‘I prefer to be thankful for the employment I have. Keep those dreams in your pretty little head. That’s where they belong.’
Kitty chuckled to herself, patting Misu’s arm, who reciprocated the gesture.
Corinne busied herself by pulling another series of brown bottles from under the counter and balancing them on a silver serving tray. It wasn’t her remit to educate the girls on etiquette, especially ones like Kitty who seemed to be more trouble than she was comfortable with, but still she found herself playing an almost older sibling role to the younger ones. She was one whose inexperience was blindly apparent, and whose curiosity could become an irritant to patrons.
‘They’re big spenders those two,’ Corinne stated, popping each cork in succession. ‘Been quaffing liquor since they arrived – good stuff too. They opened a bottle of Eiferian Blue Reserve half an hour back. The only one I know who drinks something so pricy is Franco himself. They’re high rollers too. I heard a mention of a couple of hundred on the last hand they played,’ she stated, before shimmying over to a pack of customers who cheered at the alcohol’s arrival.
Misu picked up a bottle and quickly checked her appearance in its reflection; she brushed in any loose strands of hair and sneakily readjusted her bosom. She brushed her fingers around Kitty’s hip as she sauntered past.
‘Then it would only be suitable to make sure these fine gentlemen are well catered for, would it not?’
A woman like Misu knew how to approach men. A small saunter to her hips, a wry smile, a sparkle in the eyes and purse of the lips normally resulted in a marked increase in tips, and everyone wanted a little more spending money. So when Misu approached these high rollers, distributing the bottle’s liquor into each tumbler with her full bosom overshadowing the pile of chips, their attention was equitably obtained.
The nearest of the men tipped his bowler hat and scaled Misu’s form with a slow climb of his eyes. He whistled equally as long, pressing his back into the seat and placing his cards down.
‘My word.’ He smiled, grinning beneath a ginger goatee. His cards were slapped onto the table before him, the result of a rare, failed bluff. ‘What do I spy here? What a face. Eyes of the Holy Sorceress herself – look at them. Please, would you do us the honour of gracing us with your company, miss?’
Chair legs dragged along concrete as a seat was offered out, the ginger one giving a smile that only an older man with aged charm could give. His wink was coquettishly ignored. His ginger moustache fluttered momentarily as Misu eyed up his gold. The pocket watch chain draped to his breast pocket was an instinctive focal point. The thick bracelet at his wrist was elaborate yet cleanly stylish. The wealth on this man was easy to assess. The way the tweed suit fitted him was nothing short of perfect, with the material and stitching utterly flawless. The leather wallet, clearly placed in view as cards launched over it, was stuffed with notes that would have easily amounted to the hundreds, if not tipping a thousand. His friend, though dressed in much darker colours, mirrored the resplendence. Oiled hair was slicked back, a sharp brow egging on Misu’s agreement.
‘How could I refuse such an invitation?’
As if it was her right to do so, Misu slipped her arm over the ginger man’s hefty shoulders, draping herself over him and watching the next hand unfold. ‘What is the game, gents?’
‘Poker. Five Draw,’ the man in the darker suit revealed, tossing another red chip into the stack. ‘Is there anything finer in this world?’
‘We cater for all games of all types here at the Den, though Poker is considered one of choice by our patrons.’
‘And are you a fan?’ the darker-dressed man asked.
‘I’m familiar with the cards though am not one for a game myself. I prefer watching the beauty of chance at work. Roulette, I’m especially fond of.’
Misu watched as the ginger one folded after a far too brave a bluff. The deck was cut once more, cards skimming into two piles.
‘You gamble well?’ Misu enquired.
‘Gamble? No,’ the dark-suited one stated without looking over his raised cards. ‘Win, though? All the time.’
A pair of Kings forced the ginger fellow to relinquish the pot with a playful groan. Misu cleared her throat and watched the cards slice over the table felt. The darker man made subtle movements, though the speed of the cards as a result was quite surprising.
‘A talented flicking of the wrist. What are your other skills?’ she asked.
The darker man grunted and played his cards with a grin. ‘Taking Flenn’s money.’ He gestured with a slim finger towards his friend who slid over a pair of notes after losing the pot once more. ‘I’m awfully good at that.’
‘If only you were just as invested in your work. I bet the boss would appreciate your newfound passion. Maybe even reward you for such.’
There was a bustle of laughs across the table as Misu refilled each emptied glass in turn.
‘Business is it? I’m not sure if we allow that here. It takes something from the atmosphere, if you catch my meaning.’
They eyed each other, returning grins.
‘Exactly. Drink?’ he offered.
‘I shouldn’t do so.’
‘There are plenty of things we shouldn’t do in a lifetime, but this is not one. Come, I insist.’ He gestured once more. Relinquishing, Misu took the liquor and nodded in turn.
‘And you’re too fine for me to object. To the good health of you both.’
Flenn smacked his lips after a long, slow draw of the glass’s contents.
‘And to yours,’ he said.
It was common for the girls on the Gambler’s Den to find their favourite patrons at each destination. This was, of course, all part of the grand ruse. Pretty girls at a man’s side were more than likely to encourage good business. Plays of hands become much more daring in attempts to impress. Stakes were raised, unspoken possibilities of companionship for the night were implied but never fulfilled. The girls knew the tricks, the wordplay, the innuendos, and the playful press on the customer. It all ensured that the men’s natural bravado was encouraged and they parted with the one thing, the only thing, that mattered.
Money.
Without that money, the Gambler’s Den could not travel. Its upkeep was quite an expense. Without money for supplies, it would be easy to find death in the desert – especially on the Sand Sea routes to the south. Without money, wages could not be paid. Without money, as with almost all things, progress would come to an immediate halt.
So Misu, as experienced as she was in picking a patsy, attempted to ensure that the number of notes in the wallet before her was substantially decreased. In doing so, she lowered her guard.
There were another few plays of cards, buffs called, wealth lost, before conversation resumed once more.
‘Speaking of talents, pretty thing,’ Flenn casually mentioned. ‘Surely you have many of your own. Care to share them?’
‘Ah, none of note or of any relevance, sirs.’
‘Apart from that spectacular display of breathing fire. Who would have possibly imagined that someone so pretty harboured a skill so dramatic! Now if someone dared to impart a tale that they saw a woman like yourself do such a thing, why, I would accuse them of being a liar and stake as much as I had in my pockets on the fact!’
She laughed at the compliment, cheeks flushed and red.
‘My, that boss of yours must juggle concern knowing full well that you could set him aflame with your very lips. I’m guessing he carries a pail of water wherever he goes. Sleeps with one beside him too for good measure, I’ll bet!’ Flenn laughed, loud and bold. This seemingly