A Bookie's Odds by Ursula Renee

seemed like a decent guy.”
    “You’re starting to sound like Daddy. I’ll save you the trouble.” She held up a finger. “William is easy on the eye.” She ticked off another finger. “He’s a lawyer.” A third finger went up. “The man is going places.” She slumped back in her chair and dropped her hands in her lap. “And he’s going to need a good woman by his side, so why shouldn’t that woman be me.”
    She had recited the list as if it had been repeated to her more than once. He would not have been surprised if her father had led the cheers. Not that he faulted the man. If he had a daughter, he’d try to steer her toward a successful man who had a bright future ahead of him.
    “What’s wrong?” Nicholas leaned forward and took her hand. “Talk to me.”
    “I don’t want to live Daddy’s dream—”
    “You want to live your own.”
    She slowly nodded her head, her eyes broadcasting her surprise.
    “I understand more than you realize.”
    “Then what can I do?”
    Nicholas shrugged his shoulders. He wished he had an answer for her.
    Aside from promising his wife that Celeste would marry a man with a legitimate career, his father had assured her Nicholas would earn an honest living. But, Nicholas was too strong-willed, and the man eventually had to accept that there was nothing he could do to about his son’s career choice.
    It had been easier for him to defy his father than it would be for her. The expectations were different for women than they were for men. It was unfair for her, as all Georgia was asking was the chance to use her brain. If it were in his power, he’d grant her wish.

Chapter 7
    “Admit it. I was right.”
    Georgia rolled her eyes as she leaned against the black painted railing on the stoop.
    Her father shook his finger at her. “I saw that, young lady.”
    “I hope so. I wasn’t trying to hide it,” she replied.
    “You need to watch yourself. You’re gettin’ too sassy.”
    “That’s ’cause you’re gettin’ smug.”
    “I have a right to be smug.” He pointed toward the street, where William played stick ball with the neighborhood boys. “I was right.”
    Her father leaned back on the stoop, resting his elbows on the step behind him. The position pushed his chest out, not that it needed extra help; his arrogance did a good job of inflating his chest.
    Georgia turned back to the street. Her father had predicted William would get along well with children. The younger man proved the older one right when he rolled up his sleeves and organized the game.
    For the past week it had been obvious the men were on a mission to prove William was the best catch out there. Her father would crow about a positive trait he was certain the younger man possessed. The next day, William would appear and prove the man correct. Yet, despite his positive qualities, Georgia was not attracted to him.
    She had told herself they were still getting to know each other and it was too early for feelings to have developed. But when they were apart she did not look forward to their next meeting.
    William whistled and waved the boys to the side as a car turned the corner. With the children out of harm’s way, the vehicle cruised past.
    Georgia’s father stood and folded his arms over his chest. He scowled as Earl Washington stuck a hand out the back passenger window, pointed at her father, and mimicked discharging a gun.
    The car continued to the corner, then turned. Once it was out of sight, the boys ran back into the center of the street and resumed their game.
    “What was that about?” she asked.
    Her father stared at the empty corner. “Nothing for you to worry about,” he muttered as he sat back down.
    The answer was far from satisfactory for Georgia. Despite her father’s attempt to be a role model for the younger man, Earl had decided he preferred the streets over an honest living. Besides working for the local ace, he sold drugs out of his apartment. It was rumored that he