Was her suggestion the most generous or most devastating maneuver? Sophia wondered this as she watched Mister Dempsey mull over her proposal, hoping the wound wasn’t too grave. He had such an urbane manner of speaking before, did the cat catch his tongue?

“Hmmm,” she ruminated once he granted an answer, careful to wrap her surprise in a winsome smile. She tipped her head in an approving nod, a polite indication of her receptiveness to the idea as much as an acknowledgement of a game well-played. “And here you were, telling me you had no tricks of your own to share. You’ve been quite humble about your ability to influence others,” she playfully admonished, not one to waver on a smooth (if a bit cheeky) recovery.

Though her excuse had been rooted in truth, she’d hastened its timing because something felt decidedly different about their encounter. Not unlike the itch you get to open a mysterious door, unsure if you’ll find treasure or monster on the other side. Had this been ten years ago, perhaps Sophia would have given in. But now she knew herself, and how today’s impulses pave the way to regret, guilt, and heartache tomorrow… That temporary satisfaction of giving into temptation was not worth it. At least that’s what she reminded herself, when she felt an unexpected twist of disappointment in her stomach.

“You make a very generous offer, Mister Dempsey. This would afford the girls some much needed respite,” Sophia finally relented. “I hope it’s no trouble to you, and that you had planned to visit the club tonight anyway,” she added delicately, her clear blue eyes seeking his gaze for an earnest understanding. I’m not what you seek, they said. “…I  know how men love their cardgames.”

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