been stringy and
awkward looking, but he had filled out the last couple years. Libby
shot me a warning glance reminding me I needed to stick to the
routine. She broke again, but this time she only got three balls
in. Teddy sunk six. I put in one, Tony dropped one, and it was her
turn again. We still had three balls on the table, Teddy and Tony
were on the eight ball, Libby made it look good but missed her
shot. Before I had a chance to shoot again, the men had
won.

So far we were seriously keeping to
Chris’s original timeframe. We’d been playing with them for less
than ten minutes. Libby went into shark-mode, “You two got lucky.
If I hadn’t missed that last one, you’d be racking again,” she
challenged.

Teddy answered in a self-deprecating
way, “I know. You’re pretty good.”

Damn, I hated it when she took money
from nice guys. I actually kind of liked it when she took money
from the cocky ones. After all the chicken wings from Chris, I
wasn’t nearly as desperate for manicotti. She answered slyly, “I
think your luck’s about to change. We’ve got time for one more
before we have to leave.”

Stroking his pool cue slowly, Teddy
argued, “One more? Come on, you two just got here.”

Libby shook her head, “Nope, I
promised.”

Attempting to barter for our company,
Teddy suggested, “If you’re so sure my luck’s about to change, how
about if we win this next one, the two of you have to stay and
play.”

Libby raised an eyebrow. “Really? What
makes you so sure you can beat us?”

He tipped an invisible hat and put on
a slow-southern drawl, “Darlin’, this ain’t my first
rodeo.”

Libby smirked, “Pretty confident. So,
if you win, we stay and play, if we win we leave? That’s the worst
bet I’ve ever heard.”

Teddy’s cocky nature reared its head
when he countered, “Name your price, Sweetheart.”

Watching Libby shark was a thing of
beauty. She was reeling them in, “If you win, we’ll stay and play
another game, but if we win, you make it worth our while. Fifty
dollars.”

Teddy’s surprise registered. “That’s
pretty steep.”

“
Only if you’re going to
lose.”

Teddy shook his head. “You’re
serious?”

“
Yes.”

Teddy eyed Libby more cautiously. “If
I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to take advantage
of me and my little brother here.”

Libby set her cue on the table, “Never
mind, Candy and I can go.”

He held up both of his hands with his
palms facing Libby, “Now, I didn’t say the two of you had to go.
But I’m not willing to lay down fifty bucks for the pleasure of
anyone’s company – well, at least not for their company in a bar.
You want to bet money, the wager is equal on both
sides.”

Libby gave her innocent smile, “Okay,
fifty bucks on both sides.”

Tony shook his head at Teddy, but
Teddy wasn’t budging. Teddy pulled out his wallet and took a crisp
fifty dollar bill and laid it on the table. Libby’s eyes got big
when she scolded, “Put that away! Gambling is a quick way to get
tossed out.” Her voice softened as she added, “I know you’re good
for it. Put it back in your wallet.”

Teddy did as instructed, but grabbed
his cue. “I’ll break.”

Libby didn’t even get a turn. Teddy
ran the table, sinking all of his balls and the eight. Shit, we
barely had enough gas to get to the bar. We didn’t have the fifty
we now owed Teddy.

Before Teddy had an opportunity to
gloat, Libby offered, “Double or nothing.”

Teddy shook his head in a
condescending way, “Sweetheart, you aren’t going to
win.”

Tony walked over to where I stood, his
voice low, “Hey, don’t let your friend get suckered in. Teddy’s
really good. He sharks all the time. Tell her to cut her losses and
walk away.”

I looked at him incredulously. Was he
serious? If these two were pulling the same stunt Libby and I were,
then his warning would get him in all kinds of trouble with Teddy.
Tony was Teddy’s decoy, but unlike me, he had a conscience about
who they took money from. How many times had I seen Libby take some
hard-working stiff for every penny he had? I’d never once given one
a warning. Damn.

I had to play naïve – that was my job,
“Really?” I countered, “Libby’s pretty good.”

“
Not good enough. Tell her
to walk away.” Tony looked me square in the eye as if embarrassed
at how badly his partner would beat us on the pool
table.

I couldn’t believe what I had heard.
There was no way I was letting on that we were trying to play them
either, so I asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

“
Teddy’s my brother. He’s a
jerk and has a real gambling problem. When he sees dollar signs, he
turns into a different guy. Just have her pay up and get out of
here.”

I didn’t share Tony’s warning with
Libby, and I didn’t share with Tony that we didn’t have the money
to cover the loss. Libby racked again, and Teddy did it a second
time. Two shut out games in a row. I started to get worried,
because in all our games, since we were juniors in high school,
we’d never run across another team like ourselves. Libby and I now
owed him a hundred dollars. Shit, this was so not how tonight was
supposed to go down.

Libby walked over to Teddy and
flirtatiously put her hand on his chest, “Double or nothing again.
You at least have to let me shoot.”

“
I can do this all night,
Sweetheart. You sure you want to go for two hundred? You got that
much on you?”

“
I’ve got it.” No she
didn’t, but I kept my mouth shut, as she racked for a fifth
game.

After the third shutout I began
sweating. Not like little beads of sweat, but the “Oh, my God, she
was gambling with our rent money – that she didn’t have” kind of
sweat. I tapped her on the shoulder, drawing her attention away
from the table. I whispered low to keep Teddy and Tony from
hearing. “That’s it, Libby. You can’t do it again. You don’t have
four hundred dollars.”

Confidently she smirked, “I don’t need
it. Watch this.”

She racked for the sixth game, Teddy
had sunk four of the balls and looked like he was focusing as if
his life depended on the fifth.

Libby innocently stood behind the
pocket he was aiming at and dropped her pool cue on the floor. The
sound of the cue hitting the floor distracted him for a fraction of
a second. In that fraction of time he saw her bend down to retrieve
it, and I heard music to my ears. A good shot had a solid sound to
it: Teddy had been distracted enough to miscue.

Libby didn’t play with him. When she
bent over the table, she ran it. She had won the game before Tony
or I even had a chance to shoot.