Page 8 of Retrograde

Esme was having the time of her life and egging them on every step of the way.

She’d only toned it down briefly when she’d been about to text her driver friend at Eden for a five-thousand-dollar loan and Marco had caught her, insisting she could use his money like it was her own.

Of course, drunk Esme had taken full advantage but Marco was loving showing off his gambling skills so he wasn’t likely to care in the morning when the hangover hit and he realised how much he’d lost. He liked to think he was good at gambling, but he was a bit hopeless.

‘Did I actually win?’ Marco’s jaw dropped.

‘Ten grand, my son!’ Brett slapped him on the back and Julien jumped up and down like a little kid. They shouldn’t be let loose in a place like this.

‘Poker next. Come on, Sunny. Be my good luck charm?’ Brett gave her puppy eyes, but she always thought he looked more like Wall-E, that Disney robot.

‘What exactly does that entail?’ She raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on her hip and almost stumbling in those stupid stilettos.

‘A kiss?’ He snaked an arm around her waist.

‘In your dreams.’

‘It’s my birthday.’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘I get a kiss tomorrow?’

‘No, I meant it’s not your birthday until tomorrow,’ she stood her ground.

‘Shit best friend, you are.’ He pouted but squeezed her hip gently to signify he was just messing around. Except this messing around was becoming a common occurrence.

‘I’ll give you a kiss, Anderson.’ Julien grabbed both sides of Brett’s face and planted one on his lips, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

He was without a doubt way over the line of just being tipsy, and was veering into drunk and disorderly territory, but he was highly entertaining.

Lucie loved seeing Julien letting loose after he’d spent so long in parent mode twenty-four-seven.

They headed over to the poker table where Brett stole a pink feather boa from an old lady and looped it around Lucie’s neck. ‘I’m so sorry!’

The lady just gave her a sloppy smile. ‘You go for it, sunshine.’

‘Nice to know other people see what I see, my sunshine girl.’ Brett snuck a cheeky peck on her cheek, proud of the nickname he’d selected for her so long ago, and got to work.

Lucie watched in awe as he worked his magic, and before she knew it they’d been there for an hour. Brett lost and won repeatedly against an elderly man who clearly also had more money than sense, and now he was about to bet his Sydney apartment.

‘Anderson, no. Too far.’

‘Nah, it’s chill. I know what I’m doing, Sunny.’ He smirked as he did another shot of tequila.

Lucie looked to Julien for help, knowing he was the only one who stood a chance at asserting some authority here. If Lucie tried again, Brett truly would shut her up with a kiss. Which she wasn’t entirely sure she minded, but she couldn’t let either of these things happen.

‘Come on, Anderson. Esme is throwing up, she needs us,’ Julien called out, furiously typing on his phone.

‘Oh, shit! Apologies, sir. Good game.’ His last remaining opponent simply laughed it off. He looked to be a seasoned regular, so he was probably used to people getting carried away and their friends saving them from making mistakes.

‘She is actually okay, isn’t she?’ Lucie whispered to Julien.

‘Yeah, I told her to fake it.’

By the time they reached Marco and the girls, Esme had slightly smudged eye makeup and was pulling a face that suggested she felt unwell.

‘Oh, Ez! Are you good?’ Brett patted her on the back gently.

‘Better now,’ she mumbled, but as soon as Brett looked away she winked at Lucie.

‘Right, where to next? The bar?’ He was already walking away.

Lucie tugged on Julien’s arm to slow him down. She didn’t want the rest of the group to hear and make a big deal out of it.

‘Jules, I think he’s had too much to drink. The amount he had while he and I were stood at the poker table was enough to last one person all night.’

‘Should we convince everyone to call it a night?’ Julien glanced up at his teammate, who was giving Marco a piggyback and running down the street.

‘I think it’s for the best. We’ve got to do it all over again tomorrow, and I don’t want him to embarrass himself or do something he’ll regret on night one. Besides, I think Marco could do with getting himself to bed, too.’

‘Hey! Guys!’ Julien shouted ahead. ‘Gather round.’

‘Brett! Get back here!’ Bea put on an angry tone and beckoned him over.

‘I think we should call it a night,’ Julien said. ‘It’s already nearly three in the morning, and we wanted to go for pancakes for breakfast, remember?’

‘We’re in Vegas, Moretz. We can go for afternoon breakfast pancakes.’

‘Yeah, but Brett, you might not be tired but everyone else is.’

‘Yeah, we are.’ Faith faked a yawn.

‘Guys, come on! It’s my birthday.’ He used that as an excuse to get his way for about the eighth time tonight, except this time it was technically true.

‘Why don’t you and I go get some fried chicken, then go back to the hotel,’ Lucie suggested.

‘Fine. Let’s go, Sunny, let these boring fuckers go to bed.’ He tugged her along hand in hand, leaving Lucie to give them a grateful wave. ‘Night, losers!’

She knew he would make her sit and eat half the menu, including fries dipped in milkshake, and they would be out for another two hours, but at least the drinking would stop. She would eat all the fried chicken in the world in one sitting if it kept Brett safe from his own stupidity.