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"Probably better to see it yourself." Ian led her down the stairs and back into the parking lot then gestured toward the truck.
He was right, the image of the thing did all the talking necessary. Or, rather, the smoke pouring from the hood did.
"What the hell happened?" She rushed toward it then gripped the top and pushed the hood up farther with her hands.
"Careful," Ian said. "I'm not sure. I called a mechanic, but he said he wouldn't be able to take a look until tomorrow evening. It looks like we're stuck here for the night."
"For the night? Oh no, no, no." She shook her head, staring down into the abyss of unintelligible car parts and willing them to fix themselves. How many times had she sworn to herself she'd never come back here? And to be stuck for an entire night…
"No." She crossed her hands over her chest. "I knew we should have taken my car."
She wanted to stamp her foot, to throw herself on the ground and scream. "There has to be another mechanic."
"I tried all the ones that came up in my online search. They're all closed now."
"And you don't have Triple A for this hunk of junk?" Her words came out in a screech. She stared up at the dingy apartment, feeling like the depressed aura of the place might consume her.
"Look, there's nothing we can do, so I'm thinking we should make the best of this."
"Make the best of it? Are you joking?" she spluttered.
"Well, I don't know about you, but there are buffets everywhere around these parts, and I certainly wouldn't mind a free drink or two. What do you say?"
"You mean go into the casino?" A rush of horror swept over her at the thought. Of course, the last time she'd been here, she wasn't old enough to walk the casino floor, but that didn't mean she didn't know what it was like inside the place. The smell of cigarettes, the dinging and whirring of the machines—it was like a death march, the sounds of a past she was all too willing to forget.
"Yeah." Ian shrugged. "You must be hungry."
"I…" She blinked. "No, I'm not going in there."
But, as if in answer to her words, her stomach grumbled so loudly that she was sure he'd heard it.
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Hoping to divert his attention, she said, "How in the hell can you be so calm and cool about this? Your car is a junk pile right now and we're stuck in Atlantic City."
Ian shrugged again. "Like I said, there's nothing we can do. At least not about that. If you want to eat, however, there are plenty of options." He lifted his eyebrows. "You're going to have to eat regardless, so you might just have to give in."
She pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger then closed her eyes. "You know what? Fine. But we're going in there to eat and right back out. I'm not getting caught up in there."
Ian raised his hands in mock innocence. "Whatever you say. Now come on, the bus is already on the way."
As she watched him jog across the street, she knew one thing for sure—this had all been a complete and total mistake.
The bus to the casino was swarming with little old ladies in sequined hats and even tinier old men with walkers and canes.
"Oh no," Zoe murmured under her breath. "I didn't check the time."
"What's wrong with that?" Ian asked.
"Looks like it's time for the feeding frenzy." She nudged her head toward the ocean of red hats in the back of the bus. “It's probably between five and five thirty which means all the old people are taking a break from gambling in order to swarm the buffets."
Ian laughed. "That's not a thing."
"You want to bet? There is a clear distinction between when people of different ages go to the buffet, and right now is prime grandma time. You've got to hit the sweet spots. Ten fifteen, for example—you get the whole breakfast buffet, which is cheap, but then they switch over to lunch while you're there. Double meal for half the price."
"That is the cheapest thing I've ever heard," he said.
She shrugged. "I think you mean the most ingenious. But it doesn't matter. We're trapped tonight."
