Gambling was not unfamiliar to Rosemary. After all, there had been a chapter of her life where she’d probably set foot in every kind of establishment that served alcohol in the entire northern hemisphere. Casinos weren’t really a preferred haunt of hers, but the idea of a casual game of poker between some acquaintances seemed amenable enough to her enjoyment. It didn’t hurt to establish good relationships with co-workers.
She had not really dressed up much at all: most of the things she normally wore in the evening would have been dreadfully unsuited to polite company, but she managed to find it in herself to wear a neat, crisp lavender shirt with some black slacks. Had she had more notice, she might have set aside something nicer…though when she poked her head into the door and saw her company for the night, she maybe considered that the dress code wasn’t so much about looking tidy as it was about giving an impression of effort.
“I hope I’m not overdressed for the occasion.” As she shed her woolen coat in the doorway she nodded in greetings to her peers. “I shall concede it difficult to find clothes built for eleven-foot juggernauts, but I feel like the market might be kinder to you, Slick.” Her laugh was short and to the point, though not exactly antagonistic. It was no secret that she had a penchant for ribbing her cohorts - best to at least warm them up to it.
“The only Maria here tonight is the one sitting in my bedroom, though She’s a little stone faced, even for you.” The entries kept coming, ribbing started up. Yeah. Droog would have bet actual money at least one of the cats was packing a knife. Just like the old days.
After coats were hung and money collected, Dan walked over to the bar. “Do any of ya want a drink?” he asked, smiling a little. Despite his past, Dan had always been a shit gambler, but hosting poker night gave him an opportunity to watch the sharks fight each other. You could tell a lot about a person by how they fought, and poker was just as cutthroat and a back-alley scuffle any day.
He poured himself some neat scotch as he gave everyone a moment to ask for other drinks and light their smokes. Besides, he knew Saloz would need a moment to rearrange his furniture and make himself a seat.
“Maybe if everyone has a nice time tonight we can watch a fight one night,” he suggested, “Though gettin’ a screen will be a bugger n’a half.” His movements were more fluid on his home turf, less rigid, and his voice wasn’t quite so gravelly.
