Goodbye, Mr. Ex: I've Remarried Mr. Right by Czy Season

Debra met his gaze steadily. "I don't know how to control the dice."

She couldn't do it like others, rolling the exact number Drake wanted.

His eyes narrowed. "You don't know how, yet you asked me to take you here?"

"But even so, I can still make money," Debra countered. "Didn't I help you make some just now?"

Drake's frown deepened, but she pressed on. "Sure, I can't control the dice, but I know human nature. No one can win forever by betting all on small or big while doubling the stakes each time. Eventually, they'll lose. It's inevitable." "And you think that's some brilliant strategy?" he scoffed. "If that idiot down there had any clue what he was doing, do you think you'd have been able to take him for that much?"

Debra accepted his scolding without protest.

"If you can't handle being a dealer, then get out of here. Stop wasting my time," Drake snapped, turning to the manager. "Take her back."

"Yes, boss." The manager nodded and turned to Debra. "Ms. Frazier, please come with me."

Debra muttered reluctantly, "Just because I don't know how to roll dice doesn't mean I'm useless. You run legitimate businesses in public. I refuse to believe there's nothing else I could handle."

you'd better think carefully. In my world, there are only two kinds of jobs for women. Which do

line of business was either what she had just done or what those women had done at that

probably because all the women he had encountered could only

But Debra was undeterred.

or pianist. You name it,

black box admission into

you've

"You think that's impressive?"

my Master's degree in linguistics. That

a passing foreign guest. Without hesitation,

widened in

Drake for approval, but his

over to a piano and sat down to play Clair de Lune. The note was flawless, and

was

our weekend