Page 8 of Double or Nothing

I get another weird tickle at his smile. His character shining through.

He holds up his hands. “Fine. You win. Beer then I’ll drop my pants for you.”

I follow him through to the kitchen, observing the details on the way. Neutral decor, with precisely laid out pieces of art on the wall. Painted, not prints, and all signed. There are some picture hook holes where more would have been, and they’re at uneven points along the hall. Interesting.

I’d guess someone else moved out relatively recently. He’s too neat a guy not to have fixed them and tidied them up.

Bryce’s kitchen isn’t huge, but it’s modern. Light granite worktops with black appliances. Standard, but there is another touch of human in here. He has a load of magnets on his fridge, laid out as neatly as the hall. A mini gallery.

“Does it get a thumbs up?” he asks, as he presents me with a beer.

“Your kitchen?”

“Yeah. You’re looking around like a surveyor, not a guy out for cock.”

“The cock in my pants would disagree with you.”

He points a finger at me as he leans against a worktop. I can feel his brain whirring.

“Is this a skill of yours from the casino? Are you a player as well as an owner?”

I love the way he’s trying to analyse the way I’m analysing him. What a carousel.

I take a neck of beer. “Used to be one, yeah.”

“I knew it. One more point on the board for me.”

I have to laugh as his pride notches up another gear.

“Keep going, Bryce, you’re on a roll. Where’s my casino?”

“Mayfair?”

He’s laughing as he says it, but I’m not when I reply.

“Yes. It’s in Mayfair.”

Oh, how his laughter stops.

“You for real? You have a casino in Mayfair?” His shock is kinda cute. “Shit. No wonder you’re scoping out my place. This must be one hell of a downgrade from your usual glitz and glamour.”

“Nah. I like it.” I wander over to the fridge to check out his magnets. Standard country visitor tokens, and a cringey greatest uncle one with a heart-holding bear. But there’s more hidden amidst the collage. More art. Flowers, and landscapes, and one that stands out from the crowd, right in the centre.

An abstract sky or some shit, with blue swirls mixed with gold.

That one means something to him.

“You a fan of magnets yourself?” he asks.

“No. I’m not admiring your collection. I’m building my get to know Bryce portfolio.”

“By looking at my fridge magnets?” he laughs.

I flash him a look over my shoulder. “It’s more revealing than you’d expect. I now know that you’re an uncle, who likes travelling around Europe, but hasn’t ventured that far into territories further afield. Maybe you’re a little fearful of the great unknown, or maybe too busy to take breaks. Hmm.” I pause, awaiting his reaction. “Maybe you’re the kind who always puts things off with a one day, then books the regular trip to France every summer.” He shuffles as I watch him. “And an art lover. Clearly.”

This time he doesn’t tell me to keep going, just downs more of his beer.

“Who moved out?” I ask him, and his eyes widen.