Hustle Me (Bank Shot Romance #1)(3)
Author: Jennifer Foor

I shrugged. “I guess.” I really didn’t notice. I shot the game, but had no knowledge of sticks really.

“Look kid, my friends call me Joker. I have a shop about an hour from here and can get this fixed for you for about fifty bucks. If you want to improve, you need a stick that can shoot properly. I can take it and drop it off to whatever hotel you’re staying at, if you want. I’m coming back tomorrow.”

Hell no, I wasn’t leaving my stick with this stranger!

I grabbed the shaft out of his hand. “No thanks. No offense, but I don’t really know you.”

“I understand. Listen, if you change your mind, here is my card. I don’t have to shoot again until tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by and I can fix it up for you.”

“Yeah, maybe I will.”

We said our goodbyes and he went on his way. After watching a few more matches, and getting even more discouraged, I headed out to find a hotel room. To my dismay, they were all booked due to the tournament being in town. I was going to have to sleep in my car and it wasn’t exactly comfortable. Since I knew I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to spend any money, I skipped dinner to go and have my stick repaired by the man they called Joker.

I plugged in the address on my phone and was soon sitting in front of a bar. After walking all the way around the building and not seeing another entrance, I walked inside. An old man was shining a glass behind the bar. “Can I help you, kid?”

What was with everyone calling me kid?

“A guy named Joker told me to come see him about getting a repair done.”

He shook his head. “Sure he did. Another charity case, I see. Take the hallway until you come to a set of stairs and go up. Knock three times and he’ll let you in.”

After finding the stairs and standing at the old beat up red metal door, I was reluctant to knock, but I had nothing better to do and I wasn’t about to let that old man downstairs laugh at me.

Joker answered the door promptly and smiled when he saw it was me. “Hey, kid, come on in. I was just cooking some dinner. You hungry?”

I followed him into the open studio type apartment. The smell of something cooking filled my nostrils and I realized just how hungry I was. “A little.”

He laughed and shook his head, while he grabbed an extra plate and sat it at the bar. After eating one of the best steaks I’d ever tasted, he got up and grabbed my stick, before taking it into another room. I finished eating and followed behind him. The room was set up with a couple machines. A few sanders were on one table and a bunch of long pieces of light wood were in a bin. “You make sticks?”

“Yep, as a hobby. It keeps my mind off of things when work’s slow.”

I walked around and looked at some of the finished sticks. The wood grain was amazing and I’d never felt a stick that was so smooth. “These are great.” I saw a price sticker and almost threw up my steak dinner. “Holy shit, this stick is two grand?” I put it back where it sat and backed away from the display case.

Joker shook his head and kept working. “You probably don’t want to know how much the other ones are. They can run you a pretty penny.”

“Obviously.”

He was staying on task and never looking up at me being so nosey. “You got a place to stay kid?”

I shook my head and looked down at the equipment. “Not really, but I was thinking about going home. I shot like shit and there’s nothing left for me to do.”

“I could use a hand around here. If you’re interested, I got an extra room in the back. It ain’t much, just a mattress on the floor, but it’s yours if you want it.”

This man was a stranger and aside from being really awesome at pool, I knew nothing about him. What I did know was that I wasn’t about to go home and face my father after failing so quickly. Did this guy know how desperate I was? I could be running from the law or something. While he slept, I could rob and kill him. This was real life. “Why are you helping me?”

He smiled and shook his head. “My life had revolved around this game, kid. Let’s just say that if I could go back and change things, I would. Now, I just try to do the right things whenever I can. If I’m wrong about you, then don’t take offense, but I’m throwing you a bone and you can decide if you want to take it.”

After thinking about it for only a few seconds, I agreed to be Joker’s assistant, but in doing so, I had no idea that the man was going to change my life.

For the next year I worked alongside of Joker and learned how to make pool sticks during the day. At night, we’d shoot pool for hours and he taught me everything that I never even knew about billiards. I threw myself into my new lifestyle and learning how to get better. Eventually, I stopped talking to my friends and family and focused only on the game and my training. There was the occasional time that Joker would have people over and older women would end up in my bed. Not that I ever complained about that. It was always no strings attached and even they had things to teach me.

Joker was also like a second father to me. Aside from him basically taking me in and giving me a job, he’d take me out to meet other pool players. He played high stakes games involving a lot of money. Some would even last over twenty four hours. Coffee became my best friend and the game was my infatuation.

There was so much more than making shots to the game. It took precision and being able to maneuver each and every shot in my mind. I learned about positioning the ball after every shot and lining myself up for safeties and hard combinations.

Joker insisted on me not playing for money the whole first year that I lived with him. Since he had taught me so much, I respected his decision, but when Valley Forge came around again, we were both registered and I was ready to show the world of billiards my improvements. It was my second chance at redemption and I knew if I failed again, that I wouldn’t want to continue on the path I was headed. I loved the game, but had been humiliated before and I just wasn’t about to have it happen again.

I was so nervous when the day came, but managed to make it to the fifth round. Joker was still in the tournament as well, but he was waiting to play his next match and was acting as a coach for me. While the other guy I was playing was hiding my next shot, making it impossible for me to see my ball, I stood to the side contemplating what I was going to do.

I looked around the large room full of people. They were watching my match and I could feel the beads of sweat running down my forehead. I was nervous and this shot was going to determine if I won something or nothing at all. Sure, I’d come far from how I shot the year before, but I wanted the candy pot and first place was where it sat.