When Table Turns Novels & Stories

The man's face flushed with embarrassment as he quickly backed away, retreating to the back of the crowd. "Pregnant women are already prone to complications. If any of you are willing to take responsibility for her, I'll arrange a table right now," I said, scanning the room. When I met their eyes, they quickly looked away. I sneered internally. Just moments ago, they were all standing on their moral high ground. But as soon as they were asked to take responsibility, none of them dared to speak up. Just when I thought I had managed to avoid Zoey's miscarriage in my restaurant, Laurence suddenly shoved me.

They tumbled down to the second floor and splashed into the garden pond. "You!" Sheila shot me an angry look, then quickly looked sad and pulled on Elliot's shirt. "Elliot! My presents!" I just sneered, "They're just presents. You can get more." Elliot kept staring at me, like he noticed something odd. When I turned to leave, he grabbed my wrist. Right then, the butler came in to say dinner was ready. Joseph would also be home at any minute. I laughed without a care, shook off Elliot's hand, and walked to the dining room without looking back.

I start playing with my cuticles. Amy smiles at me and gets a hold of one of my hands. "Relax, they don't bite." She gestures me to go on. My hand touches the knob and I twist it. The room is completely different. Instead of the hundreds of chairs, there is just one big round black table in the room. There is a beautiful red tablecloth with lace details on the table. There are four table arrangements and they are full of food. I hear the door close behind me and I jump.

They have someone to come home to. *** The round table is a thick slab of scarred wood that doesn't so much as shake when my knife sinks an inch into the marred surface. My knife is the last to go in and means the meeting is brought to order. The men look at me, meeting my eyes, trusting that I can control Beast and be with them on equal ground.

"This game is called 'Make My Heart Race'." There are two chairs with a small round table in the middle. Each side had a paper and in front of the set up is a TV screen showing white background that is divided into two. What caught my attention was the long table where there are pies. And I'm guessing it's for punishment. The other table is a set of delicious meals and desserts which I'm guessing is the reward.

Turner who had just seen that she was upset not too long ago. "Babe, let's have dinner now" he looked her over again and nodded silently. She led him to the table, the clients following Mr. Turner who showed them their seats. The table was long enough to accommodate all the clients and was decorated with mini lily bouquets, plates and cutlery were placed accordingly by the chef assistants and they all stood by the side, the head chef in front along with Tara. They all settled down except Ashleigh who stood besides Adrian who sat at the head of the table. She could feel Tara's strong glare at the back of her head and decided to take advantage of the situation.

Because the Cross family didn't just have cards. They had the whole damn table. And they were about to flip it over.

"Controlling the burner." She pointed at me. "Exactly that." She picked up her bag. "Two hours." "I'll be here." She left and I sat at the desk and worked and understood that this was what preparation looked like for her. Not rehearsal. Removal of the unnecessary variables. She came back at noon. "Well," I said. "The corner table by the window," she said. "Not the one facing the door. The one facing the street." "Why that one." "The door-facing table puts you in a position of watching arrivals. It creates anticipation." She took her coat off. "The street-facing table means you're both looking at the same thing when the conversation needs a moment."

Every living male sitting around the table stood without question. "Drop your eyes to the floor." I commanded, and again, they did as I asked. "Turn around and walk three steps away from the table." Which they did, too. "Turn back around and look at her," I added as I walked back to my seat to pick up the jacket I had removed earlier, letting Ricky's head lull forward while he bled out at my dining table. Narrowing my eyes at the scared face of the beautiful blonde beside my table, coated in blood and china.

“You’re bluffing.” “Try me.” I licked my lips. “Unless you’re scared.” The guys around the table watch us with amusement, and my fighting talk got an ‘oooh’ out of someone. “Scared? Not of you, Bambi.” I ignored the old pet name and tilted my head. “Show your hand.” Slowly, he flipped the cards and spreaded them across the table in front of us. “Full house.” “Ooooh,” came from the guys who all folded.