Publication date: August 22nd 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
It was supposed to be fun times in Vegas with the girls.
Drinks, shows, maybe losing a little money, and okay…maybe a little action too.
I’m down for it all when I’m shocked to spot the hottest hotshot lawyer from my firm. Benjamin Barker.
In Vegas. At the same time.
My mind whirled with possibilities, none of them good.
All of them leading to trouble.
He’s not here for long. He’s got a big case – and that’s not the only thing that’s big about the man.
He’s got some investigating to do to make his case in court.
And I’ve got a crush on the man.
A crush on the man that ends with us in a suite called the Kingpin suite. This cannot be good.
But what woman would deny something that feels so very, very good?
I’ll tell you one thing.
I may cry later. I may regret it in the morning. I may want some “kingpin” to kill the bastard tomorrow. But right now, we’re in a suite. In Vegas. Together. In private.
And I’m all in.
The cab pulled to the front of The Queen’s Hand. A valet opened the trunk and pulled out the cases and loaded them onto a cart. With a wide smile, he wheeled them through the front door of the motel.
We stood and looked at the frontage. It was very-much understated because it was right onthe corner. The entrance sat under a golden-litcanopy with the words emblazoned like sequins. It looked amazing as each letter twinkled with silver, sparkling lights.
“I have to say. The service is excellent. How helpful theyall are,” I said as we walked toward the foyer.
Immediately, I saw that the inside was a little more glamorous, a blast from the past, in a way. White marble floors that were in layedwith smaller ebony colors at the corner of the floor tiles. The counter appeared to be real cream marble, and it had decorative circles embellished down the full length of it. I then looked up. The ceiling was covered in mirrors and lights.
We checked in and found out that we were, in fact, booked in on the second floor. The valet wheeled the cart to the elevator and smiled politely as he walked us to the room. He slid the key in the lock and pushed open the door.
Donna entered first, as usual, and it made sense because she’d always been the assertive one.Andthen, Michaela and I walked in after her. I was pleasantly surprised how clean and inviting it felt. The room looked lovely. Two, large, double beds (two of us were to share) and funky-colored, striped drapes. Apart from that, the furnishings looked top quality and were dark oak, mostly. Atop the drawers sat a large flat screen for the times when we weren’t lounging around by the pool.
The valet politely coughed. I sensed he was waiting for a tip. I reached intomy bag and pulled out ten dollars and slid it into the palm of his hand. He left.
“You tipped him?” Michaela asked.
“Of course. Statistics say that people in this line of work rely on…” I attempted to say.
“Of course they do,” Donna butted in, as she focused on looking out of the window.
Michaela started to strip. “I’m not sure about you two, but I’m going up to the roof pool to do a little evening swimming.”
Donna yelled with excitement. “I’m coming with you. Sienna, you gonna come, or what?”
“I’ll give it a miss. I’m going to have a walk around downstairs and check out the amenities.”
“Suit yourself, you know where we are.”
The door slammed as the two girls headed upstairs, nearly immediately. I changed into something a little more casual. I shoved twenty dollars into my pocket with the room keys, and then I headed back down to the ground floor.
I looked at the large notice board and read what was on offer. It was easy to see that for the hustle and bustleand free music, we’d definitely chosen the right place. Fremont Street staged the free Downtown Hoedownthis week, which might be fun.
I tilted my head back as I heard screams billowing in shrieks from the gaming room. It sounded as if someone just won a jackpot on one of the slot machines. I was tempted. My pocket had a twenty that itched to be changed and join in the fun. I liked gambling… in moderation.
I left the cashier window with a paper cup full of coins and strolled around the slots. By the time I’d reached halfway down the container,I thoughtI wouldn’t win.
Not the jackpot, although coins streamed out from the machine. I happily filled the cup, and then some. I headed back to the cashier’swindow and converted them all to chips. My twenty had now become fifty.
I walked around the tables. Poker —too hard. Craps —I really had no idea how to play. So, as if by magic, I found myself at the roulette table. I knew this was pretty simple. Pick a number and place your bets as the croupier called out each time he spun the wheel. I stuck to red and black —being an accountant I hedged my bets against losses, and slowly increased my pile of wonderful chips.
Suddenly, I felt that someone was watching me. I looked up and saw a familiar face. I kept my head bowed as I glanced from the corner of my eye. A little older than me, with short, dark hair. Piercing brown eyes. Where did I recognize himfrom?
Think, think. Oh… Shit. He’s coming this way.
The apartment building?
Oh boy! He’s coming to me.
I felt a warmth pursue my face. I kept my head tilted as the croupier slid another few chips in my direction.
Elevator. He’sthe guy who goes past floor two. It’s…it’s…floor four.
I recognized the guy. He lived in the same apartment building as me in New York. I noticed his face in the polished stainless steel of the elevator. He leaned on the rear wall and looked cool, calm and collected.
Tanby and Tanby. He worked at the same firm as me. The guy with the smoldering good looks and rugged, handsome features.
It’s…it’s… that hot shot lawyer. It’s Benjamin Barker. In my motel, in Vegas. At my roulette table. Walking toward me. Oh God!
He sidled up at the side of me.
He must’ve seen that I’d recognized him. Who wouldn’t recognizethe one and only Benjamin Barker? All the girls swooned in the office when he was around.I wondered why he was here. In Vegas, at the same time.
“Benj…” he started to say with a smile. I impolitely butted in. More from nerves than being ignorant.
“Sienna. We live in the same apartment, I’m floor two, and you’re… um,” I said.
I then mentioned we worked at the same firm (Tanby and Tanby) and he asked if I was a guest at the motel. He smelled divine. A mix of peppermint and strawberry that made my nose feel tickly.
He smiled. “Well! Isn’t that a coincidence?” he chortled.
Isn’t it just.
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