Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“What? No. You’ve got this all wrong. I’m not interested in Julian and for the record, it wasn’t me who initiated the kiss. Or the wine. I was trying to leave when he—”
“Get out. Get out of my house now and don’t ever come back.”
My thoughts turn to Aurora and how this will impact us both. Looking after her has been the only decent thing in my life lately.
“Dani, please…”
But no amount of pleading is going to make Dani see her husband is to blame and that I’m an innocent bystander caught in the middle of this nightmare.
It’s raining hard by the time she throws me out and slams the door closed behind me. I stand on the stoop to gather my bearings and decide to call an Uber, but as I pull my phone out of my pocket, it begins to ring.
Its freezing, and I’m shivering as I answer. “Hello?”
“Hi Belle, its Lavinia from the casino. He’s here.”
My stomach sinks and I close my eyes at the news.
“You asked me to call you when he showed up.”
“Yes, thank you. I appreciate you calling me.” I feel sick. “I’ll come now.”
The Uber is seven minutes away, so I endure seven minutes on my ex-employer’s stoop, listening to Dani yell at Julian, while Julian continues to blame everything on me.
According to him, I’m a temptress and I wore him down with my blatant sexual aura. Not to mention my provocative clothing.
I look down at the Iron Maiden T-shirt, jeans, and well-worn converse high tops and shake my head.
Yeah, I’m a real seductress.
Inside, I hear Dani call me a whore.
It stings because for a while there I really thought I’d found a place I belonged.
She quickly follows whore with the word slut.
If I had a shred of pride left in me, I would wait for the Uber farther up the road in the rain. But after six months of barely affording to eat, pay rent, and keep my head above water, I’m not too proud to stay on my ex-employer’s stoop and at least keep dry.
When the Uber finally shows, it’s a ten-minute ride to the casino, which is just enough time for me to gather my thoughts and realize how fucked I am now that I’m unemployed.
Tears form behind my eyes but I clench my teeth and hold them back.
No point in crying. I’ve already survived so much. This is just another bump in the road. Right?
By the time I arrive at the casino, I’ve managed to keep the tears and self-pity at bay. Feeling sorry for myself has never worked. No point starting now.
As far as casinos go, St. Bon’s isn’t anything to write home about. It doesn’t have the razzle and dazzle of some of the bigger casinos, and the overpriced drinks are watered down and questionable at best. But it’s popular with the locals, and one of those locals is my uncle, Maurice.
Uncle Maurice likes to gamble. Unfortunately, he isn’t very good at it and has lost more than he would care to remember.
He struggles with his addiction. It’s the reason I came back to St. Boniface. He needs someone in his corner right now, and I’m the only family left willing to help.
When my parents died, he was there for me. Now, I’m here for him.
“Would you mind waiting?” I ask the Uber driver. “I’ll be two minutes.”
He gives me a pointed look. “It’s raining. Everyone wants an Uber tonight.”
“I just need to collect my uncle from inside and I’ll be right back.” I dig into my pocket for my last five dollar bill. It’s not much of a bribe. But enough to maybe keep him here for five minutes. “Here, take this. I’ll be quick.”
The Uber driver accepts the five dollars with a nod, and I climb out and disappear inside the casino.
I find Uncle Maurice at a slot machine. His face lights up when he sees me. “Belle, what are you doing here?”
He gives me a toothless smile.
“What are you doing here, Maurice? We’ve talked about this.”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but I can explain everything.”
At sixty years old, my uncle looks like a crazy professor. White hair. Wild beard. Big eyes. Frenetic energy. He wears a wrinkled Coca-Cola T-shirt over faded khakis and a scuffed pair of running shoes, one with its shoelaces undone.
He's eccentric. Absentminded. Always distracted. Always bouncing from one wild idea to another.
“I was on one of my afternoon walks and I found a twenty dollar bill. Twenty dollars, and I thought I could double it. And I did Belle, I did. I won almost a hundred dollars.”
He looks proud with himself. I look at the coin container in his hand.
It’s almost empty.
“Where is it?” I ask.
“I was going to win it back.”
I let out the deep breath I was holding. I do that when I’m stressed.