by TJ Dallas
I wasn’t very maternal myself, either. Babies cost money, right?
Yes, but you might realise you don’t care about that, Georgia replied. Even you.
I doubt it. I formed a mental note to check my supply of birth control pills. I didn’t sleep with men regularly, but occasionally one could catch my eye.
My toast and scrambled eggs arrived, and I licked my lips. I was silent while I ate, and Georgia continued with her paperwork, watching Ambrosia out of the corner of her eye.
I soon placed my cutlery on my empty plate, taking a gulp of lukewarm tea. “Any plans for the rest of the day?”
“We’re going to the play park, aren’t we?” Georgia looked to Ambrosia, whose eyes lit up. “You love the swings, and you’d love for Aunt Bella to push you, wouldn’t you?” She tickled her cheeks, and Ambrosia shrieked in delight.
I laughed out loud. “Sounds like I don’t have much choice.”
After we finished our lunch, we began a leisurely stroll towards the park. The sun was shining, and it was a pleasantly warm day.
I removed my jumper and tied it around my waist. The park was only ten minutes away, and we sauntered along a quiet country path lined with shrubs while Ambrosia sat in her buggy and chatted away to herself. She was talking now, and while it was still incomprehensible chatter to me, Georgia answered her as if she understood every word.
“How do you feel when Galen’s got Ambrosia?” I asked, burying my hands in the pockets of my skirt so I had the comforting touch of money at my fingertips.
“I’m getting better. It was difficult to begin with, but I know he worships her, and he’ll do anything to protect her. She’s in safe hands.”
Galen was a nice guy, probably the nicest of the seven Virtues. In fairness, most of them were all right, except for Dylan. My own Virtue, Nikolai, was Charity. He was handsome, with an Icelandic history; long blond hair, a golden beard, and rich blue eyes. He was charming, and while I didn’t see him often (he frequently volunteered his time and money to aid those who needed help), we’d have a pleasant enough conversation when he did appear. His responsibility was to instil selflessness, self-sacrifice, and generosity in humanity, promoting human welfare and fighting for those less fortunate.
I respected it, but he was the complete opposite of me. He’d tell me how wonderful I’d feel if I were to volunteer an hour to those in need, and as much as my head understood his motives, my heart told me it was inconceivable. I was Greed for a reason. My purpose was to encourage financial gain and enhance materialistic impulses. Althea’s favourite phrase for it was pleonexia. It was just a fancier word for selfish.
Althea liked to rename things for the poetic charm. Her Clava Sexus was the first example, and I had to admit that it sounded better than “sex club.” She often referred to Harry’s ego as amour propre, a French term meaning “a sense of one’s own worth.”
But every now and again, she’d come out with an absolute cracker, and you’d think her vocabulary had come straight from the mouth of a toddler. I believed that she would just forget the correct word for something and try to play it off as poetic licence. I giggled as a memory resurfaced.
“What are you laughing at?” Georgia asked.
“Remember when we were on holiday last year, and Althea asked Harry to borrow her finger pants? Harry had looked at her in complete confusion until she realised she was talking about her gloves.”
“Oh, that was priceless. Remember when she asked a waiter for bagel seeds for breakfast?”
“Yeah, what was that again?”
“Cheerios,” Georgia replied, and I howled with laughter.
Ambrosia clapped her hands together as we turned the corner and the play park came into view. We strolled to the nearest set of swings, and Georgia knelt down to unbuckle the straps of the buggy.
Georgia placed Ambrosia in a swing and started to push as I looked around the park. I’d never been here before, having had no reason to visit a play park. It looked recently refurbished; there was a ground-level roundabout that accommodated wheelchairs, and a large swing in one corner. A wooden tower, with a long metal slide and a hidey-hole inside, and even a basketball net with two boys shooting hoops.
The park was quiet for such a sunny day, but I put the thought from my mind. It was only one o’clock in the afternoon, so most people were at work or school.
“Do you want Aunt Bella to push you?” Georgia spoke up, capturing my attention. Ambrosia bunched her hands into fists; her excitement was adorable.
“You’re a demanding little miss, aren’t you?” I asked, chortling and taking Georgia’s place as she sat on a nearby bench and pulled out her phone. After a few minutes, I slowed the swing. “What do you want to do now?”
Ambrosia and I played on the see-saw and went down the slide together too many times to count. It was great fun, and I humorously noticed myself envious of the people with children. Not because they had children, but because they could do things that adults couldn’t. A grown-up going down a slide is peculiar, but perfectly acceptable with a child. I thought of other things we could do as we ascended the ramp for the slide again. Soft play areas with ball pits, Disneyland, petting zoos …
After twenty minutes, Ambrosia wanted to go on the swings again, and I gently lowered her in. As I pushed, I noticed the boys had abandoned the basketball net (when Ambrosia gets older, I want a shot of that), and there was hardly anybody left in the play park.
I pushed the swing higher, and Georgia glanced up from the bench when Ambrosia giggled. I looked over with a grin, but the smile fell from my face when a hooded figure in the background caught my eye.
He was staring right at me, but he quickly looked down. I narrowed my eyes, my pulse increasing. He didn’t appear to be here with anyone; a child, or even a dog.
He began striding away, and I slowed the swing, lifting Ambrosia out. “I think it’s time to go,” I muttered, hoisting her into my arms. “Ready, Georgia?”
“Sure.” Georgia stood up, checking to make sure nothing had tumbled from the buggy.
We started walking back towards the Cardinal. I continued searching for the strange man, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. Had I overreacted?
It was a tragic world we lived in when you had to be so cautious. I’d heard reports of individuals who stopped at the roadside to help a lost infant, only to get robbed of their car when they stepped out. What a dismal time to be alive, when you had to consider your own safety before rushing to assist a lost child.
My stomach fell. I’d seen humanity’s evolution through the centuries, and while some elements had improved, it seemed to go backward in other aspects.
I relaxed as we approached the Cardinal, and I held the front door wide open for Georgia. She nudged the buggy through carefully, mindful not to snag the wheels on the door frame. We’d worn Ambrosia out, and she was snoring softly under a cosy white blanket.
We walked to the lift, and I pressed the illuminated numbers 2 and 4. “I better get back to work,” I said. “Thanks for inviting me; I enjoyed that. It was nice to get some fresh air.”
“No problem. I’ll see you soon.”
I skipped out of the lift and pushed open the door of the casino. I smiled at the symbol on the front door as I arrived; three playing cards, overlaid with a decorative number 2. The symbol was missing the fourth suit, the clubs. Clubs were unlucky for me, after an agonising defeat a century ago. It still provoked an uneasy shudder through me.
The symbol coordinated with the emblem on the yellow poker chip I had affixed to my keys, copies of which I handed out to my staff members for use on the other floors of the Cardinal.
Harry’s team had their rainbow bar blades, Madison’s team had green platinum membership cards, and Emilia’s personal trainers had red sweatbands around their wrists.
That reminds me; Nathan is leaving shortly, and I need to take his poke
r chip off him. I’ll be damned if he’ll get free use of the other floors without earning it. Harry had established those particular staff benefits years ago, and I still had sleepless nights over it to this day. Nothing should be given away for free.
I meandered towards the bar, eyeing up the customers as I approached. I suddenly caught sight of Jessica, holding her hand out questioningly. Damn it.
“Sorry, I’ll grab your bacon roll now, two seconds.” I whirled around but stopped and turned when she laughed.
“I’ll come with you,” she said, reaching for her handbag. “I’m on my lunch break now, anyway. You’re lucky your favourite bartender didn’t starve to death while you were away.”
I couldn’t help the corner of my mouth pulling up in a subtle grin. She hooked her arm through mine as we made our way to the restaurant.
The restaurant was quieter now that the main lunch service had ended, but Jess still pulled me towards a secluded table at the back of the room.
“Back again, Bella?” Elle asked, grinning.
I shrugged. “I couldn’t resist more of those scrambled eggs.”
Elle nodded, scribbling on her notepad and glancing towards Jessica.
“Chicken salad, some bread and butter, and ...” She paused, pondering. “A ginger beer.”
“Coming right up.”
Ella walked away, and I rearranged the coins in my pocket, trying to appear as casual as possible. I’d never had lunch with Jessica before, and I’d spent no time with her outside of the casino. My stomach was doing somersaults.
I took a deep breath and tilted my head as I studied her. She really was beautiful, and I struggled to rein in my thoughts. She’s straight, Bella, for fuck’s sake, I thought.
I heard that, Jess replied quietly, and my eyes widened.
Oh, shit. I didn’t have as much control over my telepathic abilities as the other managers did, and I felt the warmth rise on my cheeks. I couldn’t look up, my heart thumping behind my ribs. Jess had worked in the casino for years, and she knew about a select few of my abilities, but I hadn’t anticipated her accidentally overhearing my thoughts.
I detected movement out of the corner of my eye as Jessica made a move to stand, and I swallowed hard. Fuck, I’ve scared her off.
She was the best waitress, bartender, and mixologist I had, and I grimaced as I realised I’d have to go through the whole interview process to find someone to replace her. I doubted I would find someone as good as she was.
I peeked up as she knocked a fork from the table in her haste to leave. She crouched down to retrieve it, and I took the moment alone to breathe deeply.
My brow furrowed when she didn’t reappear.
I jumped, a tiny squeak escaping my throat as soft hands caressed my calves and made their way under my skirt. I hastily glanced down, tugging on the edge of the tablecloth. “What the—”
Shh, Jessica hissed, forcing my legs apart. Her lips found the tender skin above my knees, and I looked around, frantically trying to establish whether anyone had acknowledged the swift departure of my lunch companion. I prayed they couldn’t see her feet underneath the tablecloth.
I gasped as her fingertips slid underneath the string of my thong, and she tugged it down. More colour rose on my cheeks when I felt her hot breath, millimetres from my pussy. I closed my eyes.
“Scrambled eggs and one chicken salad— Wait, where’s your friend?”
I jumped, a loud thump indicating Jess had smacked her head on the underside of the table. My eyes were wide as I lowered my hand under the table, pretending to rub my knee. I tangled my fist in a handful of Jess’s hair, holding her away from my centre. I knew she was suppressing a fit of giggles.
“S-She had to nip to the ladies; she’ll be b-back soon,” I stammered, signalling for Elle to leave both plates.
Ella shrugged, setting everything down. I swallowed and watched her walk away, holding my breath. I exhaled heavily, surrendering my grasp on Jessica’s hair. Are you all right? I thought, smirking. It had sounded like quite a knock to the head.
She didn’t answer, and I struggled to hide a moan as her lips sucked my clit into her mouth. She pushed my thighs further apart as my eyes flitted around the restaurant. There were hardly any other customers, and I couldn’t even see any of the waiting staff. Jess had shielded us behind a tall, leafy plant, and now I realised why she’d done so.
I started to relax, my tense thighs unclenching. My stomach was getting tighter, though, waves of arousal pulsing through my core with every flick of her tongue. I tangled my fist in her hair again, gently this time, pulling her closer between my legs.
I assumed you were straight, I mumbled, stifling another groan.
Everyone assumes that. I guess I don’t look gay.
I froze again, my mind racing. Wait, Sam isn’t a boyfriend? Sam’s a girlfriend? You went to the Grand National with a girl?
I felt her nod, but she didn’t respond as I bucked my hips, an orgasm building deep inside me. My heart was pounding in my chest, threatening to explode. I couldn’t believe my luck. I touched the pendant at my throat, a smile growing wider on my lips.
I groaned as an incredible climax shot through me, and I clutched the edge of the table, biting my tongue. I held my breath, my insides clenching, sweat trickling down my cleavage. I moaned, as quietly as I could, trying to keep a watch on those around me. I rocked my hips against that expert mouth as she tried to clean up the mess I was making on the chair. Definitely not going to tell Georgia about that, I thought.
Tell me about what? Georgia replied.
Goddamn it. N-Nothing, Georgia.
My knuckles were white, but I started to breathe normally as the ebbs of the orgasm started to diminish a short while later. I gulped in air, my legs shaking.
I caught Jess’s gaze as she reappeared, a naughty glimmer in her eye. She licked her lips, casually sitting down and picking up her fork. I couldn’t say anything.
“Ahh, you’re back,” Elle said, reappearing from nowhere. “I forgot your ginger beer.”
“No problem, thanks.” Jess accepted the proffered glass from Elle and angled it, pouring the ginger beer down the side.
I couldn’t do anything except stare, a million thoughts firing through my brain. “Gay? Really?”
“Yep. I also used to be a goth, but don’t tell Sam. We’ve only been dating for a few months, and I’m not sure if that would scare her off. I had to hide all the photos of me in a dog collar.”
“I’d like to see you in a dog collar,” I replied.
“No chance.” She grinned, and I pouted.
We sat for a long time after we’d finished eating, sharing embarrassing stories. Not only was she a goth during her teens, but she also had a tattoo of a domino on her arse cheek; a drunken bet on holiday, apparently.
I growled. “I’d love to see that tattoo.”
“Maybe next time you take me to lunch. But for now, I better get back to work, or my boss will have a fit.” She winked as she stood up, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Or maybe the boss might offer you a pay rise.”
“Nah, she’s a tight arse. Won’t spend a penny unless she has to.” She winked again, and I withheld a sarcastic reply. “Her pussy tastes amazing, though, so there’s maybe something we can do about her tight arse.”
My stomach clenched. “Maybe,” I agreed, my heart racing again.
She straightened her shirt as she stood up. I held my breath as she leaned down, her supple lips a hair’s breadth from my ear. I expected a provocative whisper, but my gaze fell to the open palm in front of me.
I scowled as I dropped her earring into her hand, her fingers closing around it. She said nothing as she bypassed my ear to press her lips against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. I glanced up as she walked away, my core aching. I wouldn’t forget this lu
nch for a while.
Are the eggs that good? Georgia gushed, and I rolled my eyes.
Yes, Georgia.
Good to know. I’ve been experimenting with a unique black pepper from Indonesia, it’s …
I finally felt safe enough to stand as Georgia rambled on. My head swirled, and I briefly held onto the edge of the table. The dizziness passed as I walked towards the lift.
By the time I reached my office and sank into my chair, I’d learned more about black pepper than anyone should have to in a lifetime.
9
Bella
A week later, and I turned to Louis, my right-hand man. He was an accomplished card shark, and like myself, he was skilled at sleight of hand. His poker face was unbeaten, though; even I didn’t know if he had a tell or not. He grinned, and I gave him an imperceptible nod.
I looked at my surroundings, smiling at the various poker tables, roulette wheels, and fruit machines with their flashing bright colours. Familiar sounds warmed my heart; the rhythmic tinkle of coins dropping into a small metal tray, along with the steady melodic click of a ball in a roulette wheel, waiting to fall into one of the numbered pockets. I sighed contentedly, drawing my attention back to the matter at hand.
We had played the initial few rounds of poker, and they had all gone in our opposition’s favour. It was premeditated, and while Louis and I had sacrificed ten thousand pounds each to the cause, we’d win it back, with extra. I swallowed hard.
I finished my drink in a satisfying swallow, arranging the empty glass on the table in full view, continuing to chat with those around me. I needed them to loosen up, and after the first few rounds, and my subtle suggestion that I was an amateur, they sat back, releasing their shoulders and revelling in their easy profits. I smiled, adrenaline firing through my chest.
Jess appeared at the table and stood next to me, a notepad and pen in her hand. “Anybody for more drinks?”
“A lager shandy please,” announced one. Jess nodded, writing on her paper.
“Whisky, no ice,” said another. His name was James, and he was a well-known professional throughout the UK, having competed in numerous tournaments in Vegas.
