Heavenstone 02 - Secret Whispers

look. “He lost a lot . . . you said a ‘disaster’ ?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s a painful lesson, and from now on he’ll be different.”
    “I hope so.”
    He smiled and nodded. “I have a daughter who should be about your age now,” he said.
    “Should be? Don’t you know if she is?”
    “Unfortunately, I haven’t seen her since she was two. My wife couldn’t tolerate this life.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry.”
    He shrugged. “I don’t blame her, but she moved as far away from me as she could. She lives in Tahiti and is remarried.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Whenever I see a pretty young woman like yourself, I think of my daughter. Being with you makes me feel as if I’m with her. I can imagine, at least. You understand?”
    “Yes,” I said. “You’ve been a blackjack dealer for a long time, then?”
    “A long time. It’s not so bad for me. I like to watch the people who gamble. Some say prayers. Some have good-luck charms, and some have their own mathematical methods. Too many think they’ll find some answer, some happiness, something to fill a hole in their lives, if they win big. And then there are those who are, like your husband, I imagine,caught up in the excitement. Don’t tell anyone I told you, but it’s a dangerous place.”
    “Yes, it is,” I said. “And beautiful, too. I read about the architecture.”
    “Beauty without innocence is dangerous too often. You understand?”
    “I think so.”
    “You’re young. Even if you don’t understand now, you will.”
    I put down my silverware and looked at my watch. “I’d better get back up to our suite and get my husband moving.”
    “Yes, good luck with that,” he said. “Try to get to Italy. There’s good shopping. I get most of my clothes and shoes there.”
    “I will.”
    I looked for the waitress.
    “Oh, please. Let me pay the bill,” he said. “You’ve given me great pleasure, and besides, let a casino employee pick up a tab now. That’s only, how do you say, poetic justice?”
    “Merci.” I stood up but paused. “Don’t you ever write or try to call your daughter?”
    “I used to, but my angry ex-wife is not . . . how should I put it? Cooperative. This,” he added, “is my hole in my life, but I don’t fill it with false hope.”
    “Keep trying,” I said. “I’m sure she’s worth the effort. Au revoir .”
    He smiled. “Au revoir.”
    As I walked away, I thought to myself that I hadn’t just met Henri Beaumont by accident. Cassie had sent him my way.
    She was afraid that after marrying Ethan, I would stop thinking about my daughter.
    Even here, thousands of miles from her grave, she was beside me. I was, after all, her resurrection, the only way she could come back to life.
    Shutting her out would be like killing her again.

A Visit
    E THAN SLEPT AWAY the entire morning. I sat in the suite’s living room and watched some television, bitterly thinking that this was some way to spend a honeymoon. Finally, he rose, apologized, and went to take a shower. When he dressed and came out, he saw I was still angry, and he kept apologizing.
    “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. He got on his knees and kissed my hand, begging forgiveness. “I’m such an idiot. Here,” he said, handing me a flower from the vase on the table. “Give me twenty lashes.”
    I couldn’t help but finally laugh. What else could I do but forgive him?
    “Good,” he said, leaping to his feet. “Let’s go somewhere beautiful and have lunch.”
    “What about a car?”
    “Lucille’s travel agent made all the arrangements. We should have had a car delivered by now. The desk will have the keys.”
    He was right. The car was waiting. I wanted to say that someday we’d have to do everything for ourselves and not depend on Lucille, but I was afraid toadd any unpleasant thoughts or tone now. We would finally have a real honeymoon.
    At lunch, I told him about the Frenchman I had met at the casino and at breakfast, Henri Beaumont. He didn’t seem to think much of it and didn’t pick up on anything when I talked about Beaumont missing his daughter.
    “He called it the hole in his life.”
    “Don’t worry. That won’t happen to us,” Ethan promised. “In fact, in fifty years, we’ll return to Monaco to celebrate a golden anniversary.”
    “But you won’t go to the casino.”
    “No,” he said. He raised his hand. “I’m cured. The only thing I’ll gamble on from here on is the weather.”
    We had