Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
After a few minutes, there was no reply. It wasn’t his number anymore. Well, it still felt good to type those words out.
I chose a Lucky Sevens machine and situated myself next to an old woman whose hair was pretty much blue because it had so much rinse in it.
She smiled over at me. Her lipstick was the brightest florescent pink, and she had a smear of it on her front teeth.
I pulled the lever repeatedly not even paying attention to whether or not I was winning anything.
Her voice startled me. “You look like you have something on your mind.”
“I do?”
“Who is he, and what did he do?”
I’d never see this woman again after today. Maybe I should just let it all out.
“You want the long version or the short version?”
“I’m ninety, and the dinner buffet opens in five minutes. Give me the short version.”
“Okay. I’m here with my stepbrother. Seven years ago, we slept together right before he moved away.”
“Taboo…I like it. Go on.”
I laughed. “Okay…well, he was the first and last guy I ever really cared about. I never thought I’d see him again. His father died this week, and he came back for the funeral. He wasn’t alone. He brought a girl he supposedly loves. I know she loves him. She’s a good person. She had to go back to California early. Somehow, I ended up at this casino with him. He leaves tomorrow.”
A single teardrop fell down my face.
“It looks to me like you still care about him.”
“I do.”
“Well, then you have twenty-four hours.”
“No, I don’t plan to screw things up for him.”
“Is he married?”
“No.”
“Then, you have twenty-four hours.” She looked at her watch and leaned on her walker to stand herself up. She gave me her hand. “I’m Evelyn.”
“Hi, Evelyn. I’m Greta.”
“Greta…fate gave you an opportunity. Don’t fuck it up,” she said before she scooted away on the walker.
Over the next several minutes, I kept thinking about what she said while mindlessly pulling the lever on the penny slot machine. Even if Elec weren’t with Chelsea, the fact remained that he never felt we could be together because of Pilar. I didn’t know if things had changed in that regard now.
My phone buzzed. It was Elec.
I know I’m not supposed to care. But when it comes to you, what I’m supposed to be feeling has never seemed to matter.
In that moment, I’d made a decision. I wasn’t going to be the one to initiate anything between Elec and me, but I would keep an open mind. I wouldn’t rule anything out. I would have hope. Because before I knew it, I’d be 90 and waiting for the dinner buffet. When that time came, I didn’t want to have any regrets.
CHAPTER 15
The lights started flashing on my machine, and it was dinging like crazy. A bunch of number sevens were lined up in a nice neat row. The number of credits displayed kept going and going.
I looked around to find all eyes in the nearby vicinity were on me.
People started clapping.
My heart was racing.
Holy crap. I won.
I won!
What did I win?
I still didn’t know. I couldn’t figure the machine out. It gave the number of credits but no dollar amount. When everything finally stopped, I ejected my ticket and took it to the cashier’s booth. “I think I won, but I couldn’t figure out how much?”
“Do you want to cash out?”
“Uh…yeah.”
The person seemed less than enthused to assist me.
“How much did I win?”
“One-thousand.”
“One-thousand pennies?”
“No, one-thousand dollars.”
I covered my mouth and spoke into my palm. “Oh my God!”
“Do you want it in fifties or hundreds?”
“Um…hundreds.”
She handed me a wad of cash, and I smelled it before running off to find Elec.
As I made my way through the bright lights and chaos with the money burning a hole in my purse, I finally located him at one of the poker tables. He was deep in thought, scratching his chin and didn’t know I was watching him. His shirt was loosened even further, and his sleeves were rolled up. His hair looked like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration. His tongue slid back and forth across the lip ring as he concentrated. There was something so painfully sexy about the contrast between his new bespectacled look and the tattoos all over his arms.
Finally, he smacked his cards down and mouthed, “Fuck.” He checked his phone and got up from the table. He walked toward me and finally noticed me smiling at him from the corner.
“I lost my shirt—200 dollars. I was up for a while then that last game fucked me over. How did you make out?”
I stuck my hand in my bag and lifted out the cash. “Oh—you know—the lame penny machine.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“A thousand dollars!” I said, waving it in his face and jumping up and down.