Page 235 - It Ends with Us
P. 235

there’ s  ano ther    kno ck  on    the   door.  Thi s  time   the   door   swing s  open

                witho ut    pause   and    a   guy   walks   in   dres sed    in   wha t   looks   like   a   ver y
                ex pens ive  twee d  jacket .  There’ s  a  scar f  wrapped   around   hi s  nec k,  and
                he  beg ins   to  unw ind   it  as  soon  as  he  slams  the  door  behi nd   hi m.  He
                nu dges  hi s hea d in  my direc tion  as he  walks toward the  kitchen.  “Who
                are  you?”
                    He’s older  tha n  the  other  two, probably in  hi s mid-forties .

                    Atlas defini tel y ha s an  int eres ting  mix of friend s.
                    “Thi s is Lily,” Brad says. “She’s marri ed  to an  assho le  and  just found
                out   she ’s   preg na nt    with   the   assho le’s   baby.   Lily,   thi s   is   Jimmy.   He’s
                pompous and  arro gant .”
                    “Pompous  and   arro gant   are  the  same  thi ng ,  idiot,”  Jimmy  says.  He
                pulls  out  the  cha ir  nex t  to  Darin  and   nu dges   hi s  hea d  at  the  cards  in
                my    ha nd s.   “Did   Atlas   plant    you   here   to   hu stle   us?   Wha t   kind    of

                avera ge  pers on  kno ws ho w to shu ffle  cards like  tha t?”
                    I  smile  and   beg in  to  pass  cards  out  to  ea ch  of  them .  “I  gues s  we’l l
                ha ve  to play a round  to find  out.”


                                                           •  •  •


                We’re  on  our thi rd round  of bet s when  Atlas fina lly walks in.  He  closes
                the   door   behi nd   hi m  and   looks  around   at  the      four   of  us.  Brad  said
                somet hi ng    funny    right    bef ore   Atlas   opened    the   door,   so   I’m   in   the

                middle  of  a  fit   of  laught er  when  Atlas  locks  ey es   with  me.   He  no ds  hi s
                hea d toward the  kitchen  and  beg ins  walking  in  tha t direc tion.
                    “Fold,”  I say, laying  my cards flat on  the  table  as I stand  up to follow
                hi m.  Wh en  I  get   to  the  kitche n,   he’s  stand ing   where  he  isn’t  visible  to
                the  guys at the  table.  I walk over  to hi m and  lea n  agains t the  count er.
                    “You want  me  to ask them  to lea ve?”
                    I  sha ke  my  hea d.  “No,  don’t  do  tha t.  I’m  actually  enj oying   it.  It’s
                keep ing  my mind  off thi ng s.”

                    He   no ds   and    I   can’t   hel p   but   no tice   ho w   he   smel ls   like   herb s.
                Rosem ary,  spec ific ally.  It  makes   me  wish  I  could  see       hi m  in  action  at
                hi s res taurant .
                    “You hu ng ry?” he  asks.
                    I   sha ke   my   hea d.   “Not   rea lly.   I   ate   some   lef tover   pasta   a   couple

                ho urs ago.”
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