Read Online Reinventing Rachel by Alison Strobel - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alison Strobel
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slamming of a receiver.”
Rachel nodded and moved to the other chair. “I agree.”
Daphne streaked the tears away with the heel of her hand. “Men.”
“You’re telling me.”
She snorted in agreement and sighed. “I take it back—he’s not a man. He’s a child. And a coward. Waits till I’m a few thousand miles away before dumping me.”
“Marc dumped you? What happened?”
Daphne waved a hand, eyes sliding from Rachel to the view and focusing on something beyond the glass. “He decided to get all judgmental and—know what? Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” She sniffed and stood, then bent over her suitcase, tossing clothes about and pulling out an item now and then to examine. “It’s just as well.” She straightened, shaking out a sundress. “I can only put up with younger men for so long.”
She stripped off the T-shirt she’d slept in and pulled the dress over her head, then twisted the upper layer of her thick dark hair into a bun and secured it with a rubber band. Approximately fifteen seconds of prep time and she looked like Aphrodite, another thing that had always made Rachel jealous.
“But if hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” she said she tied a silk scarf around her throat, “then two scorned women are a force that can flatten a city. C’mon, sister—it’s time to avenge our wounded souls.” Her eyes glinted, then she cocked her head, squinting at Rachel. “Is that my shirt? You’re smokin’, by the way.” Without waiting for an answer, she scooped up her shoes and purse and walked barefoot into the hall.
o
Rachel was afraid to know what two scorned women did to avenge their wounded souls, so she didn’t bother to ask as they sliced through the casino and headed out the doors to the Strip. Daphne didn’t look upset, though she did look a bit intense—chin up, strides long but with a sway to her hips that made her look like a runway model on the verge of power-walking. Her long legs carried her through the casino at a speed that required Rachel to nearly jog. Once they hit the sidewalk she was forced to slow down by the sheer number of people already there, and Rachel groaned at the heat.
“I’m guessing you already ate?” Daphne asked as they waited for a stoplight to change.
“Yes, but I don’t mind eating some more,” Rachel said with a grin. “I was so hungry this morning, the first meal pretty much just calmed the fire. I’m ready for another one to actually fill me up.”
Daphne laughed, and it dulled the edge she’d had since they’d left the hotel room. “Pauvre bébé . I hear there are a ton of places to eat at Caesars. Would that be all right?”
Rachel assured her anything was fine, so long as it was edible. They crossed the street in front of the Bellagio, where the water show was in full swing against the musical backdrop of Sinatra’s “Fly Me to the Moon.” Swept along with the masses, they ascended to the elevated and blessedly shaded crosswalk that connects the Bellagio with Caesars. A few minutes later they were greeted by an arctic blast of air-conditioning when they entered the casino. They followed the signs to the Augustus Café, the ubiquitous twenty-four-hour Vegas eatery: cheap eats, Denny’s-like menu selections, and a mix of families and clusters of hangover-dazed patrons. Daphne ordered a plate of mozzarella sticks to start.
“Well, Daph, I’m really sorry,” Rachel said as they sipped their water. “You seem to be doing pretty well, considering.”
Daphne shrugged. “We were just killing time, and I knew it. He wasn’t long-term material. Still, getting dumped sucks.”
Rachel nodded, thinking. “So … explain something for me. You knew you wouldn’t be with him long term, so why didn’t you break it off sooner? What’s the point in staying in a relationship that isn’t working?”
“It’s not that it wasn’t working. It was working just fine, for what it was. I was bored, I was lonely, I
Rachel nodded and moved to the other chair. “I agree.”
Daphne streaked the tears away with the heel of her hand. “Men.”
“You’re telling me.”
She snorted in agreement and sighed. “I take it back—he’s not a man. He’s a child. And a coward. Waits till I’m a few thousand miles away before dumping me.”
“Marc dumped you? What happened?”
Daphne waved a hand, eyes sliding from Rachel to the view and focusing on something beyond the glass. “He decided to get all judgmental and—know what? Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” She sniffed and stood, then bent over her suitcase, tossing clothes about and pulling out an item now and then to examine. “It’s just as well.” She straightened, shaking out a sundress. “I can only put up with younger men for so long.”
She stripped off the T-shirt she’d slept in and pulled the dress over her head, then twisted the upper layer of her thick dark hair into a bun and secured it with a rubber band. Approximately fifteen seconds of prep time and she looked like Aphrodite, another thing that had always made Rachel jealous.
“But if hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” she said she tied a silk scarf around her throat, “then two scorned women are a force that can flatten a city. C’mon, sister—it’s time to avenge our wounded souls.” Her eyes glinted, then she cocked her head, squinting at Rachel. “Is that my shirt? You’re smokin’, by the way.” Without waiting for an answer, she scooped up her shoes and purse and walked barefoot into the hall.
o
Rachel was afraid to know what two scorned women did to avenge their wounded souls, so she didn’t bother to ask as they sliced through the casino and headed out the doors to the Strip. Daphne didn’t look upset, though she did look a bit intense—chin up, strides long but with a sway to her hips that made her look like a runway model on the verge of power-walking. Her long legs carried her through the casino at a speed that required Rachel to nearly jog. Once they hit the sidewalk she was forced to slow down by the sheer number of people already there, and Rachel groaned at the heat.
“I’m guessing you already ate?” Daphne asked as they waited for a stoplight to change.
“Yes, but I don’t mind eating some more,” Rachel said with a grin. “I was so hungry this morning, the first meal pretty much just calmed the fire. I’m ready for another one to actually fill me up.”
Daphne laughed, and it dulled the edge she’d had since they’d left the hotel room. “Pauvre bébé . I hear there are a ton of places to eat at Caesars. Would that be all right?”
Rachel assured her anything was fine, so long as it was edible. They crossed the street in front of the Bellagio, where the water show was in full swing against the musical backdrop of Sinatra’s “Fly Me to the Moon.” Swept along with the masses, they ascended to the elevated and blessedly shaded crosswalk that connects the Bellagio with Caesars. A few minutes later they were greeted by an arctic blast of air-conditioning when they entered the casino. They followed the signs to the Augustus Café, the ubiquitous twenty-four-hour Vegas eatery: cheap eats, Denny’s-like menu selections, and a mix of families and clusters of hangover-dazed patrons. Daphne ordered a plate of mozzarella sticks to start.
“Well, Daph, I’m really sorry,” Rachel said as they sipped their water. “You seem to be doing pretty well, considering.”
Daphne shrugged. “We were just killing time, and I knew it. He wasn’t long-term material. Still, getting dumped sucks.”
Rachel nodded, thinking. “So … explain something for me. You knew you wouldn’t be with him long term, so why didn’t you break it off sooner? What’s the point in staying in a relationship that isn’t working?”
“It’s not that it wasn’t working. It was working just fine, for what it was. I was bored, I was lonely, I
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