“But it’s not his game,” Tom burst out. “It’s your game. You arbitrarily decided he’s going to play. You’re the one who wants to play it.”

“I am waiting,” Vengerov said, eyes crawling to Neil’s.

Neil muttered, “I don’t have much.”

“In that case,” Vengerov said softly, “just wager your wallet.”

Neil drew a sharp breath, because that was all the money he had.

“Don’t do it,” Tom urged him.

But Neil had a grim set to his face. He reached in his back pocket and clapped his wallet on the table.

“What are you doing, Dad?” Tom demanded. Then he turned on Vengerov. “He doesn’t have money to throw away like you. He at least has a shot at winning poker! This is—”

“A risk we are both taking,” Vengerov said.

“It’s not a risk for you,” Tom spat. “This is chump change for you. My father’s the only one risking anything here.”

“It will be a staggering defeat for your father if he loses, I agree,” Vengerov said. “That’s why I trust he won’t lose. Neither of us will.”

Tom fumed. He knew what he had to do. The wheel began to spin, and as the tinkling sound filled the air, the ball bouncing around the outermost circle of the wheel, Tom’s processor began doing what any computer could do: it calculated the deceleration rate. He knew where the ball would land. With a gruff swipe of his hands, Neil shoved the chips onto the wrong color. Tom stood there to let Vengerov sweat a bit, his jaw throbbing from where his teeth were grinding together, as he listened to the deceleration of the wheel. He felt Vengerov’s calculating gaze fixed on him.

Then he couldn’t resist. “Not there, Dad.” He moved the pieces to black twenty-two.

And then the wheel slowed and the ball clattered into its slot: black twenty-two.

Neil gave a start.

“Congratulations,” Vengerov said. “Black twenty-two. What a marvelous pick, Mr. Raines. How about a second try?”

“A second?” Neil sputtered. “We can’t do better than that.”

“I think we could,” Vengerov countered, eyes on Tom.

Tom clenched his fists, but he performed as Vengerov expected. They won the second spin, too. This time, Neil stood there silently. Vengerov won a million dollars in a couple of minutes, thanks to Tom.

Neil didn’t seem to care that he’d come into more than fifty thousand dollars. He was staring at Tom like he didn’t know who he was. Tom stared back, because he felt like he didn’t know who Neil was, either. He didn’t recognize this meek, cowed person as his dad.