Hard Luck (The Vegas Obsession Series, #1) Read Online Free Page B

“Do you really think I should?”
    Monica nodded. “Yes. I don’t want you to wonder or have any regrets.”
    I grabbed her hand when we got to our cars, thankful for her support. Monica was right; I needed to give it an honest try.
    “Okay, as soon as I get a chance in the morning, I’ll go to him.”
    “Perfect!” Monica smiled. “Good luck, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    “Thanks hun!” I called, getting into my car.
    I slipped the lottery ticket into the glove compartment and gave it a good luck pat before starting the car. I couldn’t wait to talk to Mr. Barkley. I knew everything would work out. It had to. Chipper as ever, I pulled out of the parking lot and headed home, suddenly tired after a really long day. Monica and I worked the early shift.  With a start time of four in the morning, I already longed for comfy pajamas, a glass of wine and cheesy TV by two in the afternoon.
    When I pulled into the apartment parking lot, there were several cars I hadn’t seen before. Probably that apartment next door got rented. I hoped whoever eventually moved in there would be quiet. The walls between our units were paper thin.
    Within ten minutes of getting in, the place smelled heavenly. Popcorn was my thing. Wine and popcorn didn’t exactly go together, but I didn’t care. Soon, I was settled on the couch, feet kicked up and happily munching. I was pathetically happy as I took in the daytime dramas. Watching the soaps was another guilty pleasure. It was my way of shaking off the lethargy of my job. Heck, I could live vicariously through the Brittneys and the Sophias of daytime television, and I wasn’t afraid to admit it.
    After finishing my glass of wine, I set the alarm for eight at night so I could be up and ready for my favorite reality series. Sleep came easily, and in what felt like a few minutes, the buzz of the alarm clock rocked me out of my peaceful slumber.
    The show began with the two remaining women reminiscing over the time they had spent in the mansion. The show producers sent the two showgirls and the hot billionaire on a few tours of various Vegas landmarks, mixing up the two-hour finale to keep it interesting for viewers. Just as it was getting juicy, I heard loud music coming from the other side of the living room wall. Shitty. Loud neighbors. I turned up the volume, but the music seemed to get that much louder.
    “Are you serious?” I said to the wall, still unable to clearly hear what the two lucky finalists were saying.
    The music overpowered my show.
    “This is not on!” I shouted, getting up from my comfortable couch. It was time to make sure they got schooled. I stormed out of my apartment and beat on the door, still wearing my pajamas and probably with full blown bedhead. This wasn’t the best way to meet new neighbors, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be friendly with people so inconsiderate. I had to make a stand early on or the noise would never end. I didn’t want to be stuck listening to loud music every night.
    I banged on the door until it finally swung up. A girl in her late teens or early twenties stood before me. Her spiked hair, Goth clothing and black eye shadow were unexpected.
    “May I help you?” the girl asked.
    “I... I’m your neighbor,” I stammered, forgetting the rage I first felt, and pointing to my apartment door. “Look. Welcome to the building. I work some crazy early shifts and I would appreciate it if you would keep your music down.”
    I could see the people behind the girl. They were drinking and having a wonderful time, throwing a housewarming party, no doubt. I looked back to the girl and only saw a blank stare.
    “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” The Goth girl laughed and started to close the door.
    I reached up and pushed on it to stop it from closing.  I was tired of being overlooked.
    “This building has always been quiet. We’re not used to the noise or disruptive behavior.”
    The girl stared at me. “Look, ma’am, we’re