Wednesday Knights -- Chapter 17: Belle of the Ball

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Wednesday Knights

By Melanie E.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 17: Belle of the Ball

I looked at the glass in my hand and frowned.

To be honest, I've never been much of a drinker. Sure, I'd had a wild night here or there with my friends, or the occasional wine cooler to wind down at the end of a long day at home, but I was normally a 'one-and-done' kind of person.

Unfortunately, it seemed the Golden Goose was intent to keep that 'one-and-done' at a 'none-and-done' level instead since every attempt to get anything alcoholic had gotten me dirty looks, and an orange juice or Shirley Temple pushed my way.

"Stupid baby bump," I mumbled under my breath, not for the first time, as I leaned back against the bar and surveyed the noisy room around me.

How do I describe my day aboard the Golden Goose?

It'd taken us five attempts before we boarded the boat in a way that our director was happy with, which seemed to be four more attempts than the staff on the boat had been ready to deal with. Likewise, he'd made us re-shoot checking our tickets, and our reactions to our rooms and the boat as a whole, multiple times as well.

It quickly turned what should have been a fun bit of exploration or discovery into a chore. In every case, an initial friendly interaction or bit of excitement had to be faked over and over until it "looked real" to him.

We'd all put up with that for the first three hours of the trip and through the first tourist stop along the coast. The little town with a fur trading post turned museum had been at least as annoyed as we were by Mr. Sinclair's insistence that we "get the tour right." He even made our guide re-shoot entire parts of her presentation.

I suppose it could have been worse: we had our own guide, and onboard the ship, there were a couple of ship staff assigned to help us out specifically to make accommodating the film crew easier. But even with those leniencies in place, none of us were at all surprised when, at around four in the afternoon, the ship's captain called us back to one of the staff rooms for a firm talking to about disrupting the normal operation of the ship.

He let us know in no uncertain terms that, while we were free to film, we were not in a studio or on a set, and any further disruption of the staff or other guests would get us all removed from the boat.

Mr. Sinclair didn't like that, of course, and impatiently chewed the captain out about his vision for the promotional video we were shooting and the necessity of the ship and all those on board to work to make that vision happen.

Thankfully there was cell service along the coast since it meant there was a car arranged to pick him up at the boat's next stop, and just like that, Maria got her wish: she was now the de facto director.

"Hey, Loonie, can I get a shot of you smiling? We're supposed to be having fun!"

I looked Maria's way, then at the member of the film crew next to her. I gave them my best 'go to hell' sneer and almost flipped them off, but instead just went back to my drink.

"Well, that's not nice," Maria said, stepping up next to me and leaning against the counter too. "Not having fun?"

I sighed and pointed across the room before us, at the gambling tables and the happy crowds gathered around them. "Aaron's holding his own at the blackjack tables, barely. Sorry, 'Adrian,'" I said, with proper air quotes, remembering we were supposed to be referring to each other in character while on the trip just in case Something Special happened on camera.

"Dahlia's been sitting at the same slot machine for the last two hours and consumed at least three margaritas. Jonah, I mean, John, stomped off to the dining room twenty minutes ago after blowing his allowance on the craps tables, and Burg ran through his allowance and now is using mine on roulette. And I'm pretty sure Sunny has been betting with her own money for the last hour at least 'cause she seems to be losing a lot more than I gave her."

Maria laughed and bumped my shoulder with hers. "Hey, they're having fun, and so are the people they're playing with. Did you see that guy who pretended to try and steal one of Adrian's swords a bit ago?"

"I don't think he was pretending."

Maria shrugged. "Okay, maybe not at first, but when Adrian stopped him and gave him the whole Paladin speech, it was great. It got a laugh and clapping from the guy's date, and the guy signed off on us being able to use the whole thing in the film, too."

I did chuckle at that, and smiled as I watched Aaron-slash-Adrian intently following the cards on the table before him, and the gleam in his eyes when the dealer busted and pushed a small pile of chips his way.

"See? There's a smile. You get that Mikey?"

"Got it, ma'am."

"So come on, lighten up a bit, and get yerself a real drink."

"I've tried," I told her, then pointed down at my midsection. "But this keeps getting me told no, and none of the bartenders believe me when I tell them it's fake."

"Hmmm." Maria frowned for a moment, giving me a thoughtful look, then started grinning again. "Here, here's fifty bucks in chips," she said, pulling out some orange chips and pressing them into my empty hand. "Go pick a game to play, and I'll be with you in a moment."

"I don't--"

"GO!"

"Fine!" I huffed, taking the chips and leaving my now empty glass on the counter. I gave Maria one last glare, but all she did was giggle and wave me away from the counter.

Sigh.

That, of course, gave me an entirely new problem: figuring out what to play.

I could join Brian at the roulette table, but I'd honestly never really liked the game: I knew full well how badly games of pure luck could go. That also ruled out the craps tables for me. The slot machines were also pure chance, but they were also the lowest stakes games in the casino, so I could trade in a ten-dollar chip and even without a win, stay busy for a decent amount of time.

I reached in my bag and pulled out my pocket watch again, double-checking the time. Six thirty. We had about an hour and a half before the last scheduled stop for the evening, and after that, the dance floor would open up, a prospect I found a lot more appealing than gambling, especially since I was the one who knew exactly how much we were losing on this little trip.

I shook my head and tried another smile, hoping this one would stick. After all, we'd budgeted for the games, and nobody had a way of losing us more than that. I had one of the company cards, and Maria had the other, so if someone got a little too gung ho and needed a loan when we got to Marisol, we had a way of helping to cover things, but all in all, much as I might angst about it, I knew that we were good on money for the trip and that I should just enjoy myself.

If only it were that easy.

I took another look around the room and finally settled down at one of the low-stakes poker tables, not that far away from where Brian was concentrating on the roulette wheel. I placed my chips on the table, and the dealer gave me a pleased nod. "Texas hold 'em, no wilds," he reminded me, then waited for my nod before he proceeded to begin his deal.

I'd just folded on my second hand when Maria showed up.

"Winning?" She asked me after tapping my shoulder, then handing me a drink.

"Not yet, but not really losing either," I said, giving the glass a suspicious look. "Another orange juice?"

"Nope! Fuzzy navel," she said, grinning.

"Ooh," I said, taking a ginger sip and smiling. "Thanks."

"Can I get a toast for the camera before we move on?"

'Sure." I did just that, with a much more genuine smile this time, and when the camera operator gave us a thumbs up, Maria hugged me.

"There ya go. I'll get ya another drink when that one gets low."

"I mean, one'll probably do me."

"Not tonight, girl!" She said, slapping my shoulder then stepping away laughing.

I shook my head, but I was still smiling when I turned back to the table.

#

The clanging of the bell announcing our stop was alarming, and I let out an embarrassed eep that got the other players at my table laughing.

I looked at my cards. I looked at the river. I looked at my empty glass, my third since settling down at the table. I looked at the small pile of chips before me, mostly reds and oranges.

I looked back at my hand again and thought.

What the hell.

"All in," I said, pushing my entire pile of chips toward the center.

"The lady goes all in. That's... one hundred twenty-five dollars," the dealer announced after a quick assessment of my chips.

"Fold."

"Shit. Fold."

"Call."

"Fold."

I looked across the table at the man who had called my bet. He looked like he was tall, but it was hard to tell with us all sitting down, and I doubted he was as tall as Brian. He had sandy hair, a broad build, and was giving me a smile I couldn't help but smile back at. When I did, he added a wink, and I found myself blushing.

"Players, reveal your hands," the dealer said, distracting me from the fuzzy feeling in my head that the wink and my three drinks had caused.

"Oh, uhh, straight," I said, laying down my hand next to the river. My ten and eight combined with the three jacks, nine, and queen on the table left me confident I had a strong chance of winning.

"Very good. And you, sir?"

The man across from me was still grinning and laid down his own hand. "Full house," he said, showing two aces.

"Well, shit."

I whimpered as I watched the dealer help the man scrape all the chips on the table his way, then hung my head in defeat.

"Hey, don't feel bad. You played really well," the man said.

"Not well enough to win."

"Yeah, well. There's different ways of winning," the guy said, handing me a scrap of paper as he stood up from the table and traded chips with the dealer for a more portable collection.

I took the paper, confused, but before I could check it was further distracted by Maria once again appearing at my shoulder.

"Hey, dance floor's opening up, and we need to get some shots there. You ready to head out?"

"Umm, yeah," I said, glancing back down at the now-empty table before me. I went to stand up, only for my head to begin swimming the moment I did so, leaving me leaning on the table for balance. "Whoa!’

Maria giggled and offered me an arm for balance. "A little tipsy?"

"Maybe a little," I agreed, finding myself giggling with her as I fought to find my center, once again thankful my boots were short and chunky.

"Good. Loosen ya up," she said, helping me take a few steps until I felt I had my balance again, then letting me go.

I thought that would be it, until I felt another arm wrap around mine from the other side. I looked up, and there was Brian, smiling down at me, which for some reason made me giggle again.

"Heya, mind if I escort you to the club floor?"

"Sure thing, Burg," I told him, doing my best to stay in character. "Are we going to dance?"

Brian gave me an amused grin. "Do you want to?"

"Maybe."

"Then maybe."

"Cool."

I giggled again.

Giggled?

Whatever.

-==-

NOTES:

Sorry this is a day late. Things have been crazy this side of things.

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Comments

Inhibitions...

RachelMnM's picture

Dampened with a little liquid catalyst? Giggles? Oh my... And maybe even an alternate way to "win" via some guys room number? Leigh's being pursued and not just by Brian (Burg). Enjoyable chapter! Thank you for posting and the effort you soaked into creating this fun story!

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

A little liquid courage goes a long way

and Leigh's been in desperate need of relaxing a bit. Wonder what comes next?

(Oh, wait, it's on Patreon :P )

Melanie E.

The plank

I had hoped the captain had made the director walk the plank. Well, maybe another time.

Thx for another nice chapter^^

Y'arrr!

Some people get the wrong idea about who's the boss when on other folks' turf. Directors are part of that group.

Melanie E.

High and Low Justice

Emma Anne Tate's picture

Don’t mess with captains when their vessel is on the water. Absolute monarchs, every one!

They may be the Wednesday Knights, but they’re also my Thursday Mornings. Thursday Afternoons work, too — or really, any time at all. Such a delightful story!

Thanks, Melanie!

Emma

Hmm, do captains still have a

Hmm, do captains still have a "toolbox" with whips in them? >:->

*hugs*

We have a writing group every other Wednesday that takes a lot of effort. When I first started writing this story posting it every Wednesday wasn't really part of the plan, so yeah: it gets a bit flustercating at times :)

Melanie E.

Possibly!

Maybe it was his drink bill, just to rub it in?

Hmmm, I doubt it.

Melanie E.

Pretending to to be pregnant

Angharad's picture

and then getting tipsy, not a good example to set. What was on the paper the stranger gave her? Hmm...

Angharad

Maybe not,

but she's not actually pregnant, is she? And nobody's asked to confirm....

Melanie E.

It's a good job..

Lucy Perkins's picture

That Brian was there to pick up the pieces of Tipsy Leigh...
I hate to think what might have happened if the Poker Man had asked her for a dance..
"You've got to know
when to hold 'em
when to fold 'em
when to walk away
and when to run"
Loved this chapter! Lucyxx

"Lately it occurs to me..
what a long strange trip its been."

Brian's pretty good

at keeping an eye on Leigh. He's been doing it for a good long while, usually despite Maria's best attempts to get Leigh in even more trouble :P

Melanie E.

this is wonderful

Alyson Greaves's picture

So I shotgunned this story from start to finish today. I should have been doing other things but I was having too much fun reading this. Wonderful work :)

Thankew!

I'm having a lot of fun writing it too!

My only problem is it keeps growing on me D:

Melanie E.

believe me, I know the

Alyson Greaves's picture

believe me, I know the feeling (I have a monstrosity of a story that is approaching 600,000 words with no end in sight)

a terrible problem to have as a writer, but a delightful quirk to witness as a reader

600k?!

I don't think everything I've ever written equals that added together! Fantastic!

(I checked out your Twitter link, too. Interesting book concept!

Melanie E.

Thank you! It was a sh*tpost

Alyson Greaves's picture

Thank you! It was a sh*tpost that entirely got away from me (and now helps pay my rent, which is baffling)