When Table Turns Novels & Stories

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.

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.

"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.

The group settled into a loose circle, waiting, the anticipation building with every minute. A sharp ping made Adrea glance at her phone. The app had lit up with a bold notification: Table 47. Round One. Please proceed within ten minutes. Her pulse quickened. This was it. “They’ve started calling tables,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She showed the screen to Aris, who leaned closer, his hand brushing lightly against her arm. “Forty-seven,” he repeated with a small smile. “Come on, I’ll walk you there. Do you need a bathroom break before you get situated? They will have one after every two to three hours anyway.”

They remained in their position, breathing hard but no one dare ruin the human table they'd formed. "Congrats to you all. You reached this stage," said Mel and the audience applauded. "Now this stage will decide whether you get to claim the prize or not. Don't worry, even if you lose you'd still get something special," said Mel. Someone came over carrying four thick wooden boards and started placing them on the four teams' chests. "Now the crucial part is here. I'm gonna close my eyes and pick a random person. Whoever I pick will get the chance to do whatever he wants to the table. Are we clear?" he asked and the audience replied with a resounding: "Yes!"

The heat flushes in my cheek as he looks up from his glass with a gaze I can’t quite read. “Oh so that is why you want to teach me to play ? So you can get the table”. I wiggle my eyebrows. “Of course”. He sends me a mischievous smile and points at the table. “Your turn”. When his eyes are no longer resting on me I realise that I have been holding my breath. I take a deep breath and walk down to the end of the table and the red ball. “Just hit it straight on and a bit hard”. He says encouragingly and comes to stand on the opposite side.

It wasn't something I wanted to announce anyway, and I planned to keep it as hidden as possible until it was apparent. The plump woman standing before me raised an eyebrow. "Open your eyes, Katie, and not everyone is settled yet. Table 13 needs attention." And true to what she said, the girls sitting there had nothing on their table. "Oh," I exclaimed, straightening. "Yeah, see ya." Milicent shook her head with a slight smile on her face. That same slightly exasperated smile that she reserved for when she was speaking to me.