It was a mixed blessing. It was the first time, in four years of weekly poker games, that Doug wasn't one of the first to fold. Unfortunately, he only had enough money left to ante up, and Harlan was playing for blood tonight. Doug had to resort to offering services, but he was already running dry by the third bet.
Frank dealt the fourth cards. "Bet."
"Fifty," Harlan said, throwing another bill on the stack.
"Hook up you car stereo," Doug said, throwing his I.O.U. on the pile.
Frank dealt the final cards. "Bet."
"Fifty."
"Damn, I can't think of anything else."
Harlan took a drag on his cigarette. He fixed Doug with a baleful look of his crisp, blue eyes.
"I have an idea."
A phantom chill took Doug. "Okay . . . "
Harlan leaned back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on Doug's.
"A month with your wife."
Doug's eyes widened with disbelief. Frank began to laugh.
"You've got a weird sense of humor, Gunn."
"I'm absolutely serious."
The room fell silent.
"You've got to be out of your mind," Doug said.
"Maybe so, but it doesn't look like you have anything left to bargain with."
"Oh, come on, Harlan. Be fair."
"There's a lot of money in that pot; I think I'm being totally fair."
"This is my wife you're talking about!"
"And if I win, you'll still get her back at the end of a month. But if you win, you get all that," Harlan said, pointing to the pot. "I know you could really use that money, Hutchison. But if you don't sweeten the pot, you'll have to forfeit."
Doug rubbed his temples. He couldn't believe what was happening; he thought he knew Gunn after working with him for a year. But now there was some kind of lunatic sitting on the other side of the table.
Doug looked at the pot then looked at his cards. He had a good chance of winning, but if he didn't . . . Oh, Nadia would have his ass. Scratching his head, he looked at the pot again. He could do a lot with that money.
"... A weekend."
Harlan laughed. "Get serious, Hutchison."
"A week."
"Three weeks."
"Two and a half."
Harlan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Okay."
Doug glanced at the others. They were still silent, pale and stunned. Doug looked down at his three sevens and his eight of spades, braced himself, and, ever so slowly, turned over his hold card. An eight of hearts.
"Full house."
Doug looked down triumphantly on Harlan's two aces and two eights. He had already seen the ace of diamonds pass through Frank's hand earlier, and he had the rest of the eights. Doug felt his shoulders finally relax.
"Harlan?"
Harlan's face remained expressionless as he turned over his hold card. Doug looked down at the card and felt faint. The ace of spades.
"Full house, aces high."