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His family groaned.
I smiled. “Off your game?” I pitched my dart, striking the center.
“It’s been a while since I’ve played. I used to be unbeatable.”
By now the whole bar crowd was watching us. Emery stood sideways, raised his hand with the dart, and motioned backward and forward in slow motion. He squinted one eye, brought his arm back, and threw his last dart. It stuck in the middle.
The whole room went wild. It was unusual to see that many darts sitting in the bull’s eye.
Doubt seeped in. Was there even any room for my final dart? I took a swig of beer before I also turned sideways to the dart board. The joke within the bar crowd was that I had some magical touch with darts since no one had ever beaten me. Truth was, I grew up with a dartboard in the basement. My parents played with me every night. I even had a set of special darts, but I never used them in the bar. Wouldn’t want to tip the odds in my favor.
There wasn’t a whole lot of skill to it. I did have a knack, but the game was won on luck. And positive thinking.
Except positive thinking had vanished. I could only count on one hand the number of times my opponent had two in the middle.
The room grew quiet, which didn’t help with my nervousness. I’d rather the band played and people laughed and yelled at each other. I tipped my hand back, visualized my dart hitting the center circle, and pitched. The dart flew across the room and stuck in the middle ring. The crowd roared, including the Swazay family—sans Emery.
I bowed and snatched up his bill. “Better luck next time.”
I didn’t think Emery’s scowl could get any darker, but it did. “How about a game of pool? I’ll put two-hundred dollars down to say I can beat you. Or is that too heavy for you?”
My parents also had a pool table in the basement where Dad taught me several slick tricks.
I unwrapped twenty-dollar bills from my wad of tips and waved them near his face. “You’re on.”
The crowd moved as one and surrounded a pool table. We flipped a quarter to see who’d break—I won. I chalked a pool stick, leaned over the edge of the table, and lined the cue ball up. After a perfect strike, the ball sailed across the table and hit where I wanted. Two striped balls ricocheted into the side pockets.
“Looks like I have stripes.”
Emery’s eyes narrowed. “Why do I feel I’m being hustled?”
“You’re the one who suggested we play.” I lined up another shot and hit a purple striped ball into a corner pocket. I made good rounds with two more balls before I missed. Emery pocketed three solids before he missed a shot by a mile. I cleaned up the rest of the table and scooped up the pot. Everyone cheered for me, but some people grumbled they had bet on the wrong person.
Emery’s jaw tensed.
Typical behavior. He was the type of man who was used to winning.
He pointed at a deck of cards sitting on a table. “I bet three hundred bucks that I’ll choose a higher card than you.”
The crowd gasped. Even I sucked in my breath. If I lost, I’d be wiped out of the earnings I made against him. But I was never one to shy away from a bet. I placed my cash on the table. He did the same. “Do you want to cut the deck?”
One side of his mouth lifted. “I’d love to.” He divided the pile in two and placed them back together. He waved his hand signaling for me to go. I lifted a short stack, and he picked almost to the bottom. We flipped them over at the same time—my queen to his jack.
Everyone shouted and laughed while Emery’s mouth dropped open..
Robin rang the bell at the bar. “Time to clear out folks.”
“Whenever you want me to take your money, just ask.” I stepped past Emery, but he jumped in front of me. I stared up at the bluest eyes I had ever seen. “If you want to stay standing, I suggest you move.”
He raised his hands in the air. “Sorry. Geesh. Touchy much?”
“You could say that.”
“Whatever. Look. I want to offer you a deal.” He squinted at my visibly straightening back. “I heard you’re a pilot, and I need someone to fly my jet. I’m in Pleasant Valley for thirty days and plan to visit my offices scattered around Vermont and the nearby states. Would you consider working for me?”
I couldn’t believe I had come full circle from my commercial airline job. Here I was in the same situation to be under the thumb of a powerful man—a man who’d likely cut me in half, one way or another.
“I’d never allow you to be my boss.” I lifted my chin, strutted across the room, and up to the bar.
