Broken Man
shouldn’t even be thinking about another woman in that way, Jack scolded himself for permitting those thoughts to seep into his mind for he first time since her death. It just isn’t right to betray her memory like that.
    “The action is on you, Sir,” the dealer once again had to prompt Jack’s action.
    “I fold,” Jack replied without looking at his cards, knowing that his mind was elsewhere. “Gentlemen, have a nice evening, I think I am going to call it a night.”
    * * *
    As she watched Jack leave the room, Amanda’s heart sank as she wondered why he was leaving so early.
    It certainly wasn’t because he was losing. She had watched as his chip stack had grown slowly but steadily throughout the evening, monitoring his progress and his visage, wanting to be sure he was the man she imagined and not another cheap imitation.
    And, what a man he was turning out to be. He handled both winning and losing gracefully, the bad beats not affecting him at all. He was a valued member of any table, courteous to the other players, empathetic to their losses and encouraging in their victories. He was also kind and generous to the dealers, treating them as important members of the community rather than as menial peons meant to be castigated, blamed, and abused for some jerk’s losses.
    Immediately, the dealers noticed. Her friend, Karen, had already asked Amanda about Jack, whether she knew anything about him or if he was available. Feeling an unexpected surge of jealousy and possessiveness, Amanda had smiled secretively and kept the information to herself, laughing at the subsequent teasing from Karen.
    Maybe he has a dinner date, Amanda thought to herself as she fantasized about a romantic dinner with him, a bottle of wine, the lights dim, his secretly touching her leg under the table as they kissed. I certainly hope he doesn’t have a date, Amanda’s thoughts turned to the hundreds of women that would throw themselves at him in the casino.
    He doesn’t seem like the type who would go for that, Amanda decided as she absentmindedly dealt another hand. No, just from her limited conversations with him, Amanda already knew he would seek more than just surface relationships, meaningless one night stands of no interest to him. Already, their conversations were full of give and take, her watching his reaction as he listened to her, thinking about his response, and then giving a well thought out rebuttal to whatever she had said, his intelligence on display at all times.
    Maybe he is an Attorney, she fantasized, well trained in the repartee of debate, an able listener and communicator using his superior intellect to defeat his opponents. Or, maybe he is an Entrepreneur, a shrewd negotiator able to secure the best deals through his charm and persuasiveness. Or, could he possibly be a Professional Gambler, utilizing all of his analytical skills to calculate the odds and defeat the unsuspecting opponents at the table.
    I don’t know who or what he is, Amanda thought to herself as the dealer behind her tapped her shoulder, indicating the end of her down. I also have no idea what he is doing in Atlantic City, although I am certainly glad he will be here for a while, her mind focused on future conversations as she moved to the next table.
    Jack Anderson, she thought to herself as she tapped out the next dealer, you are definitely an interesting man, a man that I am going to get to know.

Chapter Eight
    It was odd to have so much time on his hands after having been so busy for years, but Jack slowly found a routine in Atlantic City.
    His day would start early with a morning workout at sunrise, the run along the beach a great way to clear his mind, the cold mist of the ocean an effective stimulant to start his day. He would then head back to the hotel for a shower followed by a healthy breakfast and a cup of hot coffee, all serving to warm his body and awaken his senses.
    He spent the mornings following the stock market and reviewing the

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