The Deadly Seven

The Fold

Rory King stood at the grand entrance with one arm resting on the small of his back while the other greeted his guests.  One by one, the six men entered The Cobra.

“Hello, Jim, glad you good make it,” Rory said in a polite voice that sounded clearly forced.  He shook Jim’s hand, giving him a thorough look over.  “Nice suit.  Where do you get yours tailored?”

Smoothing out his dark navy blue suit, Jim gave a crooked smile.  He knew Rory always asked him his brand of suit, just to spit back how cheap it looked.  Though, Rory would never use those words, but they were implied.  “The usual, Rory, the usual.”  As he passed by the host, Jim gave him a “nice try” pat on the back.

Rory’s bottom lip twitched.  He knew Jim wouldn’t be fair game tonight.  “Ah!  Winston, glad you could make it.”

“Same here, mate, thank so much for organizing this.”  Winston was usually the life of the party—being the most quoted person out of all seven of them.  He was horrible at cards, but he lightened the mood enough that Rory continued to invite him to their dinner parties.  “Seven players tonight, right?”  Winston asked, straightening his bowtie.

“Yep,” Rory replied, “The ol’ group is back together again.”

“Well, should be a fun night.”  Winston departed and joined the other guests at the bar.

Ryder was the third guest.  He was dressed in the same suit he had worn last time, but none of the others knew it was the same except for Jim, Rory, and Winston.  “Good evening, Rory, you all right?”

“Of course,” Rory answered, giving the younger player a firm shake.  “Ah!  I see you brought your finest.”  He gestured to the wine bottle cradled between silk clothes in Ryder’s arm.

“Oh, this?  It’s just La Storia.  Where would you like it?”

“The bar’s over there where Jim is,” Rory directed. “I’m sure they’ll enjoy it—I don’t have that brand.”

Chuckling, Ryder patted Rory in a condescending manner and said lightheartedly, “Well, it’s all right.  It’s not that expensive.”  He flashed Rory an annoying row of white teeth and scampered to join the others.   

Rory’s eyes narrowed.  He didn’t care much for Ryder, except that he brought fantastic wine each time he was invited.  Turning to the doorway, Rory caught sight of Finn and Kale walking up the steps.  Finn was dressed in loose jeans and a white-button-down shirt.  He always dressed down.  Kale, on the other hand, was at least dressed appropriately for the evening in his dinner jacket and bowtie.

“Hey, Rory,” Kale greeted with a nod of his head.  “We’re not late, are we?”

“Why?  Who were you bedding down this time?”  Rory joked with a smirk as he clapped Kale on the shoulder. 

Playing along, Kale answered in a loud whisper, “Well, it was actually two girls this time, yeah?”

Finn came up behind Kale and knocked him hard on the head.  “Shut up, kid.  Actually, we got a speeding ticket.  Who all are here?”

“Jim, Winston, Ryder, and you two.  We’re still waiting on Greyson.  Of course.” 

As the three tried to find another conversation, they overheard Jim bark at Ryder with a, “God, Ryder, leave some food for us.”

“We start at eight,” Rory piped up.  “If Greyson’s late, he’ll join in the second round, sound good?”

“Sounds good.  I hate waiting,” Kale said as he walked inside.  Finn followed behind.