Getting Lucky - Jennifer Lazaris Page 0,1

game?”

“Screw you, Red,” he slurred.

She glanced up at the Jumbotron during a replay of the backcheck that started the fight. They cut off the footage a few seconds after the brawl began, but not before she saw herself in the background getting crunched into the glass.

If it wasn’t for her flaming red hair, her humiliation wouldn’t have been obvious. Instead, she stuck out like a sore thumb on the big screen. The crowd gave a collective gasp at her misfortune, and a few of the hockey players looked over in her direction as they waited for the referees to sort out penalties.

Lovely.

Zoe clutched her sore shoulder, wincing as she watched two arena staff members lead the drunken fan up the concrete stairs to the nearest exit. She wouldn’t be surprised if he fell backwards and crushed them, too.

“Miss, let’s get you checked out, okay?” An usher stood next to her, gesturing to the arena stairs at the opposite end of her row.

Sighing, she picked up her purse and made her way past the row of fans and toward the waiting usher.

After getting laid off from her job earlier today, the last thing she wanted to do was go to a hockey game. She hadn’t been able to say no to her roommate, Leah, who had given her the tickets as a birthday gift.

Leah was crazy about hockey. Her dad was a season ticket holder in her hometown of Chicago, so Leah had spent much of her childhood going to hockey games. She’d insisted they go to tonight’s game to see the Kingsnakes play Chicago.

The problem was, Leah hadn’t bothered to show up for the game. And, the only thing Zoe had to show for attending was a massive welt on her arm.

This was a birthday she would remember for all the wrong reasons.

A first aid worker met her at the exit. He led her to a small booth, where he examined the nasty welt and handed her an ice pack.

“That’s going to bruise,” he said.

“Lucky me,” she muttered. Her cell phone beeped with a text.

Leah: Sorry, Zoe. Got stuck working a double shift. I needed the money too much to say no. Have to pay for those new shoes you borrowed today. Haha. Hope you’re having fun. Isn’t hockey so awesome?

Zoe sighed. Oh yes. Hockey was so awesome.

A horn blew, signaling the end of the game.

The first aid worker glanced at her shoulder again. “Want me to wrap it?”

Zoe shoved the phone back into her purse. “No. I’m leaving anyway.”

“Take the ice pack with you,” he said sternly.

Zoe grabbed her purse and headed for the closest exit. Time to drown her sorrows in alcohol. After this day, she deserved a few drinks.

The crowd spilled out of the Nevada Arena and down South Las Vegas Boulevard. Holding the pack to her sore arm, she dodged pedestrians and walked until she was far away from the busy Vegas Strip.

Zoe wished she’d have remembered to bring her jacket, but the plan had been dancing and drinking after the hockey game, and the last thing she wanted to do was carry it around in a club. The sleeveless top she wore wasn’t enough with the November temperatures hovering around the mid-fifties at night. She crossed her arms and kept walking.

Blocks away from the hustle and bustle of the Strip, she stopped in front of the Palisades Hotel and Casino. Hopefully, their bar wasn’t completely packed. Leah’s shoes pinched her feet, and she needed to take a load off.

She stepped inside, pausing to take in the bright, buzzy atmosphere.

The Palisades lobby boasted beautiful marble floors and an impossibly high, arched ceiling. Plush, white couches were scattered around the massive space. Blue and white lights illuminated the room, giving it an energetic vibe. The pinging sounds of slot machines echoed in the distance.

Her high-heels clicked loudly on the marble as she walked across the shiny floor. “Where’s your bar?” she asked a well-dressed man at the information desk.

The man looked up from his computer monitor. “Wow. What happened there?” He gestured to her shoulder.

“A drunk guy fell on me at the Kingsnakes game.”

He cocked his head. “That’s why you look familiar.”

“Familiar?” she asked, confused.

The man grinned at her, his blue eyes twinkling. “I saw you on the sports network highlights. You were behind the glass during the O’Bryan fight, right? I remember your red hair.”

She rubbed her forehead with her good arm. “Wonderful. Sir, can you point me in the direction of the bar? I need