by Adele Parks
“Oh, for God’s sake, man, grow up,” Patrick snapped.
Startled, Lexi and Jake turned their heads toward him, and the others all dropped their eyes to their plates. Lexi felt something in the air, a chill.
“Will you cut the crap. All this talk about lotto wins is doing my head in. That’s not how you make money in this world. You need to graft.”
“Patrick, playing the lotto is only a bit of fun,” said Lexi, in what she hoped was a placating tone.
“It’s crass,” he muttered aggressively. Lexi felt the hairs on her body stand in revolt. Crass? Coming from him? She wanted to slap him. But she also wanted to preserve what they had around this table. Fifteen years of friendship.
“It’s a few quid, man, what are you making a fuss for?” Jake asked with a laugh that may have been designed to mollify but sounded a bit insistent.
Patrick looked uncomfortable, shifted on his seat, fingered his collar as though his tie was too tight, although he wasn’t wearing a tie. “It’s not the money, of course it’s not the money.” He paused and then added, “It’s what it says.”
“What it says?”
“About us.” No one was making eye contact. Lexi thought about offering dessert or another drink, but she didn’t bother.
“What does buying a lotto ticket say about us, exactly?” challenged Jake. He held his smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Come on, mate, you know what I’m saying.”
“I really don’t.”
“It’s for losers. Even the winners are losers,” Patrick sniggered to himself. “You know how it goes. Someone wins a huge amount and they buy a big house or two, fancy cars, just as you’ve described. They snort a fortune up their nose, go on flash holidays and in less than a few years they are back riding the bus, living in a rented house. They can’t hack it, these people.”
“These people?”
“And the sad thing is, they’re not as happy as they were before, because they’ve tasted the high life, seen how the other half lives.” Patrick reached for the whiskey bottle that Lexi’s mum had given Jake for his birthday. Patrick poured himself a generous measure.
Then with some bitterness, he added, “The wrong sort always wins. Statistically they have a better chance because it’s idlers and doleys that buy tickets.”
Jake snorted. “Does anyone say doleys anymore?”
“I just did,” replied Patrick seriously. “It’s such a waste. Those people aren’t used to having money, they don’t know how to deal with it. How to invest, how to spend, how to save, most importantly. Losers.”
“Well, dreamers,” Lexi suggested.
Jake laughed. It was a strained, overly dramatic laugh. “If you think this way, why have you been doing the lottery for fifteen years?”
“To humor you.” Patrick grinned coldly. “You seem to enjoy doing it. You like a flutter.” He paused over the word “flutter,” his tone mocking, derisory.
“Well, you don’t have to be part of the syndicate,” said Lexi. “You’re under no obligation.”
“Fine. I don’t want to be a killjoy, but...”
“But?”
“We’re going to pull out.”
“Okay.” Lexi nodded. She felt a flush of shame rise up her chest and neck, and she hoped it wouldn’t reach her face. She wasn’t absolutely certain what she felt ashamed of. Something intangible. She suddenly felt accused. Accused of what? She wasn’t sure. Had she and Jake press-ganged their friends into coughing up every week? Into doing something they didn’t want to do? But it was just a few quid. Why wouldn’t they want to do it? It was fun. And for it to be Patrick of all people to judge her. He had no right. Yet she felt insulted, hurt.
“It’s not as though we’re ever actually going to win,” chipped in Carla.
“No, but—” Lexi clamped her mouth shut. She didn’t want to say that she valued the tradition, the fact it was a thing, their thing. A bit like watching the fireworks together on Guy Fawkes Night or seeing in the new year—something they’d always done. If it needed saying, it wasn’t true. It wasn’t “their thing” if only she believed it to be so.
“It’s common, like taking your shirt off in public or having a tattoo,” Patrick said.
Jake bristled. Jake had a tattoo on his shoulder. They all knew as much. It had been the center of discussion when they first went on holiday to Lexi’s mum and dad’s place in Spain years ago, and in fact the tattoo had been center of discussion every holiday since.
The silence throbbed.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s just a few quid, if it makes you happy,” said Carla. She reached for her handbag, scrabbled about in her purse. “Here’s our fiver. We’re in.” She hated it when her husband became pigheaded, caused a scene. Patrick rolled his eyes. “All right, Patrick,” said Carla, her voice steely. “We’re happy to carry on with the lottery, aren’t we?”
“If it makes you happy,” he said, and then downed his whiskey.
Fred quickly followed suit. His jacket was hung on the back of his chair. He dug out his wallet, threw in a tenner, picked up Carla’s fiver as change. “Us too, Lexi. It’s just a bit of fun, isn’t it? No need for us to fall out about it.”
Jennifer smiled, her eyes on Jake. “You never know your luck, our numbers might come up next week, and then all our lives will change forever.”
* * *
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Dear Reader,
Prepare yourself for gratitude overload. I am always pretty profuse with my thank-yous, but on the publication of my twentieth novel I have an especially huge amount to be grateful for.
Thank you, Jonny Geller, for years of continual support, advice and true friendship. How lucky that we found each other, way back when. Mark Twain said, “Success is a journey, not a destination. It requires constant effort, vigilance and reevaluation.” That’s certainly been our journey. I’m glad we have walked every step of the road together.
I never know where to start with my thanks to my publishers, Kate Mills and Lisa Milton, who are two of the most incredible women I’ve ever had the joy to work with. You are quite simply brilliant, oozing resolve, enthusiasm, ingenuity and business acumen. I’m so incredibly fortunate to have you. I have such enormous respect for you both.
Thank you to Charlie Redmayne for being an interested, encouraging and inspiring CEO. You captain a great ship!
I’ve always believed that if a book is lucky enough to be successful, then that’s because there’s an enormous number of people doing their jobs incredibly well. I’m so delighted to be working with such fantastic teams in the UK and across the globe. I am thoroughly appreciative of the talent and commitment of every single person involved in this book’s existence. Thank you so much for all your support and dedication—Anna Derkacz, Georgina Green, Fliss Porter, Sophie Calder, Izzy Smith, Joanna Rose, Claire Brett, Darren Shoffren, Becky Heeley, Agnes Rigou, Aisling Smyth, Emily Yolland, Kate Oakley and Anna Sikorska.
I want to send another massive thank-you across the seas to the amazing James Kellow, Loriana Sacilotto, Margaret Marbury, Leo McDonald, Carina Nunstedt, Celine Hamilton, Pauline Riccius, Anna Hoffmann, Eugene Ashton, Olinka Nell and Rahul Dixit. There are many others who I have yet to meet, but I know I’m so lucky that incredible professionals worldwide are giving my books their love and attention. It’s so ridiculously exciting. Thank you.
Thank you to all my readers, bloggers, reviewers, retailers, librarians and fellow authors who have supported me throughout my career. I couldn’t have done this without you.
Thank you to my mum, dad, sister, nieces and nephew who are continually supportive of everything I do, who love me and my books whether the sales are good, bad or indifferent!
Thank you, Jimmy and Conrad. No woman could ever hope for more support from a husband or son. I really did win the family lottery.
Finally, I’d like to warmly thank Guy Rudolph and Andy Carter for giving their time and expertise explaining what happens when a person wins the lottery. It was so kind of you!
ISBN-13: 9780369700957
Just My Luck
Copyright © 2021 by Adele Parks
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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