Lady Luck - Ashby Crime Family

Besides, when I was ready to move on, it wouldn’t be with a man like the men in this room. Not that there was anything wrong with them. Aside from Evan of course, they were all good looking and fit with good personalities. But I wasn’t in the market for another man who had a dangerous job. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I should be thinking about the idea of moving on or even being attracted to another man. It was still too soon.

Too soon to think about touching someone other than Lance. Too soon to even imagine being naked in front of someone else when no one else had ever seen me like that. It felt too soon period, except when loneliness kicked in. That’s when it felt like he’d already been gone an eternity. Some nights I found myself looking at the front door, expecting him to walk right through it with a big smile on his face and a hot, welcoming kiss for me.

It never happened, of course, and the confusing spiral of want and doubt continued.

“Daydreaming on the job already?” Jasper’s voice startled a gasp out of me, but his teasing tone was even more surprising.

“Hardly, just texting Kat about a dress for Anastasia.” His eyes were solely focused on me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he could sense the lie, the half lie. The little bitty white lie. “What’s up, boss?”

Jasper grinned. “Just swung by to check on things. How’s it going?”

“Fine. I’m getting used to things, like handling all that cash.”

He smiled. “It takes time, but Mace said you handle it like a pro.” Could Jasper really be a sweetheart under that gruff exterior?

I barked out a laugh both at his words and my fanciful thoughts. “Yeah, after a mild freak out I calmed down and did my job.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear. I knew you’d be a good fit here, Va—uhm—Nessa.”

“Thanks, that’s good to hear. Especially from the boss.”

His smile wavered, and I wondered if I said something wrong. “Don’t worry about Evan, he’s kind of—”

“Sorry, can you hold that thought? Four empty glasses and a marker at table two.” I flashed a brittle smile and hurried away, happy to have a legitimate reason to get out of that particular conversation. I didn’t want to talk about Evan or think about him. Period.

“I’ve been summoned?” I asked with a flirty uptilt in my voice when I reached the table.

Vlad, a walking talking stereotype of a platinum blond Russian playboy folded his cards and smiled up at me.

“I love making a beautiful woman come,” he said in a thick accent. “More vodka. More lime. More money. Rebeckah thinks she knows more about soccer than me, can you believe it?” He rolled his eyes at the very thought, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“She does own a team, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, but she won it in her divorce,” he snorted. “Which,” he raised his empty glass to Rebeckah and frowned, “I commend you for. Still.”

“More vodka,” I said and took his empty glass along with the other, grabbing the marker so I could exchange it with Mace. “Be right back.”

That was pretty much how night two went down, running back and forth to the bar, mostly ignoring Evan, changing markers and monitoring side bets, all the while smiling and laughing with the uber rich gamblers who left, as Kat had promised, ridiculous tips. The first night, I’d gone home with a thousand bucks and tonight that had tripled.

Thanks to Nessa.

And thanks to Kat, my feet felt like I’d been wearing sneakers all night, and I made a note to take my tips and buy another pair of these incredible shoes.

“Good night?” Provo appeared at the table while I cleared the cards and empty glasses, his gaze sober and serious. As usual.

“No complaints.” He didn’t seem particularly excited that I had taken this job, not that I’d expected Provo to be excited, but at least happy for me or at the very least, supportive. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” So he said, but there he stood on the other side of the table, staring at me.

“Good talk,” I told him and shoved all the cards back into the shuffler before carting as many glasses as I could carry over to the bar.

“How long are you filling in?”

I set the glasses down and turned to him, watching his questioning blue eyes carefully. “I’m not filling in Provo, I’m working. What do you care?”

He sighed and looked around before his gaze met mine again. “Lance wouldn’t want you doing this.”

“Yeah well, Lance isn’t here, and no offense, Provo, but you have no idea what he would or wouldn’t want me to do. Anything else?”

I was so tired of people telling me what my dead husband would have wanted for me because they didn’t know Lance. My happiness was what mattered to him and vice versa.