Chapter Thirteen
The Classic
A t around the time room service came knocking on the bure’s front door, Victoria had also just turned on the deck’s lights. It was a preemptive measure for the impending shift from twilight into early night. Some light cloud coverage, low and distant, had finally connected with the base of the falling sun. Muddled beams of golden-orange light poured through them, doing their best to resist the tug of night. In another thirty or forty minutes, they could finally see their first Fijian sunset.
After accepting their food and drinks—not all of which was alcoholic, as Avril had apparently been talked into checking out a supposedly legendary mango smoothie by another of the resort’s guests—at the door, they all helped carry them back to the towels on the deck. Naturally, Avril took up the task of transporting the undoubtedly expensive champagne and red wine she’d selected. Both buried in ice buckets, they’d become the centerpieces at the center of their circle.
All in all, they ended up with an array of five plump glasses of mango smoothies because, of course, Avril had ordered one for everyone, five tall champagne flutes, and five rotund wine glasses. Between them and the delicious-looking meals sitting on the towels, it was undoubtedly quite a spread.
So, naturally, everyone tried a little bit of everything. Their gourmet room service turned into a bit of a potluck, with bowls passed around, plates slid over, and bodies leaning to dip a spoon or fork into their neighbor’s meal. The soup that Tess and Avril had opted for turned out to be fantastic, and Liam figured it’d probably show up again in front of at least one person at tomorrow’s lunch or dinner. His cassoulet proved to be slightly rich for his tastes, but most of the others gave it high marks. And the touted smoothies proved to be as sweet and creamy as promised. Good, but he and the group sipped rather than chugged.
Having minimal experience with wine or champagne but aware that Avril could probably have ordered some ridiculous cocktails at the restaurant, he gave them both a shot. After Avril showed off her “skills” and popped the cap, the distinct hiss following, she made sure no one was without a bubbly flute of crystalline champagne.
“Everyone, everyone,” she said, raising her glass.
Her captive audience—more literally than figuratively, as she owned the jet—pinched the stems of their glasses, raised them, and brought them together in a jovial toast. Soft clinks filled the air, tittering about. Liam took a mildly brief sip, experiencing an acidic note along the journey. And… not liking it all that much. He knew Avril would never have gone for anything but what she considered the best and, therefore, likely one of the most expensive options, so he tried to hide his distaste by keeping the glass to his lips until one or two others had finished their first drink. But he didn’t come back to the champagne.
Contrarily, he found the red wine far smoother and easier to enjoy. It was a Pinot Noir, which was a brand he recognized: his mother had a couple of bottles of theirs at home. Avril informed him and Tess—okay, so really just Tess—of the details that the other three women had received at the resort. It was from 2014, had all sorts of accolades, and ought to be worth every penny.
At the very least, it tasted far, far better than the champagne, at least to Liam. More floral, easier to imbibe, it was ripe and fruity on the way down his throat, with spices he couldn’t fully identify mixed in. It was good enough for him to expect to finish a glass over the course of the night. Between it and the smoothie, he was good.
That would tie him at the bottom of the list with Anna. Avril, Tess, and Victoria would all indulge a fair bit more. Of course, he and Anna probably both knew what they were: lightweights. And at least he was far from being a connoisseur. He could only guess how often Anna had sampled champagne, wine, and so on at lavish parties. Or how often Avril convinced her to drink with her at their apartment.
Around when they’d finished off the spread of gourmet food, the event they’d been waiting for arrived. In near-perfect unison, eyes shifted toward the sunset. Finally touching the horizon, dipping its toe into the ocean like a swimmer checking the water’s warmth, the sun cast the very edge of the world in a dazzling but soft gold and orange. It hovered there, reticent to dip itself fully in, but ultimately without a choice.
Throughout the next few minutes, it continued its gradual descent. With it, like a hand reaching out to grab a tablecloth, it slowly tugged the golden hues along with it. As those colors receded above them, grays, blues, and even some purples slipped into place. Lower and lower, until finally, the sun would hide itself from them. Its light remained for a while longer, yet the richness of gold on the horizon would slowly fade. Eventually, barely more than a receding sherbert would remain on the horizon, and that too would eventually cede to the shadows of the night—and a dazzling cast of starlight unlike any that Liam had ever seen.
But that was yet to come. For now, after spending a handful of minutes in near total silence, with only the gentle murmur of a calm ocean audible on this secluded beach, they had a game to play. The stargazing would come later.
“Ready for some cards?” Avril asked, voice quieter than usual. It was as if she didn’t want to jolt them out of their trances but slowly help their consciousnesses flow back to the forefront.
Over the next few seconds, the attention cast out to sea drew itself back to the gawkers on the deck. That attention ebbed toward Avril, who quickly held up a deck of cards. It’d been sitting on a towel for a while, waiting for its moment. Much like Avril had.
“What do you want to play?” Tess asked, and Liam knew she was also now remembering the “price” they’d paid for Avril’s earlier aid.
“A classic,” Avril said, then shook her head. “No, the classic. Here we are, on one of the most beautiful beaches in the world, all looking our best.” Like the sunset in reverse, Avril’s smile slowly grew. She didn’t waste any more time on the preamble. “So, lad and ladies, I want to play strip poker.”
“Of course you do,” Victoria remarked.
Nearby, Anna sighed.
Yet, Liam recognized what didn’t happen. No one rushed to say no. Flat remarks and sighs, while neighbors on the same block, didn’t live in the same house as immediate denial. Liam glanced toward Tess, wondering how she’d go about “helping” Avril get what she wanted. And what she might also want, potentially.
“If not now, then when?” Avril said. “If Fiji isn’t the place to set aside inhibitions, then where? When? Isn’t this the right time to experience something new? Something exciting? I’m mostly referring to you two, Liam, Anna, because I’m sure Tess and Victoria haven’t gone their entire lives without playing this classic game.”
Neither woman said anything. Neither woman refuted anything.
“If not now, then when?” the redheaded mastermind repeated. “If it’s no fun, I won’t bring it up again. Any future card games, here or later, can be as chaste as a mom’s idea of her teenage daughter.”
Anna frowned at the metaphor but still didn’t shut the door on the possibility. Nor did Victoria. So, now was Tess’s time to shine.
“Each round of poker can take a long time,” the gorgeous brunette said. “Yes, it’s not that late, but it might be a long while before there’s a true ‘winner.’”
“Liam?” Avril asked. “Have you a solution to the issue of speediness?”
The full attention of the group slid toward him. In a way, it both thrilled and unnerved him. As a matter of fact, he did know the right way to speed up the game. And well, he wanted to play this game too.
“Normally, we bet with chips,” he reminded everyone. “With rounds of betting throughout each round. If we want to keep things flowing pretty quickly, then we should cut down on all that. I guess the person with the worst hand would just lose a piece of clothing, nothing more. But to add a little spice to the game, I’d recommend dealing two hands to each person—a normal one, which they can look at, then a facedown pair they can’t look at.”
So far, so good. No disproving looks, no shaking heads, no refusals.
“After the flop, each of us can make one decision per round: do we want to keep our current two cards or swap to the two unknown cards? That should keep the game a little fun, so you aren’t just immediately hosed if you get a bad hand. It also means there’ll be no folding—we all play to the end in every round.”
“Those rules sound like they fix the pacing problem,” Avril said.
For the third time in a row, a statement went unrefuted.
It seemed that this really was going to happen. There was a momentum to it, coaxed into being by Avril. Yet, it wasn’t wholly because of her. Liam knew his work, both words and actions, played a part in Anna and Victoria not shutting this down. This would be a step further, for all five of them.
And so, he wore as neutral an expression as he could manage. A herculean task, given how quickly his blood flowed through his veins. It took all his effort not to vibrate with excitement.
“One more rule, though,” Avril said, lifting a finger. “So that we don’t end up naked too quickly.”
Liam’s eyebrows weren’t the only pair to furrow. Wasn’t that… the goal?
“If the one of us with the worst hand doesn’t want to lose an article of clothing, they can crawl over to the person with the best hand and engage in whispered negotiation with them. They can offer something to that player, say a hug, a kiss, or a promise to sit on the winner’s lap during the next round—anything, really; it’ll be up to the loser and winner to reach a deal that suits them both—and avoid losing a piece of clothing. Only other thing, though, is that what is offered must occur right then and there—so no promising things for tomorrow or a year from now or anything like that. Got it?”
As it had when they’d been watching the sunset, silence permeated the air around them. Perhaps had it gone on long enough, Victoria or Anna might have eventually worked out a single refusal, which might then have snowballed into the entire event collapsing.
But the silence didn’t go on long enough. Drawing a deep breath, then lightly sighing, Tess proved an excellent actress.
“Alright, Avril. I’ll play with these rules. But no promises about any future games. This is a special night, our first night in Fiji. For bringing me on this trip, against my better judgment, I’ll play along.”
One bead on the abacus shifted toward the left—Avril’s way. It was enough to start letting gravity—inevitability—do the rest.
Following Tess’s agreement, Liam felt safe enough to do the same. He nodded and agreed to play. That left them at three for and two still undecided.
“Very well,” Victoria eventually said, refilling her wine glass.
And then Annabelle Royce, no longer deserving to ever be jokingly called prudish by her best friend again, also agreed.