Free Double Blind by Heidi Cullinan Page B

looked at him blankly. “A ‘toke’ is a tip.”
     
    “Then why didn’t you just say ‘tip’?” Ethan frowned at the table. “I’m a live one, aren’t I?”
     
    Randy shook his head. “Not while I’m here with you. But you will be if we both sit down and play, because then I can’t help you without getting us both in a lot of trouble. People will be thinking we’re a team as it is.” He saw the question in Ethan’s face, but rode over it. “Back to the play. If you don’t call and you don’t raise, you fold. You fold if your hand is garbage—7-2 offsuit, for example—and depending on the game, anything offsuit and lower than a 10 is a good benchmark for throwing away to start. You also fold if it’s clear from the raises and re-raises before your turn to act that your hand isn’t strong enough to compete. The later your position after the button, the better off you are.
     
    “Once play has gone all the way around and everyone has called and met raises or folded, the flop is put down. Now you bet again, only this time you’re looking at what is in your hand. You get to make a hand of five cards using any from your hand and anything on the board. Maybe you felt bold and even called with that 7-2 offsuit I told you to fold because the betting was low; maybe now the board shows you another 7 and another 2, and you’re sitting on two pair heading for a potential full house. Maybe you folded because betting was aggressive and now you sit there and kick yourself through the rest of the hand. Maybe you had Big Slick—that’s an ace and a king of any suit, connected or off—and nothing’s panning out, no straights, no pairs. You might have a strong hand with just five cards, and you might have had a strong hand turn to garbage. You don’t fold with Big Slick unless it’s clear someone is plowing their way toward something serious, but you see what I mean about the way the flop changes your hand. Right?”
     
    Ethan nodded. He’d maybe absorbed a tenth of that, Randy guessed. But Ethan was also looking at Randy oddly. “Are you calling me Slick because of poker?”
     
    The question took Randy off guard, and he laughed to cover his surprise. “Maybe I am.”
     
    Ethan lifted an eyebrow. “Am I a king, or an ace?”
     
    Randy took in the cool command yet complete lack of artifice in Ethan’s handsome face. “Ace, baby.” He added a wink, because his answer felt too bald, and then he turned back to the board. “So. You’ve bet on the deal and the flop, and now you get the turn. This usually doesn’t change much, though sometimes it makes you lucky. Same procedure—except on all the board bets you can check instead of call until someone else calls first. If you check, you don’t put in money; just knock the table, and play moves on. You can’t check after a call, though—you have to meet the call. So you check, call, raise, or fold through the turn, and then you get the river, the final card. If everyone stays in all the way to the end, you show your cards and whoever has the best hand wins. That’s Hold ’Em.”
     
    “How would you have a game where everyone didn’t stay in until the end?” Ethan asked.
     
    Randy pointed to the table in front of them, where two players were raising and re-raising on the flop. “If the betting gets too high, if you think you’re in danger of being beat, you fold, and if everyone folds to you, you win, even if all the cards aren’t dealt. In this case, you don’t need to show your cards, although some people do. If you’re the last man standing, you get the pot, which is how you can win with absolute shit for a hand. If you bluff everyone into thinking you have the best hand, you win.”
     
    Randy saw it clicking in Ethan’s head. “And that’s why you’re good at poker. You’re good at bluffing, and you’re good at reading other people.”
     
    “That, and I’ve been playing the game since I was six.” He rocked back on his heels.