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“He could have done great things and not subjected us to it,” Dahlia said.
“You’ve never said that before,” Ivy said. “Normally it’s Jasmine and I who say it.”
“We all felt it,” Dahlia said. “Saying it wouldn’t have changed a thing. People are piling in now. The show is going to start soon.”
Which was her sister’s way of dropping this conversation. She was having too much fun to bring up old news anyway.
At the end of the show, they made their way out. “Do you want to play some slots? It’s early yet.”
It was only eight. They were just twenty minutes away. She wasn’t ready to go home yet for someone that had to be dragged out.
Dahlia sighed. “Not more than an hour. Tops.”
“Woohoo,” Ivy said, hooking her arm with her sister’s. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and win something.”
“The way our luck is going, I’ll be happy to go home and have our place look the same as we left it.”
Her jaw dropped. “That wasn’t nice to say.”
“Then I guess you’ll pull the slots faster, won’t you?”
She wanted to change her mind and say they could leave now but decided to let her sister’s comment slide.
Forty minutes later though, Dahlia had been right. They had horrible luck and they should have just saved the thirty dollars they both lost.
“I need to pee before we leave,” Ivy said. Dahlia gave it one more pull on the slot and up came three cherries. “You won.”
“Ten dollars,” Dahlia said as the tokens fell out.
“It’s still a win.”
“I’ll keep playing while you pee,” Dahlia said. “I’m not standing in line to cash these out. It’s not worth it.”
“I won’t be long,” she said and got up to leave.
Ivy had her crossbody purse in front of her and made her way to the bathroom.
She did her business and opened the door to walk out at the same time a man walked out of the door across the hall but slightly ahead of her.
Oh yeah, it was her lucky day. “Brooks?”
His head turned. It was obvious he didn’t see her since she was behind the doorway and he walked out and just kept going.
“Hi, Ivy,” he said.
He had on jeans, a button-down shirt and sneakers on his feet. He didn’t look like he was on a date. At least she didn’t want to think that.
It’s not like she’d heard from him in two days and didn’t expect that she would.
“Are you here trying your luck at cards or undercover?” She leaned in closer as she whispered those words. He looked shocked by it.
“My luck isn’t so good and since I’m from Mystic and most know me, being undercover wouldn’t work so well.”
Damn, she got something out of him without even asking. He was from the area. Though she kind of figured that out herself anyway from overhearing the one officer talking to him.
“Violet—who works with us—she is engaged to Trace Mancini. He’s a crime mystery writer. He did some recon here. Or whatever it’s called. All for his book. I just figured it was the same as TV shows. You know, as you said, it’s often the same.”
“Do you all have flower names there?” he asked.
