"I demand a rematch," I blinked at him. "Best two out of three," was he out of his mind? I won fair and square, that's all that mattered, and the risk of losing my win was too big to ignore? Was it my wish to quit my job? No, it was not my wish, but desperate times call for desperate measures and I sure as hell felt desperate right now.
"Absolutely not," the dealer could not finish placing my chips in their tray fast enough. Even though the game was over, nobody had left the table, and we even had people from other tables looking over at us. This was so embarrassing.
"Why not? Are you scared?" His taunting wasn't going to work on me because my mind was made up. If I played again just to prove a point, I ran the risk of losing not only all my chips, but also all the power I had to walk away. If that happened, there was absolutely no way I'd leave Miami without all my underwear torn to shreds, and that was the first step to having my heart torn to shreds.
