Chapter Eighteen
Ella
Lucy Phillips threw her cards out on the table and glared at Maisie. “Jesus f*****g Christ. Just when I think I have a good enough hand to beat you, you win anyway.”
Lucy brushed her blonde hair back from her face and snagged the bottle of wine in the middle of the table, quickly filling her glass to the brim and taking a gulp. I looked down at my hand, which had been decent. Meanwhile, Maisie shrugged and smiled slightly. “I love winning,” she said.
Lucy, whose attitude belied her almost fairy-like appearance with her blonde hair, blue eyes and petite frame, narrowed her eyes and shook her head slowly.
“I feel like I’m missing something here,” I interjected.
Amelia who sat beside me nudged me with her elbow and laughed. “Maisie usually wins. Despite his many fl
