Page 56 of You Complicate Me

I’m not looking for a relationship.

Yeah, but what would you do if you found one?

“Holy shit,” he muttered as realization hauled off and slapped him across the face. “I love her.”

Sadie grinned at him. “Ya think?”

He shoved both hands through his hair. “I can’t tell her that. I’ve only known her for a week! She’ll freak the fuck out!”

Sadie shrugged. “Maybe. But what if she doesn’t? And who says love has a timetable, anyway? It’s way too complicated for that.”

Ugh. Complicated. Would that word ever not make him nauseous?

Chapter Thirty

After her talk with Michael, Grace decided to take the quickest route from the pool to her room, which unfortunately took her straight through the heart of the casino. Her eyes immediately teared up as she was smacked in the face with a wall of stale cigarette smoke.

Waving a hand in front of her in an attempt to clear the air, she squinted and tried to get her bearings. Between the smoke, the dim overhead lighting, and the rows of machines that flashed and alarmed obnoxiously, Grace was having a hard time even determining where the exit into the hotel was.

“Haven’t seen you in here before, blondie. Hey, here’s a nickel. Sit down here with me and try your luck.”

Grace blinked at the woman who’d just pressed a nickel into her hand. From the scratchy, rough sound of her voice, Grace would’ve estimated the woman was Grandma Ruthie’s age. But voices could certainly be deceiving, she quickly realized.

This woman looked like the love child of Snooki from Jersey Shore and Sharon Stone in Casino.

Grace imagined she was in her late fifties, though her impeccable makeup and trim figure (most of which was on display in a skin-tight, fuchsia tank dress) gave her a much more youthful appearance.

Smiling around a lit cigarette that was hanging precariously from her blood-red painted lower lip, the woman motioned for Grace to sit next to her at a slot machine that had a picture of a cartoon gangster from the 1920s on it.

“That machine went cold on me hours ago,” the stranger said, “But maybe you’ll have better luck.”

“Oh, no thank you,” Grace said. “I don’t really gamble.”

The woman laughed so hard she almost lost her cigarette. “I’m calling bullshit, honey. First of all, it’s a nickel slot, not a high rollers’ table in Atlantic City. It hardly counts as gambling. And secondly, I’ve seen you with my Nicky. You’re a gambler, whether you recognize it or not.”

Grace had been so distracted by the woman’s raspy voice and teased platinum blonde, curls—which looked to be held in place with enough Aqua Net to supply Bon Jovi for a month in 1987—that she hadn’t noticed the hint of a New Jersey accent in her words.

Grace took a seat at the gangster-themed slot machine and smiled. “You must be Nick’s aunt, Lucille.” She offered her a hand. “I’m Grace. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Lucille grabbed Grace’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze before letting go to slip a nickel into her own slot machine. “You, too, sweetheart. Sorry I haven’t made it to any of the family dinners. I guess I’m not what you’d call a people person,” she said, making finger quotes around “people person”.

She didn’t sound particularly sorry, Grace noted. “I’m sure Nick and Sadie would’ve loved to have you there, but honestly, you didn’t miss too much.”

Just my family embarrassing themselves like usual.

Lucille snorted. “They wouldn’t want me there. I was a shit aunt when they were kids. Nicky in particular never forgave me for it. Not that he should.”

Well, this had certainly taken an awkward turn rather quickly. “Well, um, I’m sure you did the best you could.”

Her lip curled up on one side. “You’re adorable. It’s no wonder Nicky loves you so much.”

Warmth spread through Grace’s entire body at the thought of Nick loving her, but she quickly squelched it. Just because she was batshit crazy over him didn’t mean the insanity was mutual. Sure, he wanted to see how their relationship would progress, but love? Not likely after such a short amount of time. So, Grace kept her mouth shut. Lucille, though? Not so much.

“I was young when my sister went to prison,” she said, not even looking at Grace as she fed her slot machine and pulled the lever. “Immature, too. Not the kind of woman anyone should trust to raise a couple of kids, you know? But too bad for them I was all they had. Maybe I was better than foster care, but probably not by much.”

Grace’s stomach churned. Poor Nick and Sadie. Orphaned, taken in by a woman who admittedly wasn’t mother material. How awful it must’ve been for them.

“We didn’t have much of anything,” Lucille went on. “I worked all the damn time trying to keep the bills paid and clothes on those kids’ backs. And that’s all Nicky ever really needed from me.” She shook her head, smiling to herself. “He was such an arrogant little punk.” She huffed out a laugh. “Didn’t need nothin’ from nobody. Always the tough guy. But Sadie always wanted more. More love, more attention. She was real needy, you know? But, me not being a people person and all, I never gave her what she needed.”

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