The Gambler - Raquel Belle Page 0,151

funeral.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Abby blinked, surprised to find that the crowd had already dispersed. How long had she zoned out for? She glanced at Wyatt and he winced. “Stupid question. Of course, you’re not alright. Where were you? You seemed to be in another world.”

“I just can’t believe he’s gone,” she said.

“Yeah ... Neither can I. It’s like just yesterday he and I were arguing about something or other. I think I’m going to miss him.”

“You think?”

Wyatt’s shoulders lifted. “I might be too busy worrying about you. I know how much you adored him.”

Abby let out a breath and squared her shoulders. She gave Wyatt a firm look and nearly burst into tears. He looked so much like their father—deep-red hair, the same build, the same facial features…

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she attempted a smile. “Who’s the older one here? Me or you? I’m the one who worries about you, Sprout, not the other way around.”

Wyatt’s upper lip curled. “You should have stopped calling me that after I hit puberty. It’s emasculating. If we weren’t at the old man’s funeral with all of these counterfeit mourners, I would lecture you on your dogged persistence in using that stupid nickname.”

Abby gasped. “Wyatt!” She glanced around to see if anyone had overheard her brother. He’d always been one to speak his mind, and he was never apologetic.

He lifted a brow, unbothered. “Oh, come on, you know they’re all here to butt their noses into our business. A prominent member of society upped and hung himself. It’s the hottest topic of gossip right now.” Wyatt let out a huff of breath, “but never mind that … We’ve got to go. We’ve got to go back to the house to entertain and feed that mass of leeches.”

“Wyatt ...”

“You’ve been calling my name in that reprimanding tone a lot today, Abbs. Give it up. I won’t stop making smart-ass comments.”

Her mouth twitched, but she forced down the smile. She was glad that she had decided to move back to Omaha, if only to be closer to her brother. He could always get a smile out of her. He moved toward the long line of cars parked in the cemetery. “Drive back with me so we can chat. I know you don’t want to get back into that car with Elaina. I can’t believe she showed up in that bright-ass-yellow Porsche. What an attention whore. Oops, do you think she heard me?” He grinned wickedly as he waltzed past Elaina.

“I heard you, you little shit,” Elaina said.

“At least try to act like civilized adults in public,” Celeste said. Her gray eyes landed on Abby. “Are you going to stand there all day? Let’s go. We have work to do.”

By work, she meant turning her daughter into a manipulative bitch like her. Abby huffed and trailed after them as she murmured under her breath, “welcome home, Abby.” She was beginning to think she should have stayed in New York. She caught up to Wyatt, who studied her with suspicion.

“What work would Mother dearest be talking about? She’s pretty much ignored our existence since our births. Now you two have work? Together?”

“It’s nothing ... Just some stuff to clear up with the lawyer,” Abby said. She felt terrible for lying to the one person she was always honest with.

His penetrating blue eyes roamed her face. “I see. Well, I hope you have fun.”

Fun was the last thing she would be having for a while. Exactly how long did it take to ruin someone like Coldwell? Abby wondered. Weeks? Months? With a heavy heart, she stifled a groan and ducked into Wyatt’s car.

***

Where the hell was he? Abby gulped down a glass of champagne, her patience wearing thin as she waited for Damian Coldwell. She surveyed the room with disdain. She never did understand why folks had to be so ostentatious for a charity event. It was a fundraiser for hungry children, for goodness sake. Why show off how much money you have with designer wear and excessive jewelry?

Abby placed her empty glass on a tray and grabbed a full one as a waiter passed. She was bored out of her mind and on her way to getting very intoxicated. She’d expected Damian to show up by now. It was his event. It was hard to believe that an evil bastard like him could care about hungry children…or anyone else for that matter. She whipped out her phone and called her sister.

“What is it, Abby?”

“Hello, to you,

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