Page 72 of Don't Bet On It
“And I can’t get you a job,” I reiterated.
“You can at least put in a good word for me.”
“But you’re not looking for a job.” I’d been in her presence for less than five minutes, and I was already at the end of my rope. “I need to get going.” All I could think of was escape.
“Where are you going?” Sharon’s eyes flitted toward the door that led to the casino. “Do you want to get a drink?”
I was desperate to get away from her, so I did something stupid. “I already have a drink lined up with somebody else.” I didn’t feel guilt when uttering the lie.
“Oh, really?” Her voice was a low purr. “Is it a man?” It was always a man in her world, so she assumed it was the same in mine.
“Yup, it’s a man.” I looked around, desperate for somebody to use for my escape, and spotted Ronan walking out of the employee exit. “And there he is.”
I started toward him, desperation oozing out of me. “Hey, honey bear.” I sounded like an idiot, but I didn’t care. “Are you ready for that drink?”
Ronan had changed into jeans and a button-down shirt. The surprise in his eyes was evident.
Please don’t make me explain in front of Sharon. Please don’t make me explain.
His gaze moved to my mother, and his recognition sparked. He didn’t hesitate when he took my hand. He was saving me.
“I’m ready.” He gripped me tightly as he took in Sharon’s disapproving stare. Ronan, in his jeans, wouldn’t look like a big enough fish for her. If she knew who his father was, she would be all for it. There was no way I was sharing that information with her, though.
“Great.” I gave his arm a tug. “It was nice to see you again, Sharon.” That was a bald-faced lie. “Maybe we can do it in another year.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me.” She was already heading toward the casino door. “Now that I know you work here, I plan on being a frequent visitor.”
That was the last thing I wanted to hear. “Sharon?—”
The heavy door falling shut cut me off.
“Crap,” I muttered.
Ronan shot me a sympathetic look. “So … a drink?”
I was resigned to my fate. “Yup, and keep them coming.”
20
TWENTY
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Tallulah had been quiet since we left the parking garage. When I’d seen her there, falling apart at the seams as her mother tried to take over, I’d felt the need to step in and play white knight. It was probably not the smartest move, but I couldn’t stop myself.
She shrugged as we turned into the Triple Down, which boasted a low-key dive atmosphere that I figured she would approve of.
“Good choice,” she said dully as I led her toward a booth.
“I figured you would approve.”
She laughed, but there was no mirth to be found. “If you say so.”
I got us settled at a booth and ordered drinks. She didn’t seem interested in giving her own order, so I went with beer for both of us to make things easy. She downed the first beer in four long swigs and demanded another.
I watched her, my heart constricting, then sighed when she asked the server for another. “You might want to pace yourself,” I said drolly.
She gave me a dirty look. “You’re not my father.”
