Page 3 of Not that Sea-Rious

Beau

B eau couldn’t bring himself to go to the formal dinner. Sitting down at a table for two by himself in a room full of pairs and families was his personal hell. Nope. The buffet was just fine for him.

With a full belly, he strolled away from the food area and reminded himself he could resume imbibing without the risk of alcohol poisoning.

The question was, what did he want? Beer seemed like the easiest choice, but he really wasn’t in the mood for the bloating the carbonation would cause.

The champagne had been bubbly enough. As intrigued as he was by the colorful cocktails littering the piano bar menu, he wanted something simple that wouldn’t give him heartburn.

Oh. There was a temptation. Chocolate martini.

He was a big fan of chocolate milk. Lifting his brows, he bobbed his head back and forth, considering the alcohol-infused version of his favorite beverage.

Megan had always chided him for liking “girlie” drinks and not the ones she deemed manly.

Straight-up bourbon was an acquired taste and one he had no interest in obtaining.

When he indulged in adult beverages, he wanted to enjoy them, not power through. So, flavor was key. Chocolate was his favorite. Make it a martini, and well, he couldn’t think of a better combination.

Ah, hell. Why not? He was on vacation. If not now, then when?

With a wide-brimmed glass on a swirly stem, Beau meandered through the central deck of the ship. The piano bar was loud and filled with people who were too happy for his mood. He needed a better place to drink.

Sure, he could return to his suite, but he’d drunk all the booze up there already. If he was going to test the limits of his liver, he needed to be out and among the people of this fine boat.

Flashing lights and chiming bells caught his blurred attention.

Perfect. The casino.

Nothing was more depressing than a bunch of people tossing their kids’ college funds down the drain.

This was the atmosphere he required. Besides, they had waitstaff everywhere collecting beverage orders.

This space was everything he needed. He’d be spending quite a bit of time in this part of the ship.

Tipping his head back, he filled his mouth with the last bit of chocolate martini and ran his tongue along the glass to get the remnants of chocolate syrup. Now, he had to make another tough decision.

What to play? What to play?

Beau passed the rows of video games masquerading as slot machines and wrinkled his nose.

He never liked them. Hell, he couldn’t even understand what made someone a winner and what didn’t.

Zigzag lines, cartoons flashing, bonus games.

The whole process was all too confusing.

He wanted something more straightforward to take his money—slower too.

Beau didn’t gamble often. When he did, he preferred poker. Nothing was more clear-cut than good old hold ’em. Besides, he was betting against other players in that game. He stood a better chance leaving the table with money in his pocket when he went up against other people.

Unfortunately, no actual poker tables were on this ship. Video, sure, but he much preferred the feeling of the cards in his hands. Little rectangles on a screen wouldn’t cut it—too artificial for him.

Not that the boat was without table games. They had a few to choose from. From what he could tell, there were craps and roulette. A group of young men wearing Tommy Bahama shirts, board shorts, and flip-flops crammed around a table and cheered loudly. One of them flung his fists into the air.

Yeah, too much enjoyment going on over there. Definitely wasn’t his speed. Where were the morose, balding, divorced, deadbeat dads? The ones with the gambling addictions, beer guts, and broken promises? They were his people.

Not that he’d actually made it down the aisle, and he was childless. Well, okay. He was with them in spirit, if not in ilk.

A casino worker stood beside a spinning wheel at an empty roulette table, wearing a blank expression. Oh! No one to bother him? Perfect. That was just what he needed.

Beau sat and laid his room key on the table as he read the sign about minimum bets. Five-dollar minimum. Nodding, he made eye contact with the dealer. “I’ll take a hundred in chips.”

Grinning, the worker nodded and swiped his card before pushing a stack in his direction.

“Can I order drinks through you?” he asked as he started placing his bets on the number grid before him.

“No.” The dealer shook his head.

Frowning, he sighed. “I guess I can wait for someone to come by.”

Marissa

Dinner had been amazing. It wasn’t a Michelin Star restaurant or anything, but the experience was more about the company than the food.

Everyone ordered something different so they could sample a little of everything.

Most items had been delicious. Marissa was stuffed.

Good thing too, because they were headed to the casino to continue their binge drinking and debauchery.

Joyce and Carolyn had looped arms and depended on each other to keep from stumbling.

That didn’t change the fact that the two of them repeatedly apologized to the chairs and walls they bumped into along the walk.

Tina and Marissa, overseeing their drunkenness, attempted to keep their snickering to a minimum.

“I call slots!” Joyce shouted as she raised an arm in the air.

Carolyn wrinkled her nose. “No way. I hate those.”

“But they’re the easiest.” Joyce slumped slightly as she whined. “I don’t think I’m in any condition to use my brain right now.”

Tina arched a brow and shared a look with Marissa. Day one and they were already facing a mutiny.

“They’re also the quickest method to lose all your money,” Tina said.

“But they’re fun,” Joyce protested. “All the little side quests and graphics. I don’t have to understand what’s going on. The slots keep me occupied.”

“You know what’s easy?” Marissa interjected. “Roulette. Pick numbers and put your chips down. What you do doesn’t impact anyone else, and hopefully that little ball stays away from double zero.”

“Ohhh! That sounds fun!” Carolyn released Joyce and somehow fall-walked toward Marissa. Reaching out, Marissa caught the future bride before she face-planted. Giggling, Carolyn held on to Marissa for dear life. “I’ve never played it before, but I think I can get the hang of it.”

“It’s really simple,” Marissa assured her friend as she straightened Carolyn’s festive miniature veil.

“As long as they have more of those daiquiris, I’m in,” Joyce said.

“I assure you. They’re everywhere.” Tina chuckled.

Swinging her arm, Carolyn nearly knocked Marissa over. “Onward to the gambling den!”

With that settled, the quartet, laughing hysterically, made their way toward the casino.

For how long? No one knew. Hopefully, the food in their stomachs would soak up some of the alcohol Carolyn and Joyce had drunk.

It was far too early into the evening, and the vacation, to be holding anyone’s hair.

They weren’t in their twenties anymore.