Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Getting up, I decided to skip running today since that was a surefire way to make my period happen faster.
I walked to the kitchen and got some Eggos started for the kids, then emptied out my tips from the day before.
Flicking on the TV to the morning news—I liked staying current with the events happening around the area—I started counting my tips.
One hundred and eleven dollars for an eight-hour shift.
Wasn’t great.
Wasn’t horrible.
I pushed the tips into the junk drawer for safe keeping noticing the lottery ticket in the same drawer where I had left it months ago, then headed for my sister and brother’s rooms.
After telling them breakfast was ready, I went about getting the dishes from the previous night into the dishwasher.
The droning of the male anchor’s voice was drowned out by the clatter of the dishes.
Anders got up and started searching through our junk drawer, a frown marring her face.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“A highlighter,” she mumbled. “Hey, these numbers match!”
I frowned and turned to see Anders holding the lottery ticket up and studying the numbers hard with the ones on the screen that she’d paused.
“What?” I asked.
Kent nabbed the ticket and then his eyes widened. “Holy fuck. I think…Searcy. These, I think. Oh…”
I picked up the lottery ticket and my heart started to pound.
The numbers matched.
Holy. Hell.
I pressed play, and the anchor started to talk about the winning Powerball, and how the ticket for the winner had been sold in Decatur, Texas, months ago but hadn’t been claimed yet.
I’d been hearing about this “winner” for weeks, but it’d never occurred to me that the winner could be me!
“The winning Powerball numbers were picked at a small Texas gas station in Decatur, Texas. The winner has not come forward yet, but I’m sure she or he will show up soon!” the anchor chirped.
I sat down hard on the chair and stared.
“What. The. Fuck?” I breathed, my hands literally shaking.
I didn’t know what to do.
Literally, I’d never even contemplated that I’d win the lottery, so why would I have any idea where I wanted to go from this point forward?
Seriously, I didn’t even know what to do with a lottery ticket!
Did I go to the gas station and turn it in? That was what one did with scratch offs.
“What do we do?” Kent looked at me like I was some alien from outer space.
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
I did that a few times before Calliope came in from the back yard—she stayed in a shed out back that we’d converted for her a couple of years ago—and said, “What’s the problem?”
Since none of us were sure about Calliope and her loyalties anymore, Kent replied, “Just talking to Searcy about lunch today. See ya.”
Kent grabbed my wrist in a surprisingly firm grip and asserted, “Come on. You have to take us since we missed the bus.”
Since I rarely drove my car, and I wasn’t even sure it’d start up, that was quite comical.
But I did see the logic in his plan.
“Okay,” I said, voice slightly quivery.
Anders grabbed my hand and we walked out the door.
It was an out-of-body experience if I’d ever felt one.
I didn’t even feel my feet hitting the raggedy steps.
Nor did I hear the creaking groan of the door opening to my car.
I was inside, and at the passenger seat at that, when Kent said, “Where do we go?”
I cleared my throat for a second before saying, “I only have one idea, and I think it might just be a crazy one.”
Because the only person that came to mind that would know what to do was Posy Hicks. The man that I both loved and hated.
“What’s that?” Kent asked as he started the car up.
It actually cranked for once, and he put it in reverse. “We have like fumes. We can fill up while you make your brain work.”
I let him fill the car up, which was fucking nuts because I usually didn’t have a spare forty dollars to just throw into a car for gas that I barely ever drove.
“Okay,” Kent said as he slammed the door closed. “Where am I driving?”
I bit my lip, realizing that what I was thinking was absolutely crazy.
Yet, I told him anyway.
Fifteen
I have good problem-solving skills, but my problem creating skills are where I really shine.
—Searcy to Posy
POSY
“What’s up?” I asked carefully.
Usually when Yates called me, it was because there was something wrong.
A fence that needed mending. A bull that’d gotten out.
Something that I didn’t have the time to deal with right then.
“There’s a woman here asking for you,” he informed me. “And she’s wearing some skimpy short shorts that are making all the ranch hands drool.”
An image of Searcy popped into my head.
Goddamn, did those short shorts do some great things for her ass.
Speaking of ass, I couldn’t stop thinking about hers and last night.