Secret Whispers (Heavenstone 2) - Page 97

“I took some French in high school, but I don’t speak it fluently enough to try.”

“Very wise. And college? You didn’t continue with a language?”

I laughed. “I’m not that old. I haven’t even started going to college, much less graduated from one.”

“Ah, a child bride.”

“Peut-être,” I said, remembering that it meant “maybe.” He laughed again.

The waitress brought his coffee and croissant.

“How long did you stay last night?” he asked.

“Not too much longer after I saw you. You left?”

“Oh, no. I was on a break. I’m a blackjack dealer. You know how to play blackjack?”

“Yes, but I don’t gamble or play cards.”

I smiled to myself, remembering how much Cassie had hated board games and cards. Mother had tried to get us to play gin rummy with her, but Cassie wouldn’t.

“Simply killing time with worthless amusement is the same as lying in a grave,” she had told us. To her,

nothing had been as sinful as wasting time when she could be reading or doing something she considered worthwhile.

“And this new husband of yours, he does?”

“Not before this. At least, not with me, not as long as I’ve known him,” I said mournfully.

Henri picked up on my tone and look. “He lost a lot . . . you said a ‘disaster’ ?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe it’s a painful lesson, and from now on he’ll be different.”

“I hope so.”

He smiled and nodded. “I have a daughter who should be about your age now,” he said.

“Should be? Don’t you know if she is?”

“Unfortunately, I haven’t seen her since she was two. My wife couldn’t tolerate this life.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “I don’t blame her, but she moved as far away from me as she could. She lives in Tahiti and is remarried.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Whenever I see a pretty young woman like yourself, I think of my daughter. Being with you makes me feel as if I’m with her. I can imagine, at least. You understand?”

“Yes,” I said. “You’ve been a blackjack dealer for a long time, then?”

“A long time. It’s not so bad for me. I like to watch the people who gamble. Some say prayers. Some have good-luck charms, and some have their own mathematical methods. Too many think they’ll find some answer, some happiness, something to fill a hole in their lives, if they win big. And then there are those who are, like your husband, I imagine, caught up in the excitement. Don’t tell anyone I told you, but it’s a dangerous place.”

“Yes, it is,” I said. “And beautiful, too. I read about the architecture.”

“Beauty without innocence is dangerous too often. You understand?”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Heavenstone
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