Poker Face 

They were all hugs and kisses as they said their farewells, to him it was like leaving his Mom, to Conchita it was like losing a son. It was now time to board the train and head south to check on one of his investments and prepare for the next and longest part of his journey. The train journey was a pleasure, but an extended delay at the port was not and did nothing to improve his humour. His frustration was broken when he heard the toll of the ships bell as she appeared around a bend in the river.

"My God he said, she's finally here."

The riverboat was four hours late, a lack of management he considered or just the result of one of those unpredictable river things. But he didn't care, just wanted to get on board, so as soon she docked, he didn't wait for an invite strutting boldly up to the gangplank, where he made an impressive sight. There were many on the River Boat who didn't have a clue who he was, and he wasn't expecting a royal welcome. In a short time, there was a flurry of attention from the embarking crew as he bore no ticket and insisted that he is taken immediately to an unregistered and strictly private suite, reserved for the owner. His arrogance wasn't well-received by the clerk who developed a well-practised and sarcastic smirk, that remained fixed in place like that of a circus clown on his cocky face until Denver uttered the phrase.

"Poker Face."

The scornful smirk quickly changed to a look of surprise and then to one that feared the probable repercussion of a serious misjudgment. The arrogance quickly became subservience, and the boarding crew gathered around him like a swarm of sycophantic servants, but he remained unimpressed. He ushered them away and spotting a bemused young Cabin Boy, he passed him his bags, the lad was busy trying to take in the cowardly behaviour of some previously terrifying people, whom he'd come to fear, during his time on the ship. Patting the lad stoutly on the shoulder, he pointed to the upper deck and said.

"Come on then son, let's be on our way."

The lad's face was a picture, filled with joy and carrying a huge grin that spread from ear to ear, never before had he been allowed to go up the stairs. This was the domain of the ship's elite, the Captain, the Madame, and their entourage, no one else was permitted to grace the Top Deck. He'd been given to understand that his life was at risk if he dared venture there, they described in detail how they'd skin him alive and feed him to the fish if caught trespassing on the top deck. When reaching the room, they found it still under lock and key, he turned around and gave the ensuing crew a cold hard stare. When suddenly there was a distraction, the air was filled with the pungent smell of excessive perfume and in its wake the crowd parted like the red sea, allowing the Madame, dressed in all her finery to waltz along the deck.

Like a sharpshooter's gun, she was all primed and ready to redress the intruder, but when they came face to face, her waltz quickly transformed into something resembling a sensual wiggle, and her voice softened to a giggle as she welcomed Denver aboard. The lad had never seen or heard her behave like this before, she was the boss and everyone knew it, even the captain. Looking him straight in the eye, she held out her hand expecting a stately kiss, but to her surprise, it was brushed it gently, but firmly aside and speaking in a commanding tone, he stated matter of fact.

"I'm more interested in the whereabouts of the key to this door".

With a flutter of her thick blackened eyes lashes, she reached reluctantly into her purse and pulled out a golden key. At the sight of the sparkling icon, he felt something akin to pleasure and for the first time since boarding the Liberty Belle, and something that resembled a smile appeared on his poker face. The smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, as, in a deep Texan accent, that demanded attention, he spoke again.

"Madame, let's not forget that our business always comes first."