The Billionaire's Bet, Page 2

  I made a non-committal noise as I patted him on his chest and rolled off him. I didn't look at him as he squeezed off the condom and dropped it into the wastebasket next to the bed. A moment later, he rolled up onto his elbows, flicked on the TV, and grabbed a cigarette from the pack he kept on the bedside table.

  Once the television came on, I climbed off the bed and picked up my clothes from where I'd left them on the nearby chair. I carried them into the bathroom and turned on the shower. No matter how often I wanted to linger in the luxury, I never did. I just needed to clean up so that I didn't smell like sex when I left.

  One of the things that made this arrangement between us work was that Sinclair and I both agreed on the boundaries. The most important was that this and my daughter never connected. Sinclair made payments directly to my landlord and to the school, but he did it in some way that kept things under wraps.

  I was running through all the things I needed to do today when I got out of the shower and started drying off. Before I finished, Sinclair called to me from the bedroom.

  “Your phone's ringing.”

  I wrapped the towel around me even as I walked out. I always answered my phone when it rang, just in case it was something to do with Mikala. This time, however, it was my boss' name on the caller ID.

  “Hey, Earl,” I answered, stepping back into the bathroom, and closing the door behind me. I put the phone on speaker and set it on the counter as I got dressed. “What's up?”

  “Hey, honey! I've got a job for you,” he practically shouted through the speakers. “There's a couple high rollers at the Aladdin. I heard from a little birdie that they're not very happy there, and I think if you go now, they could be persuaded to come to our casino instead.”

  I worked as a hostess at one of the higher end casinos, but because it was Vegas, there were lots of high-end casinos in town. People often didn't realize the kind of underhanded dealings that went on in those kinds of establishments. Not shit like prostitution or drugs. Everyone knew about those. I’m talking about headhunting wealthy patrons with the hopes of turning them into repeat customers. Free rooms, comped drinks...all sorts of incentives were offered.

  But headhunting new customers wasn't usually part of my job.

  “Did something happen to Isa?” I asked.

  I was already shoving all my things into my tote when I stopped. My hair and makeup needed a little more attention before I was ready for something that important. This could be my big chance and I didn't want to screw it up.

  “She's sick today,” Earl explained. “Poor thing. Some sort of stomach bug or lady problem or whatever. Anyway, I know that you've had an eye on her job when she retires later this year. I thought this would be a good opportunity to show me what you're made of. You think you can handle it?”

  “Absolutely!” I answered immediately, even though I wasn't terribly sure if that was the truth.

  Being a hostess involved schmoozing with the guests, making reservations, buying event tickets, and generally being their go-to for entertainment during their stay. The VP of Customer Relations – Isa's job – was similar in a lot of ways, but it was full-service. Greeting important guests at the airport, running sensitive errands...and sometimes stealing guests away from the competition.

  “Good,” said Earl. “I’ll text you their descriptions. Last seen at the high stakes poker tables.”

  “Uh-huh.” I applied a fresh coat of lip gloss, then moved on to a faint coating of eyeshadow. It brightened up my whole face, bringing out the cerulean blue of my eyes. I always had to be careful what make-up I used. My complexion was fair, my hair the sort of strawberry blonde that would clash with certain colors.

  “And Briana,” Earl drawled, “don't screw this up. I'm making my decision for the VP job in the next couple of weeks, so Isa has time to train her replacement. You're my favorite for it now, but only because I think you'd be great at the job. If you can't, my next best choice is Angelica.”

  No. Pressure.

  And hell no. I'd be damned before I let Angelica Hawkins take my promotion from me. The VP job was mine. Once I had it, I'd be able to end things with Sinclair and focus all my time on my little girl.

  “I won't let you down.”

  I hung up the phone and finished freshening up when the text came up on my phone. Not much of a description but it would do. After applying more mascara and making the best of my hair's rumpled appearance, I stepped back into the room.

  “You look good,” Sinclair said as he gave me a quick glance. “Where are you off to?”

  “Something for work,” I explained.

  His smile was kind but didn't have the warmth a person might expect from two people who'd been sharing a bed for as long as we had. Still, I appreciated what he said next. “Knock 'em dead.”

  I smiled back. “I will, thanks.”

  I left the room and hustled down the hallway as quickly as possible, while texting Elroy telling him that I’d pick up Mikala tomorrow morning instead of in a couple hours. I had no idea how long this thing was going to take. He offered some short, clearly irritated reply, but I didn't take the bait. I wanted – no, needed – to believe he loved her, but he sometimes did a damn poor job of showing it.

  Okay, most of the time. He was never mean toward her, but indifference was often just as bad.

  But now wasn't the time to be angry or consider the sixteen thousand ways in which I’d fucked up my life. Now was the time to put on my biggest smile and my best foot forward. I had no idea what to expect from these two high rollers, but I needed to charm them over to my side. No matter what. My career rested on this. My independence from men rested on this.

  Everything I knew and held dear rested on this opportunity.

  I couldn't fuck it up.

  3

  Dorian

  I never tired of the constant jingling and trilling of a casino floor. I never played slots, but I considered them to be an infinitely important part of the casino experience. Partially because of the sound, but also because there was something about hiding among a forest of metal boxes that made casinos a little more mysterious.

  Not that I was one in the trees at present. The high rollers craps room didn't have any slot machines in it. All it contained were a couple tables, a ton of waitresses, and a bunch of men and women dressed to the nines. I loved this part of the casino. The exclusivity, the knowledge that all among us had two things in common: wealth and power.

  Well, not all of us. The brunette at my side, though beautiful, had neither of the other two things in spades. She was a clever enough girl, but that wasn't why I had hired her. She was here for the way she looked. Period. And she was fine with it, thoroughly enjoying the attention.

  My brother, however, wasn't having as nice of a time. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He glared at the dealer. “You won't let me place a higher bet?”

  The pit manager, a stout man in his forties, smiled apologetically. “The table limit is fifty thousand, I'm afraid.”

  “Then point me in the direction of a table with a higher limit!” Enzo demanded.

  He'd spent the past couple hours winning big, and now he had over a quarter of a million, which I could see he was itching to put all in on a single bet. Enzo liked to win, and he liked to win big. And if he lost big while he was at it? Well, then he'd just treat himself to enough revelry that he'd forget he ever lost in the first place.

  But it seemed the Aladdin Casino was not on board with his philosophy.

  “There are no tables with higher limits,” the manager replied. “I can call the owner–”

  “Why don't you do that. And while you're at it, get me another drink.”

  I mentally cringed. I loved my brother, but he had a bad habit of getting obnoxious when he was on one of these power trips. He'd find a way to get what he wanted. He always did.

  Dawn, his date for the evening, was a seasoned pro. She didn't so much as bat an eyelash at Enzo's abominable behavior. Instead, the cute
blonde started whispering things in his ear. I watched his face change from irritated to pleased so quickly I had to wonder what the hell she said to him, and if it was something I'd be able to use in the future. Given the way he was licking his lips, I was pretty sure it was the type of comment that only worked when coming from someone with double-X chromosomes.

  The brunette by my side, Gillian, tried to start a conversation with me in the dealer's absence. “How long will you boys be in Vegas?”

  Her voice was smooth, like honeyed butter, and I knew she'd probably spent a lot of time perfecting it so that it dripped sex appeal. But I wasn't interested in chatting. I thought I'd made that clear before, but I was sure she'd figure it out. If she didn't, neither my brother nor I would be using that particular service again. We paid to get what we wanted, and if a service couldn't satisfy our desires, we'd take our business elsewhere.

  “Not long,” I replied shortly, pulling out my phone to check if I had any important messages. I might not be as much of a workaholic as my oldest brother, Nicolas, but I took my responsibilities seriously, even if this was supposed to be a vacation.

  The pit manager came back a moment later, jaw tight. “I spoke with the owner. Unfortunately, Mr. Germaine has chosen to decline your request.”

  Enzo scowled at the manager, then began looking around, a familiar expression on his face.

  Dammit. He was about to start his usual shit. For being a middle child, he certainly acted like a spoiled youngest sometimes.

  “Where the fuck is my drink?” he asked. When no one immediately answered, he shoved off his chair. “Do I have to do everything myself?”

  He took off for the bar, Dawn trailing behind him. I sighed and clasped Gillian's hand, following my angry brother. When he got like this, there was no telling what he might do. Half the time, I thought my real job in the family business was babysitting Enzo, keeping him from doing anything that reflected badly on us.

  “Cristal,” Enzo barked at the bartender. “The bottle.”

  The bartender grabbed a bottle of the expensive champagne and put four glasses up on the bar top. Then he made a huge mistake by telling Enzo how much he owed.

  “It's not complimentary?” My brother's eyes were glinting with the sort of emotion that put me on edge. “What kind of fucking service is this? You won't let me try to make any money, but you expect me to spend all the money I have earned on champagne?”

  “I have a nice Prosecco that's complimentary,” the bartender offered.

  “Prosecco?” Enzo practically shouted. “What the hell do you think I want a drink for? That's a dessert wine, you hack! Did you even go to bartending school?”

  I sighed. When he got his temper up like this, he'd go after anyone and everyone who even looked at him cross-eyed. He'd gain momentum, and there'd be no stopping him until he ran out of steam. Once, Nicolas and I decided to just sit back and watch. Enzo had gone on for nearly two hours before we stepped in or we’d been forced to watch him get his ass handed to him.

  Ever since then, I tried to head things off before they got too far.

  I put a hand on Enzo's shoulder and stepped up in front of him to speak to the bartender myself. “Two bottles of Cristal, please. You can put it on our room tab.”

  I grabbed the bottles the bartender held out and handed them off to the girls. They followed as I led Enzo over to a quieter corner of the room. If I could get him to vent to us, let Dawn soothe his pride a bit, we could get back to doing what we'd come here to do. Enzo might've come as much for the escorts as the gambling, but I was more about the game.

  “Can you believe them?” Enzo seethed.

  I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Enzo, what's the point of getting all riled up like that, huh?”

  “It's the only way we'll get anything around here,” he muttered. “Bunch of fucking idiots.”

  I didn't believe in stereotypes, but even I had to admit that when it came to Italians with bad tempers, my brother could've been the poster child.

  “Come on, Enzo. If you get belligerent, do you think we're going to have a good night?” I asked, using my most reasonable voice. “Or do you think we'll end up kicked out of the casino and even more pissed off?”

  “They wouldn't dare.” His skin had taken on a red flush.

  “Just pull your shit together.” I was starting to get pissed off myself now, but I forced myself to stay in control. If I snapped at him, I'd only make matters worse.

  He took a deep breath, then another. The more he breathed, the more he calmed. I caught Dawn glancing my way, and I nodded at her. Leaning into him, she began to run her fingers up and down his arm. It was a soothing gesture as much as an erotic one, and I found myself idly wondering how often that was part of her job. As she began to flirt and tease Enzo into a better mood, I drank in silence and surveyed the room, considering our next move.

  That was when I saw her.

  She walked with such surety and purpose that I first thought she was some sort of higher management personnel sent to calm my brother down. But then I looked closer, and there was something not quite right about the way she looked around the room, like she was expecting to be kicked out at any moment.

  Something was going on.

  I took a step to the left of Gillian, like I was being physically pulled away. The stranger was beautiful. Strawberry blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders in messy, loose waves. Peaches and cream skin featured intelligent blue eyes that caught me even from across the room. She wore a simple pencil skirt and a black silk blouse, but the look made her somehow stand out. To me anyway. No one else seemed to notice her beyond a few lecherous men.

  She stopped in front of us, catching Enzo's attention. He turned and gave the newcomer a once over, smiling appreciatively. My hands curled into fists, and for the first time in my life, I found myself wanting to tell him to back off. He wouldn't make a move, not unless she was a pro, but that didn't make me like his appraisal.

  The woman looked at her watch as she spoke, “You have about ten seconds to get out of here before I call the floor manager and let him know there are two hookers cruising the High Rollers bar.”

  I blinked, surprised at her choice of words. Most casinos didn't have a problem when people like Enzo and I brought dates, even if it was the High Rollers room.

  “You don't want to be banned for good, do you?” She gave Dawn a hard look, then switched it to Gillian.

  “Bitch,” the brunette muttered as the pair left.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Enzo demanded as he watched his sure thing for the night storm off.

  The woman gave us both cool looks, her expression polite and professional. “My name is Briana Wheeler. You're Dorian and Lorenzo?”

  I nodded, still sensing that something was off. Nothing about her approach made any sense. Unless the Aladdin had issues with that particular escort agency.

  “I can't believe it.” Enzo shook his head with a growl. “This casino just gets worse and worse.”

  “Not having a good time?” Briana asked, glancing over her shoulder. Her smile never faltered.

  “We've had better,” I said, stopping Enzo's impending rant with a light touch to his shoulder. “What are you? Customer care?”

  She winked, a bit of teasing creeping into those amazing eyes of hers. “You could call me that. Hell, you could call me your fairy godmother if you'd like. The important thing is that I'm the one who's about to show you the best casino in Vegas.”

  4

  Briana

  Stealing guests from the competition was a risky business. I needed to get them off the casino's property before somebody important recognized me and realized what I was doing. If they did, it could mean trouble for the Rock Bay, which would mean trouble for my boss, and a helluva lot of trouble for me.

  And I doubted it would earn me that promotion.

  Discretion was bread and butter in this business.

  “Are you coming?” I asked, inclining my head towar
d the exit while hoping that neither man could see how nervous I was.

  Aside from the fact that my future pretty much depended on getting them out of here and over to my casino, these two were so clearly out of my league that just talking to them had my heart racing. I knew I was pretty, but these guys...they weren't just attractive. They clearly had money and the sort of breeding that said they'd always had it. I could tell why Earl wanted me to hook them.

  “Why would we come with you?” the shorter of the two asked, his mouth set in a belligerent line. “You've just ruined our night.”

  “In order to build something great, you have to first break down what was there before.” I was fairly sure I'd read that on a fortune cookie a couple weeks ago. “Like cleansing your palate. I promise that your night will only get better from here on out.”

  “Is that so?” The taller one spoke now, his voice caressing my skin in a way that made my body tingle. There was nothing suggestive about what he said, but the light in his gorgeous green eyes said that if I gave him an opening, he'd take it.

  It'd been a long time since I met a man who made me want to flirt for reasons other than my job.

  I curbed the impulse though.

  “It's a guarantee from my employer. Now, if you'll follow me.” I gestured toward the door and started off toward it.

  Thankfully, the two men fell into step behind me. Things would get much easier when we got out onto the main floor where it would be almost impossible to spot any one person in the hubbub. Once we got out of the casino, we'd be fine since I doubted anyone here would know who I worked for. Since I'd never been in this position before, no one would know to keep an eye out for me like they would have for Isa.

  As we neared the doors, however, someone called out behind us. “Don't go now! The table just got hot!”

  I suspected it was the dealer but didn't turn to see. If I did, the men would too. If I didn't, they might ignore it. With any luck, the dealer would think I was another pro like the girls I sent running.