Page 110 of Lady Luck

We both glanced out the window and watched the sun-shower outside, the thick raindrops at odds with the streams of sunshine.

With one more hug and a much-too-short kiss goodbye, she was out the door.

A few minutes later, Liem swung through the saloon doors, glancing around. “Where’s Princess?”

“Fortuna,” I replied, feeling suddenly bereft.

“Damn. I didn’t realize she had to work today.”

I snapped my head toward him. “You don’t know?”

He reared back. “Know what?”

“She’s headed to Fortuna to quit. All of her jobs. Lady Luck too.”

His eyes widened as he processed the information, then he whipped out his phone and brought it close to his face, his fingers flying across the screen.

“Who are you texting?”

His gaze flicked up to mine briefly before resuming his task. “Dezi.”

“I’m sure she told him already.”

He peeked up over the top of his screen. “I don’t think she has.”

I took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as I turned it over in my mind. “Actually, you might be right. She really only decided last night. I just assume that they share the same brain and instantly know stuff about each other without even having to speak.”

Liem sighed dramatically. “What a beautiful thing.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, but his attention was locked back on his phone. “Okay, yeah, he does know. As of five minutes ago, anyway, when she called him from the parking garage for a pep talk. Wow. Why is my heart racing? Oh my God, I'm sweating. Why am I so nervous?” He glanced up at me in a panic, and I couldn’t even muster a smile because I was panicking too.

Just more discreetly.

I thought about Bree. Brave, beautiful, funny, resilient Bree.

“Because we love her,” I answered.

“Oh.” He considered me, a smile blooming on his face. “That explains it.”

He looked back at his phone. “Also, Dezi has officially invited us onto his ship for a Thanksgiving week cruise. He said he can get us discounted rooms. We just have to be okay with the ship having 50 percent more kids than usual. He said he didn’t ask Princess when they were on the phone because he was busy ‘buttering Cher’s buns.’ What does that mean?”

“I really couldn’t say.”

43

BREE

Imade it all the way to the high rollers section before veering into Fortuna’s Finest Powder Room and violently throwing up into one of its gilded toilets.

I sat on the ground of the oversized stall, sending silent thanks to the crew who kept the bathrooms spotless. I unfurled some toilet paper and dabbed at the cold sweat that had broken across my brow before wiping my mouth and glancing up to see whose stall I’d desecrated.

Coriolanus Taking Leave of his Family was displayed proudly above me. In this depiction of the painting, instead of the general leaving behind his family, he leaves piles of gold.

Presumably to seek out the larger piles of gold that beckoned through the window.

Art.

I ducked down to peek under the stall door and confirm that I was alone before heaving myself off the floor, exiting the stall, and going straight to the sink to wash my hands. I dried them with a hand towel and then patted my face again before turning the water back on and rinsing out my mouth.

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