Odds : A Love Story (9781101554357) Read Online Free PDF Page B

so, the admission was a major shift, the recognition that they needed to change the way they were with each other if they were going to move on. Unless he was completely mistaken, she seemed to be asking for his help.
    But he was not adept at reading her, especially after a few drinks. That had been made clear enough times in the past.Approaching her with high spirits and what he thought were innocent hopes, he’d tasted more than his share of rejection, and he was wary. If she really was finally beginning to forgive him, he wouldn’t risk it by pushing her.
    Beside him, she made a queasy face, pressing a hand to her midsection as if she were having contractions. “How’s your stomach?”
    “Fine,” he said.
    “Mine’s a little rumbly. Actually a lot rumbly.”
    “You’re not going to throw up.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “I wonder if the tuna was bad.”
    “You had a few bites too.”
    “Not that many.”
    “It’s probably just stress.”
    “We’ll get you upstairs.”
    So no champagne. No tub. Now he was glad he didn’t have the ring. He didn’t want it associated with anything that could be read as a bad omen.
    Let down, he turned calculating, scanning the lobby for a cashier’s cage. Across from the elevators, the slot machines dinged and blinked, an empty temptation, their odds steeply tilted toward the house. Deeper within the casino, hidden somewhere among the acres of brightly patterned carpeting and table games, were two high-stakes French roulette wheels without the American model’s unfair 00. He had hoped to locate them and stroll by to study the action before their dry run tomorrow night, but that, like so many other desires, would have to wait.
    “Remember,” she said, “you wanted to change that money.”
    “We can do it tomorrow.”
    “I’m fine, I think I just need to sit.”
    The elevator came and they took their positions against the rear wall, hoping no one would join them. To his relief, no one did. Normally when they were riding alone he would try to steal an inappropriate kiss—a game, since she was scandalized by cameras. Now, to show support, he held her hand.
    In the hall, he went ahead to open the door for her. The turndown service had been in, leaving tempting breakfast menus for the doorknob and heart-shaped chocolates on their pillows. She dropped her purse on the bed and went directly to the bathroom. He pulled off his tie and stood looking at the view, a string of miniature streetlights describing a road on Goat Island. Beside it, the river ran invisible, fell red and frothing for a few seconds, shedding mist, then returned to darkness again. He and Wendy had poured champagne over each other, spent days barricaded in hotel rooms like fugitives, blinds drawn against the light. It was so long ago that he was tempted to cast those hours in a nostalgic haze, leaving out Marion completely. The great mystery to him wasn’t the power of that happiness—he was at heart a romantic, and it was a romance—but how he could be so remorseless toward the rest of the world. Until then he’d thought of himself as a decent person. Afterwards he couldn’t say what he was.
    “Hey,” Marion called.
    “Is for horses.”
    “Can you hand me my book?”
    “Where is it?”
    It was waiting on her night table.
    “Here you go. Oh my lord.” Pinching his nose, he reached the mystery in to her and slapped on the fan.
    “I know, I apologize. I think it was the tuna. And you feel fine.”
    “Strong like bull.”
    “Go do your money. I’m going to be a while.”
    “Want me to grab you some Gaviscon or something?”
    “I don’t think it would help. Maybe some Imodium.”
    “I’ll see what they have.”
    The money was still there, just as he’d left it. Having nothing else to carry it in, he took the gym bag, aware that it made him conspicuous. He checked on her a last time, looped the DO NOT DISTURB card over the knob, and like that, he was suddenly, disappointingly,