Page 63 of Devil in the Details

Now he chuckled. “I’m not too worried about that part. I’m sure if you let it be known that I wasn’t interested in selling to some conglomerate that wanted to turn the place into a vacation rental, I’d be viewed as a hero in some circles.”

He was probably right about that. While plenty of people had made lots of money turning private residences into temporary vacation homes, the other residents in the neighborhoods involved often had a few choice words to say on that topic, none of which could be safely printed in a newspaper article.

“Then keep thinking good thoughts that Marcy’s buyers will come through,” Delia said lightly.

“I will.” Caleb paused for a beat or two before saying, “And I’ll see you at the tournament tomorrow, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she reassured him. “Three o’clock?”

“Yep,” he said. “Actual play doesn’t start until three-thirty, but you’ll want to get a good spot so you can see all the action.”

At least half of which she wouldn’t be able to understand. That was all right, though. The important thing was that she’d be there to lend her support.

“Sounds like a plan, then. I’ll see you at three.”

“Thanks for updating me on the open house.”

They both ended the call there, and Delia shoved her phone in her purse and started gathering all her things. When she got to the front door, however, she stood in the entryway for a moment, glancing around, double-checking that everything was in place and that you’d never know some twenty-odd people had tromped through the house just a little while earlier.

She’d done her best. Now they’d just have to see who was willing to put an offer on the property first.

God willing, it wouldn’t be Evan Matthews.

Chapter Sixteen

Delia was right on time, pushing her way through the crowds at the Desert Paradise casino to the spot where Caleb stood. As far as he could remember, she’d told him that she was still going to work a half day today, but she must have gone home to change since she was now wearing slim jeans and sandals and a pretty embroidered top in a pale sage color that perfectly complemented her copper-red hair.

Just the sight of her was enough to buoy his spirits. He didn’t quite know why he’d been feeling so anxious this morning, but he supposed that was mostly because, while they guessed some sort of supernatural shenanigans had been going on this whole time, neither of them really knew what the end game was…or what form it might take.

“Hey,” she said as she stopped near him. “Parking was crazy. I hope I’m not late.”

“No, you’re right on time.”

If they’d had a very different sort of relationship, he might have bent down to give her a kiss, or she might have come over and put her arms around him and given him an encouraging hug. But since they were still floating uncomfortably in the friend zone, he knew neither of those things was going to happen.

Well, it was uncomfortable for him, anyway. If Delia wanted things to progress further, then she was doing an awfully good job of hiding her feelings.

He couldn’t worry about any of that right now. This afternoon, his sole focus was on surviving until the semifinals tomorrow…and, with any luck, the finals on Saturday.

And while he thought it would be great to win the whole thing, he was okay with only advancing a little further. Just accomplishing that much would let him know that he could hold his own with some serious poker players, even if he didn’t use any of his demonic gifts to help him along. By this point, a lot of the real amateurs had already been knocked out of the competition, leaving people who, if they weren’t on the pro circuit, still definitely knew what they were doing.

“So…how does this work, exactly?” she asked.

“It’s pretty simple,” he said. “We’re down to eight tables of four people each. Eliminations will take that down to four tables of four during the semifinals. And the final will just be the last four who survived the semis.”

“Funny how you have half the people competing today, but it feels twice as crowded.”

Her observation was correct; the place looked positively packed this afternoon, even with two more rounds to go. It seemed as if a lot of people must have gotten off work early so they could hang out on the sidelines and watch.

“Guess there’s not much else going on today,” he said with a grin.

Delia only shook her head. “Guess not. Do you know which table you’ll be playing at?”

Because he’d already checked in with Hank Bowers a few minutes earlier, Caleb had an easy answer to that question. “The one over there,” he replied, pointing to the one set up on the opposite side of the gaming area.

Maybe her lips pursed a little. “It’s going to be hard to see anything that’s going on.”

The same thought had passed through his mind, and yet there wasn’t much he could do about it. He didn’t know how the event organizers arrived at the seating arrangements — did they pull the names out of a hat, or maybe use some sort of computer randomization system? — but he guessed he and Delia would just have to roll with it.

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