It was a lively night at Club Juke. Music playing, people dancing, Preacher Boy and Pearline singing, drinks being served, and food being eaten.
Men were gambling in the backroom, including your Bo. He looked mighty fine, too. Sweat glistening skin from the work he’d been doing before settling down to play poker, shirt unbuttoned at the top, he looked disheveled.
You’d gotten done dancing when you went to go look for him, opening the curtain to see him at the poker table with 3 other guys. He smiled when he saw you, a cigarette on the side of his mouth. “C’mere, baby, c’mere.” He patted his lap.
He wrapped one arm around your waist when you complied, sitting to where your back was against his chest. “You think I’ma win against these sons of bitches?” He asked you playfully, continuing to play.
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