I have long wanted to write a storyline that is different to anything else that has been published on this site. This is it.
Although the central theme of the publication is poker, I have constructed the story so that it also works for those who have no interest in that subject and who wish to skip those sections.
A number of the situations have been inspired by some of the small band of authors whose work I immensely admire. I have attempted to occasionally incorporate a flavour of their imagination in this story, in tribute to them. Without their inspiration, this story would not have been told.
This is my first attempt at writing and I know that having completed the novel, I have learnt so much more than I knew at the outset. Two areas of feedback are welcomed:
1. Encouragement that will inspire me to write more... and constructive criticisms that will help me improve.
2. Voting that will help me assess the enjoyment factor.... or otherwise.
CHAPTER TWO: VEGAS AWAITS
It was the night of the tournament. There were one hundred and twenty-two entrants, all of whom were looking for their own piece of glory. Three seats at the World Series were on offer, together with two 'consolation' cash prizes for those in fourth and fifth position. But whilst those consolation prizes would further help Daniel's poker bank balance, and significantly so, there was only one prize he had in mind. That was a seat at the World Series.
That was even more important now, he realised, following Grace's comment about Lauren. It felt like a challenge to his male ego... no pressure there, then, he thought, but if anything he was even more focused as he sat in front of his computer. He leant back in the chair awaiting the tournament bell that would soon burst forth, signalling the impending start of a journey to his destiny. He was so concentrated that he hardly noticed when Grace silently padded out of the bedroom.
Her artificial rasping cough, designed to gain his attention, jerked him from his thoughts. He gave a little jump of surprise and swung his black, low-backed computer chair in her direction. She had deliberately adopted a provocative stance, her slim back resting against the bedroom door and tanned hand resting on her shapely hip. Daniel's eyes widened when he saw her pose, and he gave a low whistle as his eyes surveyed the small, black, cocktail dress she was wearing.
"You look fantastic," he blurted, almost involuntarily.
"Thank you," Grace purred, not altogether appreciatively, crossing her tanned arms whilst maintaining the pose.
She slowly pushed herself up and away from the door and took a single step forward, arching her back so as to emphasise the cleavage of her breasts that were prominently displayed over the low cut top.
"Would you like to come with me tonight," she said, her soft voice deliberately low, knowing in advance what the answer would be.
"I can't, Grace," he replied, raising an eyebrow at the question. "You know that."
"Do I?" she asked, her voice heavy with disdain. "And why is that, Daniel. Why is it that we never seem to go anywhere together nowadays? Please explain?"
She took another step closer as he sighed. They both knew they had played out this scene before. He did not reply, not wanting to get involved in an argument just before the biggest poker game of his life.
"Well?" Grace quizzically asked, knowing how difficult she was being.
"Grace, you know I'm playing in a poker tournament. I've explained all that to you, haven't I? You know what the prize is!" His voice was becoming exasperated.
Grace sighed deeply, and then threw down the challenge. "Is poker more important than an evening with me?"
This was an argument that Daniel knew he could not win. He rose swiftly from the swinging chair and in a couple of steps had closed the small distance between them.
"You know it isn't," he responded, attempting to take her in his arms.
"It isn't?" she repeated, fixing him with a piercing stare and taking a step back even as he moved towards her.
"Grace, if I finish in the first three, we win a trip to Vegas..."
"And how do you rate your chances?" she asked. "You told me there are well over a hundred people playing, most of whom have paid $600 for the privilege!"
She knew she was being unreasonable, but it was so long since they had been invited out together, she
felt
like being unreasonable.