"Pity. Oh well, the night is young. Plenty of time for me to play cupid."
He could only smile and shake his head.
We followed the other man across the lounge and through to an adjacent room. Inside was a group of men, chatting and laughing loudly around a large felt covered card table. The surface was littered with stacks of chips in varying size and colours.
"I should probably fold but... fuck it, I call," said one of the players, as we entered. He was an older man, and his strong features and heavy Scottish accent made me think of Sean Connery. "What have you got?"
The man he was speaking to stared for a few seconds before breaking into a rueful smile. "You've got me." He threw his cards towards the centre of the table.
"I knew it!" roared the Scot. "Don't try and cheat a cheater, Jack, you'll never get away with it!"
A few of the players noticed our presence. "Ah, Sebastian," said the one sitting nearest them, "come to try your luck? Someone needs to break Ewan's hot streak or we'll never hear the end of it." He nodded at the older man, who was now grinning and scooping in the pile of chips from the centre of the table.
"The more the merrier," replied Ewan. "His money's as good as anyone's." He spotted me for the first time. "Is this your secret weapon, Sebastian? Your own personal cheer squad?"
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Sebastian got in first. "Settle down, Ewan. She just wants to watch." He turned to me. "Sorry, just try to ignore him," he whispered. "He gets like this when he's had a few."
I still felt like I should say something, but I didn't want to cause a scene, so I let it go. Taking my hand, Sebastian led me around the table to the spare seat. I pulled up a bar stool and sat behind him, my hands resting lightly on his shoulder.
"So, how much you in for, Sebastian?" asked the man who had greeted us.
Sebastian glanced around the table, sizing up the other player's stacks. "Five hundred I guess."
Several towers of chips were cut out and placed in front of him. It wasn't really what I was expecting. I'd had visions of bricks of hundred dollar bills being tossed around like dollar coins, but things seemed to be much more relaxed than that. It wasn't a small game by any stretch of the imagination — by my count some of them had several thousand dollars in front of them — but compared to the sort of wealth I knew they commanded, they were playing what amounted to penny stakes.
"Five hundred it is," said the dealer. "Shall we play?"
The game resumed. It took me all of two hands to work out that this wasn't an ordinary poker game. The action was fast and reckless; exactly what I'd expected from men playing stakes far below what they could afford. Almost every other hand ended with a huge pot. Often, that's the sign of a weak player, but as the game progressed, I began to see that they weren't playing badly at all. They had a kind of raw cunning to their style that made up for their lack of restraint.
Even during the lulls, I was enjoying being a fly on the wall. It was fascinating watching Sebastian with his colleagues. Seeing him laugh and joke along with the rest of the guys made him seem more human, somehow. He still had that steely intensity, but the camaraderie tempered it a little. It was a side of him I hadn't seen before.
Every so often he glanced back at me and smiled, making sure I wasn't bored. It was nice that just because he was with his friends he hadn't forgotten about me.
Ewan continued to drink and get more raucous, drawing more than a few uncomfortable looks from the other players.
"Why don't you guys just kick him out?" I asked Sebastian quietly.
He sighed. "You know that annoying uncle you don't really like, but are obligated to keep inviting? That's Ewan."
"My mum kicked my uncle out at Christmas last year for making a scene."
He laughed. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me. But be that as it may, we don't do things that way here. Our office is like a big family, and people don't get excluded."
A few hands later Sebastian got involved in a pot with a quiet, dark skinned man that everyone called Jav.
"Two fifty," Jav said, throwing some chips into the middle. It was a big bet. Big enough to be scary.
Sebastian sighed and checked his cards once more. His hand was weak. He'd been going for a flush and had missed, so he effectively had nothing at all.
I could tell he was about to throw his cards away, but I reached out and tapped his arm. "He's full of shit," I whispered. While the others had been chatting, I'd been paying close attention to the game, and had a pretty good feel for how everyone was playing.
"What?" Sebastian said.
I hesitated. I realised Sebastian might not appreciate me giving him advice. Also there was a chance I was wrong and would cost him a bunch of money. But my gut told me he was making a mistake, so I decided to bite the bullet. "Jav, he's full of shit. Remember a few hands ago when he bet small at the end with the straight? He likes to sucker you into a call when he's strong. He wouldn't bet this big if he had it. His hand missed as well. You should raise. He'll fold and you'll win the pot."
Sebastian studied me for a few seconds, a curious smile playing on his lips. "You're sure?"
I nodded slowly.
"Okay." He reached for a stack of chips. "Raise to five hundred," he announced.
Jav instantly threw his hand away. "All yours," he said.
"You know 'a little about poker' hey?" Sebastian said to me, as he raked in his winnings.
I grinned. "A little." It felt good to know I wasn't outclassed by these world-conquering men.
"I'll keep that in mind."
The game continued, and Sebastian gradually increased his stack. Soon, it was almost as big as Ewan's, with two towers of the green chips I'd worked out were fifties. It was an intimidating sum of money to be gambling with. Several more times during big hands Sebastian turned to me, seeking my advice about a particular decision. I don't know if he was just indulging me, or genuinely wanted my help, but it was nice to be included.
A few minutes later, one of the players left and was replaced by Trey.
"Gentlemen," he said.
"Well well well, if it isn't my favourite ATM," said one of the other men. "Time for your weekly donation, is it?"
"Not tonight my friend," replied Trey, "tonight is going to be my night. I can feel it."
The amused expressions that sprung up around the table said nobody really believed that.
"What's all that about?" I whispered to Sebastian.