Gotham Pool Tables 소설 & 이야기

And a white fluffy faux rug lay under that couch, inviting to be used. But what caught my attention the most was a big pool table of sky blue in the middle of the room. A bloody pool table? Why this honeymoon cottage have a study or a pool table, I will never know. Sometimes it's really difficult to understand rich people and their idea of interest. The fourth door, the glass one I realize was gym. I can see all the training equipments inside through the transparent glass, along with Brandon. He was on the floor, shirtless, doing pushups. His back facing the door.

When we arrive, we head straight up stairs to the Alpha table near the pool table, the bartender brings our beers, and we rack up the table while dad sips on his beer looking around the room. He must have spotted someone he knew because suddenly he gets up and walks towards the outside patio that wraps around the bar. I shrug and take my turn on the pool table sinking tree balls in a row, missing the fourth I watch while Jax sink his last balls then the eight ball… “Well, that was a quick game” I laugh shaking his hand. Jax is our packs best pool player I’m not bad, but I rarely beat him. Sometimes I wonder why I even try.

Or at least I think that until it starts to get sleazy. A few more women arrive, but these ones are definitely whores. Or escorts, whatever they’re called these days. “Saint, let’s get closer to the action,” I say and pull him up. He growls, but we leave our table to walk to the open section outside, where a big pool illuminates the backyard. There’s two big poker tables where some men are playing cards, two normal tables and a few lounging couches. We go sit down at one of the empty ones, close to a table filled with very loud men.

he declared, his voice resonating with a mix of confidence and anticipation. Georgina found herself entranced by the scene unfolding before her. It was her first encounter with the game of Poker, and she couldn't help but be captivated by the meticulous arrangement of the table. The dealer expertly positioned the cards, ensuring every detail was in place. A small sign caught her eye, bearing the words "Table minimum bet: five thousand euros." It was a stark reminder of the high stakes involved in this game.

When Charlie, Stephanie, and Claudia followed Gopher, they realized that there was another hidden room downstairs. A large hall hosting about one hundred and fifty to sixty square meters entered their vision, filled with all types of gambling tables. A dealer stood at every gambling table. Yet, some tables had less customers than the others. It only took Charlie one glance to know that business was terrible. Half of the gambling tables had no customers. Some tables had only one player, and other tables had at most three to five players. Suffice to say, it made for a rather dull mood.

One cue stick was lying awkwardly on the table, while the others were stacked in a corner beside an unopened crate labeled "imported -Monte Carlo collection," Beside the snooker section, someone had set up a faux poker table with mismatched chairs and a half unrolled red carpet leading to it. A roulette wheel sat lopsided on a stand, its golden spinner still wrapped in plastic. There was even a fake money machine tucked against the wall-probably for that dramatic "raining cash" effect. Right now, it just blinked with a red error light.

He finally lets go of me, only because we’ve gotten to the pool table. What was that? “Loser drinks,” Kimberly informs us. Or rather, Jude. “Or strips,” she adds, and I notice that quite a few fellas around, both girls and boys, are shirtless. You know what? Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea. As long as I don’t play, of course. “Walker! Want to take me on?” Caleb, the goalkeeper, asks. He’s holding a pool stick, and he has all his clothes on. He also doesn’t look tipsy. I’m guessing he’s the one to beat. “First to three wins.”

It sucked coming home to find everything dominated by these idiots. Walking through the office of the small three-story building on Chittenden Ave, the clubhouse, down the stairs towards the ground floor I see in the second floor hallway, Darkness and Luck playing pool the new recruit pouring drinks, I went downstairs looking for the missing ones not I wasn't surprised at all by the moaning down the stairs, Cade and Demon fucking a bitch, interested in getting votes to join the club.

Lindy places our drinks on the bar. “Hey, the fifty/fifty draw closes tonight. You still have time to get tickets. Half the money is going towards a pool table for the back room and some pin ball machines if we make enough.” “Oh, I’m in.” Margo fishes her wallet out of her purse. “Come on, Kaitlyn, fork it over. This town could use a good games room.” I request three tickets from Lindy as she works her way down the bar collecting for the cause.

We took the elevator up to the eighth floor, and Noah rang the doorbell of one of the units. A fierce-looking, burly man answered the door. When he saw Noah, he immediately put on a fawning smile. "You're here, Mr. Grant. Mr. Somner is waiting for you." Once inside, I realized the place was anything but ordinary. It was lavishly decorated, with crystal chandeliers and genuine leather couches everywhere. But what stood out the most were the tables in the center of the room. Each table was surrounded by several people, piled high with cash and chips.