Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“Fine,” I grumbled, making my way to the car.
“Where are we heading?” he asked.
“The airport.”
“The airport?” he asked, brows raised.
“Yes.”
He recovered from the surprise quickly. “JFK?” he asked after closing my door and slipping into the driver’s seat.
“Newark. With a quick stop at whatever box store we pass.”
I had to pick up some clothes for the trip. Normally, I would have gone back to my hometown to trade out clothes, get my duffle bag. But I didn’t really want to run into my family if the news of my ‘marriage’ had started to spread.
I’d been holed up at a hotel in the city, living out of my purse and ordering takeout and delivery of basic essentials.
I’d originally gotten a room because I was just too tired from overthinking about the whole hooking-up thing and didn’t want to go back to my cousin’s house and have to talk about it yet.
Then I’d just stayed while trying to figure out what my next move might be.
I talked to my lawyer.
I did research online.
I got bummed when everything said the same thing: if I didn’t get him to sign, I would just have to wait for court.
Then, because I wanted a distraction from my mood, I put feelers out about any big games going on.
There weren’t any tournaments going on right then, but after some calling and texting around, I found a solid underground game that sounded worth a trip. If for no other reason than just as a distraction from my mind that was going places I really didn’t want it to go.
“Do you need me to arrange a driver for where you are going?”
“I’ll probably just get a ride-share from LAX,” I said.
Los Angeles was a somewhat walkable area once I got from the airport to my hotel. Though I didn’t have details for the location of the game yet, just a contact who would send them to me closer to the time.
That probably would set a lot of people’s hair on edge, but I was used to these weird backroom, secret society, hush-hush type events.
I’d only ever been to two or three that involved actual criminals.
Normally, it was just the wealthy and famous people who insisted on this strict kind of protocol. And since it was LA, I imagined it was a few actors, directors, or influencers that would be there.
I preferred to play against actual pros, but maybe people who took it less seriously would be better for my needs right then. More casual conversation, more invitations for other fun things to do to keep my mind busy for a few days.
Then I could move forward with the possible court date and facing my family and all that unpleasantness.
The ride to the store then to the airport was mostly silent, but the noise on the flight was so overwhelming that it made it impossible to think straight for the next six and a half hours.
As I walked through the airport, the thought on my mind was that it kind of sucked not to have a first-class upgrade.
But determined not to think of anything associated with Harrison, I tamped down that line of thinking, got my ride-share, got lunch, checked into my hotel, and located a local shop to buy something to wear to the poker game the next night.
Typically, backroom games didn’t demand suits or dresses like special rooms in towns like Vegas.
I’d been to many tables with some people in full-on gowns like they’d just come from an awards show sitting across from someone in food-and sweat-stained tees.
The appeal of the games was usually more about doing something that no one else knew about, that wasn’t content on their socials, or where they’d be papped. It was fun for people of means and celebrity to be able to feel like they were ‘getting away with’ something or having secrets that no one else knew about.
The games were less challenging than with other pros, but also more light and fun.
Which was exactly what I was hoping for the next day as I slipped into a pair of black jeans and a black tee, since there was too much of a nip in the spring night air to wear the dress I’d originally planned on.
To balance it out, I slipped my feet into heels, fluffed my hair, and put a little more makeup on than usual.
I stuffed the cash at the bottom of my bag and made my way down to the lobby to wait for my ride-share.
I felt decent.
Good, even.
I’d gone without thinking about Harrison for a whole hour.
Dammit.
I guess I had to reset that clock again.
My initial directions were vague.
Downtown LA - east of Alameda.
It wasn’t until I texted my contact that I was getting close that more instructions came in.
“Are you sure?” my driver, a middle-aged woman who didn’t seem to like the look of the area, asked.