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He cashed out then took a huge pull on the Champagne bottle before holding it out to her.
"What?" she asked.
Ian rolled his eyes. "Drink."
"Oh, I…"
"Am I going to have to force you into everything tonight? You just won three grand. Have some champagne."
She glanced at the bottle wearily then took a huge gulp, reveling in the dry, bubbly liquid.
"Ready?" he asked then made another motion like he was going to take her hand before pulling away again. This time, though, she was sure he could tell the motion hadn't been lost on her. She remembered the feel of his warm skin beneath her as she'd hugged him close, watching the number climb on the screen.
"Yeah, okay," she said then got up and walked with him toward the nearest little casino shop.
It was a typical sort of place, filled with cigarettes and bottled soda and the kitschy sweatshirts only tourists bought. In the corner was a rack of expensive wine and, beside it, another rack of things exclusively for winners—designer purses, jewelry, money clips—all things to make sure the casino got their money back one way or another.
The sort of place her father used to come to buy her gifts on the rare occasion that he won.
She took another swig from the bottle of champagne.
"How about this?" Ian pointed to something bright and glittery in the display case, and Zoe frowned. It was a gaudy diamond necklace with a pear-shaped stone in the center. It was the sort of thing that would only be fit for wearing to the Oscars or to a rich husband's will-reading. Definitely not the sort of thing she'd wear every day.
"I think not," she said, and he elbowed her again. Another little surge of electricity coursed through her at the touch, but she knew it was only from the win, from the excitement of the night.
"Okay, okay," she said. "I'll try it on."
They got a shop girl to come over and let her try on the necklace, and when she did, she glanced into the mirror and straightened it out. She had to admit, when it was on, it didn't look quite so garish as it did in the case. In fact, it was almost… elegant. Refined.
"We'll take it," Ian pronounced, and Zoe rushed to wave him off.
"No, no, no, I—"
"You said you wanted me to have some of the money. Well, this is what I want to buy. You have no choice."
She glanced in the mirror again and touched the necklace lightly. "All right, if you insist. But I'm not happy about it."
"You're not happy about anything," he teased, and secretly, Zoe found herself smiling back at him as he checked out at the counter.
Sunday shore traffic the next morning was murder, but no less murderous than Zoe's constant struggle to change the radio station or nail down their plans.
All through their wait at the mechanic's that morning, she'd yammered on about how Quinn wouldn't have enough money to stay at a hotel, so they'd have to head back to Connecticut and start again, but Ian wasn't so sure. Quinn already had a day on them, and the fact that she hadn't messaged him was beginning to make him uneasy. He knew, of course, where Quinn had probably gone, but the idea of telling Zoe the truth…
Well, that was the rub, wasn't it?
Still, after watching her toss and turn all night, wondering where her little sister was, he knew he'd be nothing short of a monster if he didn't come clean this time. If Quinn was smart, she would have left some sign that she'd been there and moved along, something to comfort her sister while still giving her all the closure she needed.
"I don't think she went back home," he said after another long, anxiety-fueled rant from Zoe. "I think she probably went to my house on Fenwick Island. She had keys to the place, and she knows she can stay there."
"Fenwick Island? Are you kidding?" Zoe sp
luttered.
"Nope, I go there to fish, and Quinn always has an open invitation. If she wanted to get away but didn't have much money…"
Zoe pinched her nose between thumb and forefinger then took a deep breath. "That's another three hours away."
He shrugged. "I can't think of anything else we could do."
