Bastien demurred, “Surely, only I can hear it because I’m from Geneva. Most people probably can’t.”
Flicka was aghast that even he could hear it. “I don’t speak like a villain from a World War Two movie, do I?”
“Certainly not. Most people probably wouldn’t notice it at all. You probably sound to them like an upper-class, London Brit. Perhapsyou’re more comfortable with me because I’m a fellow Helvetian.”
“But I’m not Swiss,” she reminded him, careful about her pronunciation.
Bastien looked confused. “Oh, my mistake. Wishful thinking, perhaps.”
Flicka mollified herself with the fact that most of the casino guests asked if she was from England, so there was that.
“But you’ve lived in the States for a short time, surely,” Bastiensaid. “Your accent is so very British, not Southwestern.”
“There’s that, at least,” she said.
“But you can’t have lived in Nevada long, either.”
“Not too long.” She mixed a Humble Pie out of vodka, Aperol, lemon juice, and club soda, kind of a boozy Italian soda.
“I’ve heard that the suburbs of Nevada are more affordable, especially if one is living with someone.”
“I haven’t been around longenough to know.” Flicka never mentioned her personal life. No one at work knew about Dieter or Alina.
“And I’ve heard that living expenses here are reasonable, compared to Europe, especially if one lives on the outskirts of town. Where did you say you are renting?”
“Oops, Scotta needs five beers. I’ll talk to you later.”
At least she sounded more Swiss than German, at least to Bastien.
Butshe was more careful about her accent, after that conversation. German princesses were rare, so if someone were looking for her, asking about a tall blonde with a German accent would be an excellent way to hone in on her.
She’d never thought of her accent asSchwiizertüütsch,even though she’d lived in Switzerland for longer than she’d lived in Germany.
Dark, round, brown vowels,she remindedherself, drawing each word out like an actor from the Royal Shakespeare Company, making her accent seem more upper-class British. Whether she sounded more German or Swiss German, Master Hamilton would have failed her if she had spoken with such an “abominable native accent” in her English classes at Le Rosey.
From her position behind the bar, Flicka could see Dieter sitting in the middle of thecasino, and he could keep an eye on her and her surroundings every minute. If she stayed in one place instead of sprinting all over the casino, it could make his job easier, too.
At the end of the day, Prissy told Flicka that the bar was hers for the coveted afternoon to midnight shift.
The waitstaff shared their tips with her because she was the bartender, as always, but everyone’s tips wereso much better that everyone went home up for the night.
Including Flicka.
Who was now rather popular with the other waitresses.
She hadn’t been ostracized at the Silver Horseshoe, but making other people’s jobs easier and simultaneously increasing their take-home pay seemed to make her quite the girl of the day.
Dieter went home up for the night, too, so the two of them planned to go outto supper to celebrate.
That didn’t go nearly so well.
