Page 73 of False Promises

“You have the worst poker face ever.” Kristoff shook his head at me.

“Yeah, man. The kid is right. You have no game. Your face is a window to your soul or…what’s the saying? Anyway, if you think you’re subtle, check yourself out in a mirror. We can read everything you’re hiding when we look at you.”

“No.”

Kristoff’s laughter warmed me. “Yes, we can. Sorry to burst your bubble, Hills. You are the lamest poker player I’ve ever met.”

“Listen to the kid, man,” Riley said, unable to stop laughing. “He might be onto something.”

I lifted both hands above the table. “Why are we doing this again? Why keep inviting me then?”

My manager laughed his heart out. “It’s for charity. Man, you can’t even fool kids. If you get invited to an all-star big-stakes game in Vegas, remind me to stop you from going. I’ll highjack the plane or something. Freeze your assets. Kidnap your sorry ass.”

I joined in on his humor. “We have a deal.”

A nurse neared us, addressing Kristoff. “Time for your blood work.” She pushed his wheelchair away from our table.

“See you, guys,” the twelve-year-old said with a wave. “And Hills, if you’re up for a private poker lesson, I’ll be happy to teach you. Anyway, I won all your chips today. You know where to find me.”

Kristoff had been battling a blood disease since his birth. A few times a year, Nashville Children’s Hospital invited me and my friends to spend a day where they booked the in-hospital recreation room and organized activities the children enjoyed. Kristoff always chose poker, to my greatest dismay. This morning, I played music while a chorus of seven-year-olds sang four of my songs. Then I baked cookies with a bunch of them before working on songwriting with a group of teens.

Today’s poker chips turned out to be gummy worms and chocolate. Last year, they were cookies.

But no matter the stakes, I had to recognize the kid was right. I was a shitty poker player.

* * *

“Ready for tonight?” Sam asked as we entered the ballroom where the hospital held its annual casino night. It wasn’t enough I’d been humiliated because of my lack of poker skills earlier today that now I was expected to participate in many Vegas-themed games through the night.

With long, white shimmery curtains hanging from the ceiling and red and silver accents in the form of table centers and tablecloths, the venue looked fabulous.

The servers wore silver jackets over crisp white shirts and black slacks. Two hostesses wore floor-length crimson dresses with long slits along their left legs, reminding me of my girlfriend.

Trevor McLachlan took the stage, steering me away from my thoughts, and adjusted the microphone. “Thank you for joining us tonight. As the sponsor, I encourage you to please have fun and be generous. Remember all the money goes to a great cause. Nashville’s Children Hospital. Enjoy the night.”

Trevor was a fellow country singer. He was born with a congenital heart defect and had to undergo a number of surgeries growing up. Since he’d attained fame, he had dedicated a lot of his time to give back to the hospital that had saved his life.

“Where’s your woman?”

I brought my attention back to Sam. “She’s in LA. Didn’t feel like coming along. And, well… she met Dahlia and Jack.” I sipped on my virgin Caesar. “They came to stay with us for a couple of days.”

His eyebrows shot up. “How did it go?”

“Not sure. Dahlia was her usual warm self. Trying to engage Savannah in conversation and offering to spend time together. I could tell Savannah wasn’t enjoying the idea. And the company. In the past, she told me she felt threatened by Dah. But hey, she’s happily married, and I’m living in California now. No matter however much I try to reassure Savannah, she keeps complaining about our friendship.” I ran a hand over my face. “Jack will always be mine to look after. I don’t know. It’s getting more complicated than it should. I’m not sure how to fit both parts of my life together.”

Sam clapped my shoulder. “I feel ya. Is that scowl on your face because you’re alone tonight or because you’re still sour about losing to a kid this afternoon?”

I let out a loud chuckle. “Good one, man. Keep reminding me how bad I am at poker.”

Sam returned my laughter. “Not my fault you have the worst poker face I have ever met. Isn’t your woman an actress? I’m sure she could teach you a trick or two. Help you out.”

“I helped her rehearse for a part the other day. And I was pretty convincing. You just have no clue what you’re talking about. My bad poker face might just be an act. Have you ever thought about that?”

Sam’s laughter multiplied. “God, you’re even a bad liar.”

“Enough about me. Where’s Lisa? I haven’t seen her around.”

“She suffered from some all-of-a-sudden stomachache and left.” He surveyed the room. “She used to love coming to these events. When she’s with the girls, she complains she doesn’t get out enough, but when we go somewhere, she always finds excuses to leave early.”