Page 101 of How to Break My Heart

It’s always the married ones who party the loudest.

Gino, Myles’s buddy from college, cranks up the soundsystem and dances out on the terrace without a care in the world. I take a few shots myself, trying to ease the tension in my shoulders and arms from the golf session with Roland. I don’t mind the guy, but golf isn’t a sport I’m fond of. It’s a sport used to talk business, something my father taught me earlier in my career.

Give me a football any day over a club and golf ball.

“Hey, Beaumont, come out here and smoke with us,” Gino yells over the music.

It doesn’t surprise me someone brought weed to the party. The last time I smoked it would have been at college at some frat party while I fucked whoever would spread their legs for me.

How times have changed.

The only woman I want to spread her legs for me is at my sister’s bachelorette party, hopefully behaving herself and not allowing any male stripper to touch her. Everleigh saw my jealous streak when Dr. What’s-His-Face attempted to touch her and should have learned her lesson.

“I’m going to check on a few things,” I tell Gino as Myles begs me with his eyes to take me with him.

“Be nice to the groom,” I warn Gino playfully. “He better come out of this alive, or my balls are on the line.”

A few of the guys stay outside to smoke, while others sit around the large poker table inside. My father is leading the game, counting his chips with a cigar resting between his lips. The bastard is impossible to read, his facial expression blank until the last minute when he reveals his cards.

Steven, Myles’s groomsman, pushes half his tall stack into the middle of the table. Carefully, he watches my father, waiting for a reaction. It’s down to the two of them, and the stakes are high.

My father stares blankly at his stack, counting his chips quietly as everyone waits in anticipation. After what feels like the longest minute ever, he pushes his entire stack farther to the middle and calls, “All in.”

Almost everyone gasps except for me.

This won’t end well for Steven, and the poor guy has no clue just how cunning my father is.

Steven begins to sweat, beads dripping from his curly black hair onto his forehead, and after much deliberation, he finally concedes and sputters, “I fold.”

My father grins while bringing Steven’s stack toward his own and doesn’t show his cards, much to Steven’s annoyance.

“C’mon, Harvey. Take me out of my misery,” Steven begs.

“Rule number one in poker,” my father preaches with a satisfied smile. “Always make your opponent believe you hold the better hand.”

“Dammit,” Steven mutters, only to reach out and drink his whiskey in one go. “I’m broke as fuck now.”

Another game starts, but I opt to walk away. Glancing down, I check my watch. A waitress comes over to advise me the entertainment has arrived. I thank her and meet the three girls at the door.

Will’s father delivered on his promise. The women are all beautiful, and despite them wearing coats, I can tell the men upstairs will be pleased. One is slightly older, maybe in her mid-thirties, with fiery red hair and bright green eyes, albeit contact lenses. Her stage name is apparently Poison Ivy. It’s very fitting since she looks just like the DC character.

The second lady is blond, looking like a young Marilyn Monroe with a mole perched above her lip, just like the icon herself. I peg her as being in her late twenties.

As for the third woman, she appears much younger. Her long brown hair reminds me of someone I can’t put my finger on. Unlike the two other women who come across as boisterous and outgoing, the younger one keeps to herself.

I give them directions to the bedroom at the back of the houseboat to change and leave their belongings. As I return to the main living area, my father stops me.

“Chalmers told me you refuse to cooperate.” His stern voice isfar from the earlier laughter at the poker table. “Don’t disappoint me, you understand? You do the wrong thing, and our entire family will suffer.”

“This is not the time to discuss such matters,” I tell him, keeping my tone as calm as possible.

“Wewilldiscuss matters whenIsay so,” he voices coldly.

“Why don’t you go back to stealing whatever money you can at the poker table,” I deadpan. “Surely, you didn’t need Steven’s money.”

“It’s never about money. It’s about power. You need to get that through this arrogant head of yours, or else you will pay the price.”

Of course, another threat comes from the man who is supposed to be my father.