“Oh god.” Evie groans. “Bean’s gonna have to dance for men. Wait.” Her eyes sparkle. “That’s not a bad idea. Bean could dance for men!”
“No!” Laughing, I lead them back through the room toward the doors. “We have deep pockets coming. Those deep pockets buy their chips. The money we raise from chips is ours, free and clear.”
“So, at the end of the night…?”
“Those who can play poker will have a lovely stack of useless plastic. They’re here for the fun, for the competition. And for that pleasure, they pay up and donate to our cause.”
“And you expect to sell four and a half million dollars’ worth of plastic? Maddi.” She turns to me with a frown. She’s not mad, just dubious. “Valiant effort, but I’m just not sure this is going to work.”
“You’ve trusted me this far. Let me finish out the night.”
“We have to tell our fighters,” she presses. “They’re starting to get in their cars, they’re starting to travel for this. Not everyone can afford to drive a whole day for nothing.”
“Let me finish out the night,” I plead. “I promise, I’m doing the best I can.”
“Welcome!”
I stand right beside Evie on the main stage in front of hundreds of people in suits and gowns. Evie is the face of Stacked Deck, so she speaks first, she addresses her crowd.
“Wow.” Giggling, she looks around at everyone’s faces. “You all look smart as hell.”
Her family is here in their entirety. Her dad and mom, her uncles and aunts, all of her cousins who are over the age of eighteen. Those who aren’t are back home on the estate, eating bad food and watching movies way past their bedtime.
“Well, I suppose I should officially open the first ever, but hopefully annual, Stacked Deck Gala,” she announces. “Tomorrow, we’ll be weighing in and praying we’ve stayed on track with our diets, and in less than a week, we’ll be fighting. The idea for tonight is to raise money for our fighters. The more we raise, the more they take home in their pockets when they win. The more we raise, the bigger Stacked Deck becomes, and the bigger Stacked Deck becomes, the more we’ll be able to help women and children in need of the shelter my mom and aunts founded when I was just a child. Not everyone has somewhere safe to sleep and eat.”
She lowers her eyes, and loses her smile. “Safety should be a basic human right, not something some people have to battle for. So we do our bit, and in the process, we have a little fun with it.”
Applause rings out through the dimly lit room. The tables are illuminated, the dealers stand in white. The food has been served, eaten, and cleared. The guests have had time to mingle and laugh. Now it’s time to work.
I accept the microphone when she passes it, but I don’t let her leave my side. Maybe I was born into a life of privilege, and maybe I enjoy my position as a PR spokesperson, but that doesn’t mean I want to stand on this stage in front of fighters all alone.
“My name is Madilyn,” I don’t mention Tosky or Monaco, they don’t deserve the recognition – “and I’m your official host for tonight. If you have questions, come see me. I will have all of your answers.” I point toward some of Bry’s younger cousins as they slide through the room with discreet folders. “If you feel the urge to give, please speak with anyone with an official Rollin On Gym lanyard around their neck. They will help you through the process. If you’d like to speak to any of the fighters, then you know who they are. You recognize their faces. Tap them on the shoulder and say hey. Any one of them will be happy to spend a little time with you.”
An older woman sits at the poker table beside her disgustingly rich husband. I know her from Monaco parties, and I know she likes to spend her husband’s money like it’s confetti. “Even the original fighters, Miss?”
“Yep!” I point toward the uncles in the back. “Any one of them. They’re here for your pleasure tonight.”
“Er…” If Evie was wearing a tie, she’d be tugging it loose. “Maddi…?”
“And since you mentioned it, I’d like to introduce you all to tonight’s main feature.” I step down from the stage, but take my microphone with me.
This is it. I’ve been studying stats for a month, I’ve been staring at men I really shouldn’t. And I’ve been caught by Bry, and had to come up with bullshit excuses for why I’ve been checking out the dads.
Since Evie walks with me, I head toward Aiden first.
“Ladies and gentlemen, standing at six feet, five inches tall, two hundred and…” I tilt my hand. “Eleven?” I look into his terrified eyes and nod. “Yeah, two-ten, two-eleven or so pounds, and with an arm reach that I have no clue how to measure without it being weird, I present to you, Aiden Kincaid! He’s an original Roller, had a direct hand in training past and present champions, and his daughter is the very fighter you’ve all come out to support.”
I take his hand and drag him back through the room. Past the band, onto the stage. I turn and force the poor man to face his admirers. “Aiden Kincaid holds a black belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and…” I flick my hand. “I forget. Other things. Maybe Karate?”
Gritted teeth, grinding jaw. He sets me on fire with his eyes.
But he nods.
“Yeah.” I turn back to my captivated crowd. “Karate. Aiden can be a little shy, but he’s loyal, and likes walks on the beach at sunset.”
“Is he a dog?” Evie cackles.
I firm my quivering lips and try not to laugh. “Please, ladies and gentlemen, start your bidding. The reserve is set at five hundred thousand dollars, and may go up in fifty-thousand-dollar increments. For your trouble and much appreciated donations toward Stacked Deck’s coffers, you will receive one night – a date, a meal, a gentleman who will pick you up at your door. He’ll wear the suit he’s wearing tonight, he’ll use lovely manners, unless, of course, you prefer your men with a little less tact, and after he buys you a meal and spoils you with a night of wonderful discussion and wit, he’ll drive you home again, and maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll get a farewell kiss on the cheek.”
The moms – Tina, Izzy, Britt, Tink, and Kit – freeze in their steps and stare at us. Mouths agape, wide eyes, they merely remain in place and stare.
“Please…” I bow toward Aiden. “Show the man some love.”
“Six hundred thousand dollars!”
I knew it! I fucking knew it would work!
“What?” Aiden snaps at me. “You can’t be serious? I’m a married man!”
“You don’t have to go to bed with them, Biggie!” Evie folds at the waist and cackles. “Loosen up, and make us some money.”
“Fuck he will,” Bobby hollers from the back of the room. He pushes away from the wall at a sprint, and barrels his way to the stage. “Who wants to bid on me?”
“Bobby!” Kit snaps.
“Baby! I gotta raise the most. You know I do. It’s a matter of pride.”
“Wait your turn,” I laugh. I take Bobby’s hand and hold him back to give Aiden the spotlight. “Can we get six-fifty?” I ask the crowd.