Page 11 of Creed
I didn’t think so.
Laura:
Don’t worry. I guarantee you a great night. See you in a few hours!
I didn’t bother pushingher for more of an answer. I knew she wasn’t going to give it, so I let it go and dove into my regular Saturday morning routine. I drank a cup of coffee, ran a couple of miles, and once I was back home, I made a bite of breakfast and spent a few hours working in the yard.
The next thing I knew, I was standing in front of my bathroom mirror with scissors in my hand. I studied myself for a moment, and before I lost the courage, I gathered a few strands of hair and cut them. It wasn’t much, just enough to give me some fringy bangs that framed my face, and they actually looked pretty good.
I felt like I was on a roll, so I painted my nails and took a shower. I went to my closet and tried on dress after dress. Skirt after skirt. I was about to give up when I landed on a cute little black number I hadn’t worn in years. I slipped it on and checked myself out in the mirror. I did a little spin and decided it was the best option.
I was feeling damn good about it, too. Right up until Laura showed up at my door in a tiny royal blue jumper that barely covered the essentials and enough shimmering jewelry to make my eyes flutter. She was beautiful. It didn’t take much effort for her to turn heads, but tonight, she kicked it up a notch. Men wouldn’t stand a chance with her around.
The second she got a good look at me, her smile faded, and she gasped, “Is this what you’re wearing?”
“Well, yeah. Is there…”
“No. No, no, no,” she said, cutting me off. “That is not nearly slutty enough.”
“Seriously?”
“Not even close.” She marched right past me and into my bedroom. She went straight to my closet as she told me, “We’re on the prowl, Devin. This is not the night for respectable and modest. This is the night forrevenge cleavage.”
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
Seconds later, I was standing in front of my bedroom mirror wearing an oh-so tiny mini-skirt that I didn’t even know I owned with a fitted black top whose plunging neckline did, in fact, show lots of revenge cleavage. It wasn’t an outfit I would’ve ever chosen for myself, but it wasn’t bad.
In fact, I looked pretty good for a divorced mother of two. I still had no idea where we were going, but I was excited about getting there. Hopeful even. And that was something I hadn’t been in quite some time.
3
CREED
Another night.
Another shift.
Same monotonous noise and lights.
Same weight settled heavy on my shoulders.
The Black Crown was packed in tight with all kinds of folks. Most walked in with an excited air, like they’d just stepped into a world of possibility and tonight was their night, but they’d leave either broke or buzzed or both. Some didn’t want to face the consequences of their actions and would pull something stupid, and they’d leave bruised or cuffed.
It was my job to make sure it didn’t get worse than that.
I was standing by the edge of the upper floor, scanning the casino floor for any possible issues, which wasn’t exactly easy when it was so damn packed. I was watching a group in the lower corner when Skid strolled up next to me like he didn’t have a care in the world. The kid looked just like his ol’ man, even had the same cocky grin, but he didn’t have the same wear behind the eyes—at least, not yet. That would come with time.
He gave me a nudge as he teased, “You ever take a night off?”
“Night off? What the hell is that?”
“You’re making us look bad.”
“Not that hard to do.”
“Ah.” Skid cocked his brow. “Looks like the extra hours are gettin’ to ya.”
“Maybe. Doesn’t help that it’s so damn packed tonight.”
