The Deadly Seven

Ryder Dannons [7/7]

Clutching a beautiful, smiling girl against his hip, blue-eyed-and-blond-haired Ryder Dannon strutted up the warehouse aisle. Giving his girl a kiss or two against the temple, he explained to her in great detail about fermentation of wine and what made French bread so tasty. He looked like the typical Hollywood model, not to mention he was also from Great Britain, and he was obsessed with the culinary arts. He was twenty-seven and had graduated from college in Charlotte, North Carolina before moving to New York as a professional caterer. Apart from his cooking skills and good looks, he had a tendency to spend his money on only the finest of foods. He considered that he had good taste and that his friends should also indulge themselves, even if it was pressing their budgets.

"I'll get you anything you want," he whispered to his girlfriend as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He didn't care if others were watching.

"I just want you, Ryder. I don't need anything fancy or whatever. I just want you."

"No, no, I know you want me. But what can I get you that'll make you happy?" He kissed her forehead and waited for her reply, ignorant at the words she had just confessed to him.

Lowering her head and biting at her bottom lip, his girlfriend pulled against his arms. "Ryder, you can stop buying me stuff and just do this. Spend time with me-I'm happy."

"All right, if you say so." Ryder's arms dropped from her and he sulked down the aisle. He stopped in front of the winery and his hand traced over a dark wine bottle. "This is "Ad Vivum." It's been imported from California, Napa Valley. Cabernet Sauvignon 2007."

In a soft voice, the girl replied, "I know. You tell me that every time we come here. I'm beginning to think I know more about wines and cheese than you."

"So? You know that this is my life. This is what I do well."

"Oh, okay." The girl tried to hide her tears as she straightened her shoulders and inhaled deeply. "Yeah, you're right, what am I thinking? You do do this stuff very well. But you shouldn't try to love me, then."

"What do you mean?" Ryder scoffed. "I do love you."

"No, you don't. It's like, now that I'm here, you can do whatever you want. Before you had me, you had the wine and the fame and the career. And then you found me and thought I was better than all that, you did, you really did. I don't think you remember that."

"I do," Ryder said casually as he poured himself a sample cup from a 1943 bottle of brandy. "I still do."

Breaking into tears, the girl stepped forward. Her hands came together and her fingers worked a diamond ring off. Covering her face with one hand, she placed the ring on the sample table beside Ryder's cup and left the warehouse. Ryder watched her, but didn't cry. He was, indeed, emotionally stirred and hated seeing her go. But his priorities had been so twisted that he didn't even think about going after her. Pouring one more cup, he chucked the rest of the biting alcohol into his mouth and pulled out his cellphone. He dialed a number and waited as the line hummed.

"Hello, Rory King."

"Hey, Rory, long time no speak, yeah? I don't know if you remember me, I'm Ryder Connelly, I cater many of your parties-,"

"Yeah, I remember you. You sat down and played several hands. You were good-can't remember your food though."

Slightly offended, Ryder held back his politeness and returned in a stiff voice, "Sorry about that. You're sometimes a hard guest to please."

"What do you want?"

"I don't know. Get the boys together. We can play a hand tonight. I'm up for it if they're up for it."

There was a pause on Rory's side.

"Rory?"

Chuckling in his deep, baritone voice, Rory said, "Did she finally get rid of you? I figured she would. You wouldn't have called if there wasn't a glitch like that in your life."

"She did ditch me, all right? But let's not talk about that at the table. I need money-,"

"Everyone does when they gamble.  You should know that."

"Yeah, well, the business is in debt. So, I thought I'd chance it."

"Can't sympathize with you there-- I'm betting against you, remember?

"Yeah, well, just had to tell someone."

"Oh well, life's life, right? And yes, I can arrange something. Been over five months since we've all gotten together-glad you gave me a ring."

"Yeah. Text me the details later."

Rory hung up without a word.

Dropping his phone back into his pocket, Ryder shook his head slowly. He hadn't played poker in awhile. He knew he was going to be extremely rusty, especially up against practicing players like Jim, Finn, Kale, and Rory. At least Winston was an equally sore player. Blowing his cheeks out in relief of finding an escape after the break-up, Ryder left the warehouse to check his bank balance at a local ATM. He wanted to be fully prepared, even if he would be the first player out.