Applause swells.
“We had a goal tonight,” Jacob goes on as a beaming smile lights up his face. “And I’m happy to say…we significantly surpassed it.”
The room erupts in whistles and cheers. Someone in the back pounds the table, causing more laughter.
“There’s one more thing,” he adds, waiting for quiet. “An anonymous donor contributed fifteen-thousand dollars this week. No recognition requested.”
The room gasps as whispers mingle.
“There were only initials provided,” Jacob says, smiling. “So to whomever E.H. is, thank you.”
The letters land like ice stabbing down my spine.
As the room keeps clapping, I feel it all from far away as if I’m sinking underwater. Fifteen thousand dollars. Initials E.H. My hands go cold as my body goes numb.
Jett notices my shift in demeanor immediately, and I see his back stiffen.Is he putting the pieces of the puzzle together too?
He moves his chair closer as he finds my hands gripped in fists beneath the table. “Wren,” he murmurs, thumb brushing the back of my hand. “What’s the matter, baby?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Your body says otherwise.”
I force air into my lungs, arranging my face into something I hope passes for normal. “Just— I’m shocked at the amount. That’s a lot of new equipment.”
His gaze lingers, searching for any tells. He can see the cracks in my armor, the lies leaving my lips, but he doesn’t push, which I’m thankful for. Jett squeezes my hand once, solid and sure, as the room comes back into focus.
Our plates are set in front of us as conversation fills the space where fear tries to settle. I laugh when I’m supposed to and tell myself the check was a coincidence. It has to be. Right? Elias wouldn’t spend fifteen-thousand dollars of his own money to prove a point… Would he? No, he’s always been too stingy with his money, only wanting to spend it when it benefited him or when he could ogle over his purchases.
As the last plate is cleared, Jett stands and offers me his hand. “Roulette?”
I let him pull me up, grateful for movement and distraction from anything that isn’t my own thoughts. Baker and his band take the stage as we move to the side room where the gambling tables are set up. The familiar cords of LoCash’s “I Love This Life” plays through the speakers.
The roulette table is crowded as fake chips clack like falling rain. I exchange a handful of coins for a stack of green and gold, feeling absurdly giddy. I’ve never been one to gamble. I didn’t see the point in risking hard-earned money for a chance to win more. But tonight, with fake currency, I’ve never been more eager to bet it all.
“Lucky number?” he asks.
“Four,” I say without thinking.
Jett grins before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to my temple. “For luck.”
Heat blooms where his mouth touches, and something in me loosens. I place my chips and the wheel spins. The ballclicks, clicks, clicks.
Four.
I laugh, loud and surprised, throwing my arms around his neck. “See?”
He laughs too, hands firm at my waist. “I’m never gambling without you again.”
We play a few rounds, trading small victories, stealing kisses that feel reckless and young…and exactly right. When we step away, my cheeks ache from smiling.
“You two make quite the couple.”
We stop at the voice, both of us turning on our heels.
“Principal Baldwin,” I greet with a warm smile.
He chuckles. “I’m retired now, Wren. I think you can call me Larry.”
