Page 60 of Breadwinner
“I’ll have Nate coordinate with you,” Nell said absently, as she scanned a clipboard she had grabbed from a hook on the wall. “He’ll set you up with the basics. Emergency go-bags, nonperishable items, and backup power. Those kinds of things. Nothing extravagant.”
“I don’t need?—”
“Yes, you do,” Nell cut in, her piercing eyes looking directly at her now. “It’s the kind of thing people don’t think about until it’s too late, and I won’t have that for you. I care about you too much. Plus, if the world is going to end one day, I think it wouldbe fun for us to have ourThelma & Louisemoment, and we can’t do that if you go out in the first wave.”
One day. The future. Nell wanted Sarah in her life for that long? That was new information to her.
Sarah crossed her arms, both impressed and shocked, taking it all in. “This is... a lot. Why do you have all this here? You don’t even live here.”
“Do you really think the end of the world is going to conveniently wait for me to be at home?” Nell looked at her patiently, as though her question was the most normal one in the world. “I have storage units like this all over the country. It’s just smart,” she said. “Don’t mistake my preparedness for paranoia.”
“So why are we here? Checking in on your bug-out supplies?”
Nell’s smile was placating. “No. All of this”—she waved a hand as her eyes darted to the clipboard again—“is getting moved up to Minnesota.”
Sarah studied her for a long moment, then shook her head, deciding not to ask for more details. She was fine letting Nell play her cryptic little games. “Leave it to you to make an emergency plan feel like a love language.”
Nell smirked. “Oh, darling, this isn’t my love language.” She leaned in, her voice lowering slightly. “Tonightis my love language.”
She scribbled something on the clipboard, then placed it back on the hook before shutting and locking the unit door behind them.
The floor of the Palms casino echoed with laughter and the melodic chime of slot machines. Sarah barely registered any of it as velvet moved against her skin, the black floor-lengthBalenciaga gown Nell had picked out for her hugging her curves in all the right ways.
She found the entrance to the private room Nell had set up for the evening’s charity event and made her way past the two discreetly dressed security guards. She paused inside, taking a deep breath, centering herself in the role she was about to play for Nell. She scanned the room, searching for the familiar dark hair. Gold light shimmered from elaborate chandeliers as people moved in tailored tuxedos and couture gowns, but it took her only seconds to find Nell.
Sarah spotted her seated at one of the blackjack tables, her posture impossibly relaxed, with one arm draped over the back of her chair, deep in conversation with a woman Sarah recognized as Senator Renee Fairchild from Connecticut. The senator was laughing, her hand resting lightly on Nell’s forearm as she leaned in closer, her smile conspiratorial. Sarah felt an uncomfortable tug in her chest as she watched Nell’s response.
She didn’t know what they were talking about, but she found herself a little jealous that this woman was currently commanding Nell’s full attention, having her hang on her every word, when all Sarah wanted was to be that person. But that thought quickly vanished as Nell’s gaze found hers, and a slow smile curled across her dark-red lips.
Nell’s expression shifted subtly as a look of pleasure, pride, and the slightest hint of command accompanied her smile. With a tiny tilt of her chin, she delivered her approval, her gaze lingering a little longer than usual, and Sarah could almost hear Nell’s low, throaty voice in her ear saying,You look perfect. Now go and shine for me.
That look emboldened her, flowing through every inch of her.
Sarah smiled and nodded in acknowledgment, already moving across the floor. They were fluent in their nonverbal language by now. She didn’t need Nell to say a word to knowexactly what she wanted her to do: mingle, be seen, impress, and—most importantly—make Nell look good.
She moved through the room like Nell had taught her. Always do a lap first and make a point to greet the people you know.Networking before fun, she reminded herself. As she floated between groups, she was surprised at how many people remembered her from Nell’s various introductions over the last few months. But with every conversation, one constant remained: she could always feel Nell’s watchful eyes on her.
She found an opening at a roulette table near the champagne bar. Before she could say a word, a waitress approached and set a crystal tumbler at her elbow.
“Bourbon on the rocks, compliments of Ms. Stanhope.”
It was an open bar—she knew that—but that didn’t stop the slight flutter in her stomach at the thought of Nell pausing her conversation with such an important person to make sure Sarah had her favorite drink. She took a sip, letting the bourbon settle her nerves. The warmth filled her from the inside out. It tasted expensive and quietly possessive, just like Nell.
“Look at you, Ms. Gallagher,” came a familiar southern drawl from beside her. “If looks could kill, we’d all be in trouble.”
Sarah turned to see Angela Dupree, timeless in a navy silk jumpsuit and diamonds that glittered against her dark skin. Her presence at this table would have rattled Sarah before, but not now. Sarah just smiled.
“Angela, hello. I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, or else I would have made a point to find you sooner.”
“I’m everywhere, sweetness. I’m also at an age where I like to hang back and watch the kids work the room before I step in.” She grinned as she slipped into the open space beside her, her eyes moving over the spinning wheel, watching the balls progress. “Nell has taught you well, I see. Then again, a woman as intelligent as you probably doesn’t need much instruction.”
She could have sworn Angela winked at her. Sarah forced her attention back on Angela as she continued to speak, each placing their bets. Sarah decided to play it safe and bet one hundred dollars on even. Her strategy had always been outside bets—lower risk with a higher chance of payout over time.
“You’ve had quite the impressive career win since we met over the summer. That data privacy case of yours was a clever and artful interpretation of the law.”
The clattering of the ball drowned out her observation as it made its way round and round before dropping into a red pocket. Sarah didn’t even glance at the result. She was too focused on the way Angela was watching her. It was eerily familiar.
“Place your bets,” called the dealer to the small crowd gathered around the table. Sarah took another one-hundred-dollar chip and made the same bet as before. Angela matched her bet with a smile as the dealer sent the ball spinning again.