Page 104 of The Irresistible Distraction

“We could make a side deal, if you’re that confident, grant you a few more chips.” He looks down at the massive stack he’s acquired throughout the night and casually shuffles the stacks apart and together—again, clearly a skill he’s honed through too many years of desultory living.

“What kind of a deal?” I’d like to say my voice is steady, but I’m sure everyone can tell I’m a ball of nerves.

Brody shrugs. “You owe me one yes.”

“What?”

I’m remembering our previous conversation on the habit of saying yes, and also blushing furiously. There really are no safe words with Brody. He always wants to debate please or hope versus expect.

The corners of Brody’s lips curl upward at the flush spreading across my face and neck, but all he says is, “Don’t worry, nothing debauched, nothing illegal. Just, at some point, I’ll ask you a question and you’ll say yes.”

Judge Benson, who I’ve heard Brody refer to as Teddy, but who could never be Teddy to me, is shaking his head as if this would only happen against his expert advice. But Natasha, Mario, and really everyone else is in back of me, sneaking peeks while offering ideas: “Yellowstone Club” and “VIP Disneyland.”

I peek at the pocket aces again and decide to go for it. Brody hasn’t even looked at his cards, which means this is pure bravado.

Brody being Brody.

Betting in his go big or go home way.

Do I neglect the tried-and-true maxim that the gods favor . . . the ones they favor? Do I forget that Athena picked Odysseus, because? That Beowulf’s supposed heroism had little to do with worthiness or mathematical odds?

Yes. Yes, I do.

“I’m in,” I announce.

There is a palpable energy in the room as the cards are revealed. The flop gives the table a two and five of spades as well as a seven of hearts, and I think I’m safe, surely I’m safe, because Brody still hasn’t even bothered to turn over his cards.

The turn reveals an ace of hearts, giving me three of a kind. Behind me, Walter is already high-fiving Reuben and pounding on my back, trying to sell me on all the extra labor he’ll take on if I’ll trade him those Yellowstone Club days.

The river is a ten of spades.

“Three of a kind,” I proclaim, because I have the win, right?

Then, Brody flips over his cards. Though my attention is on his hand, I can feel Brody’s gaze on me, that he’s chosen to study my reaction as opposed to see what’s been revealed.

My shock tells him everything.

Because luck is blind.

And it’s decided to favor Brody, since he has it literally . . . in spades, his flush trumping my aces.

I stare down at his cards, thinking that at least all I’ve lost is some photography sessions and that it wasn’t like there was real money on the line.

Around me, everyone around us is buzzing with energy, muttering “No way” and “He didn’t even look” and “Damned tourists.”

Only after things quiet down do I look up. Brody’s gaze is steady and intense, all seriousness. His voice is quiet, perhaps even somber, as he announces, “I want to marry you.” He pauses a beat, one small corner of his mouth quirking up as I register the gasps around us. “I’m hoping it’s an easy yes. But don’t feel the need to answer right away.”

31

I REFUSE TO VOLUNTEER TESTIMONY WITHOUT A DIRECT INQUIRY

Iclose my eyes for a moment, squeezing them tightly and willing the scene in front of me to go away. When I open them, it’s to see everyone’s rapt attention focused solely on me.

“I refuse to volunteer testimony without a direct inquiry.”

Brody grins, which is quite the juxtaposition considering I am burning inside, brimming with emotions I can’t quite articulate, the fire in my veins is scorching.

But Brody . . . just continues smiling, leaning back and crossing his forearms across his chest, dimple flashing. “See, this is why I proposed⁠—”