Thank You (pt. 2)

The clock was almost done counting down, but Deck was the only one who noticed. Everyone else left in the tournament had gotten up, taken a walk, or smoked a cigarette, or went to make a call, or whatever. He was still in his seat though, watching the break clock tick down. He was afraid that if he got up, he would lose it, whatever it was that had happened to carry him to the final 18 players.

Whatever it was, it seemed to be running out. He was 17th in chips out of 18th, with 12,475 chips left. The next level was going to be 1,000/2,000 with a 300 ante. He was actually kind of pissed about the ante being so high, but what the hell, it wasn't going to matter now. And only the top 9 got paid.

"Hey Deck, you still in this thing?"

He swiveled around in his chair, to see Carrie walking over towards him -- he'd heard someone else call her that, which saved him the embarrassment of asking. For a moment, he forgot about the tournament and his now completely-empty wallet, as he watched her cover the length of the card room with her long, smooth strides. He felt a little a tingle down his spine as the thought crossed his mind that she was walking over specifically for him, seeing that she had changed back into her streets.

"Barely Carrie, just barely." He immediately regretted the inadvertent rhyme.

She cracked an easy smile, her eyes a little brighter now too. Maybe it was because she'd finally gotten off work. He allowed himself the fleeting pleasure of thinking maybe it had something to do with him.

"Well Dr. Seuss, I'm bone-tired and ready to crash, so I can't stick around to watch you kick some more ass," she joked. She stood next to him, and gently rested a hand on his shoulder. "So don't let me down." She gave him a light squeeze.

He was still frozen to the chair, unable to move, but now for different reasons. He almost couldn't believe how light and tingly and strange her hand felt on his shoulder. He convinced himself he'd probably been born with ridiculous amounts of extra nerve endings in his left shoulder.

"I'll uh, I'll do my best, but you know what, it's gonna be tough, with my chips." He gave a half-hearted wave towards his unimpressive chip stack.

"Oh come on, you gotta have a little faith in yourself. Here, how about this," she said as she smoothly put both hands on his shoulders and pulled him up out of his chair, "since that last kiss seemed to work pretty well for you, how about another?"

Without waiting for a reply -- and he was too nervous to say anything anyways -- she took a step forward, and with one hand on his cheek and the other tickling its way up his back, she tugged him in close and kissed him. This time, she let her full, soft lips linger on his for a few, devastating seconds. Somewhere behind him, the tournament director was announcing that the break was over, and telling dealers to shuffle up and deal. He couldn't have cared less.

She pulled back slowly, letting the gentle pressure of her lips ease off ever so delicately from his. In his mind, he could almost feel her there still, and he tried his damnedest to hold on to the feeling.

Pausing for just a second and smiling to herself as she saw the effect she'd had on Deck plainly visible on his face, she reached into her purse, pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen, and scribbled a few digits on there.

"Call me," she said, "and let me know how it went."