Read Online Lucky Bastard by Deborah Coonts - Free Book Online

shadow of worry passed across my father’s face. “His health hasn’t been good, but still, normally he would let me know if he couldn’t make it.”
    “I’ll follow up tomorrow.” I gave his arm a squeeze just because I felt like it. “Tonight you may be feeling your years, but I bet you were the only expectant father in the room.”
    Like a kid caught out after curfew, he blanched and shot me a worried look. “Shoot, I forgot.”
    “Forgot what?”
    “Your mother,” he said, weariness creeping into his voice.
    “How could anyone forget Mona? She’d never allow it.” Another thought wiped the grin off my face. “She’s okay, isn’t she?”
    My mother, the former owner of Mona’s Place, the self-styled “Best Whorehouse in Nevada,” had recently had a life-changing experience. My parents, afraid of offending those holding the keys to the kingdom—marrying an underage hooker would have catapulted my father right off the fast track, and probably have landed him in jail—had carried a torch for each other for half a lifetime. After a recent health scare and with the realization that they no longer had anything to lose other than perhaps their last chance at happiness, my parents had married. And now, after years in the sex trade, Mona found herself inexplicably with child—at an age where normal mothers are looking forward to bouncing grandchildren on their knees. Of course, normal was never an adjective used to describe Mother.
    Call me shallow, but I took a perverted delight in the cosmic justice, the laughable irony of it all.
    Except when I had to deal with her.
    A one-woman weapon of mass destruction, a pregnant Mona should come with a biohazard warning label.
    I took a good hard look at my father. He seemed to be holding up well. Of course, he was made of sterner stuff than his daughter.
    “How exactly would you define okay ?” my father asked with a tired grin. “She’s alive and well, propped up in bed, miserable, unable to sleep—so that means neither of us gets any shut-eye. Now she wants ice cream and something covered with mustard. I’ve been wandering around for half an hour trying to figure out what that might be.”
    Every Achilles has his heel and Mona was my father’s.
    “Is it really going to matter? She won’t be hungry when you get back, so get her a bowl of raspberry gelato, her favorite, and a big Coney dog with mustard.” My stomach roiled at the thought. “And perhaps a double hit of single-malt for you.”
    “You wouldn’t like to—” My father shot me his hangdog look. I fought the urge to cave and give him what he wanted. If only there was a vaccine against handsome men.
    “Do I look suicidal?”
    “Well, there’s a rumor floating around that you took down the mighty Stoneman, so I had high hopes that, fortified with the thrill of victory, you might be willing to wade back into the fray.”
    “Please, Marvin is a piker compared to Mother. She would be less than pleased at the comparison. I’d love to walk with you, but I still have some tidying up to do.” I caught Rachael’s eye and motioned for her to come over. My father gave my hand a quick squeeze then left to continue his mission. I didn’t envy him—a thankless, dangerous job trying to mollify a pregnant woman. “Rachael,” I said, turning my attention to the young woman as she rushed to my side. “Do you remember a blonde in a silver dress playing in the thousand-dollar buy-in?”
    “The one who was cheating?” Rachael said it so matter-of-factly I almost blew right by.
    “You knew?”
    “Of course. The game had been in progress an hour when my shift started. I was to take over from Mr. Johnstone.” The girl stared over my shoulder, her eyes unfocused as if she was reviewing an internal tape. “I wanted to remove her from the table. That’s standard procedure,” she said unnecessarily. “But I was overruled.”
    “Is that what you and Mr. Johnstone argued about?”
    “He wanted to