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She who dares, wins!
February 4th 2013
One evening I received an invite to a party where most of the crowd were wealthy lawyers or bankers.
The latter were much in evidence and one in particular showed tendencies for gambling which perhaps showed why the country is in the financial doldrums.
However in terms of manners he was an old school type of gent, dropping quaint phrases like “my word is my bond” into his conversation.
Dressed in a hugging black dress to show my lithe body at it’s best and wearing an elegant pair of heels, I soon attracted his attention.
He was giving it his best shot at trying to impress me, dropping names here, flashing expensive watches and cufflinks there but I proved immune to his charms.
Later he moved on to a game of roulette in a side room, joining a small group of men of a similar age and ilk, all trying to outdo each other and show how alpha they all were.
I joined them and soon began taking their money. One by one they dropped away, each one sent packing with his tail between his legs.
Only “my word is my bond” remained but his chips too succumbed to my superior skill.
“You must let me try and win back my money” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“I don’t think so,” I replied. “I have enough money here to upgrade my Porsche and still have dinner at The Ivy for a fortnight. Thanks for the game.” I started to rise from the table.
“Ok how about one winner takes all bet? I"ll throw in my Bentley outside,” he said, tossing his keys on the table. “Come on be a sport.”
I mulled it over briefly, sat down and made my response:
“Ok I bet you all your money and the car that you can’t remember all the colours of my shoes. And don’t think of peeking under the table.
“This is a test of your observation skills as well as your betting courage. You see, if you lose I want you to get on your knees and lick my shoes too. That’s a non-negotiable part of the bet otherwise I walk out now.”
“I"ll take it,” he said without hesitation, a knowing grin spreading across his face. “They’re black obviously.”
“Are you sure, is that your final answer?” I replied. “Remember I said all colours.”
“I’m sure. I checked you out as soon as you arrived from head to toe. And black is always my lucky colour on the roulette table. Final answer.”
I smiled at him.
“Well now it’s the moment of truth,” I said rising from the table to stand over him.
His eyes darted to my heels and a triumphant smile appeared on his smug face, while his hands started reaching for my chips.
“Not so fast,” I told him. “Remember I said all the colours.”
I lifted the my heel to reveal a bright red sole. He looked horrified.
“But that’s not fair,” he protested.
“I hope you’re not trying to wriggle out of the bet,” said the party’s hostess who had overheard the whole conversation.
“Miss Davenshaw’s shoes need cleaning. Get to it.”
He looked forlornly down at my heels.
“Yes it all came down to red or black and red was my lucky colour,” I said. “You’re not going to disappoint me are you? After all your word is your bond.”
The hostess and I started laughing. Slowly the loser got off his chair and dropped to his knees.