“We’re not stalling, goddammit!”Dad snarled, making me flinch in surprise.He didn’t sound like himself.“What?Do they want us to leave ourselves wide open to scrutiny?Maybe we should invite the cops in to help us get the shipment processed and loaded up?Because that is what would happen if we move too fast and don’t think strategically.”
Few men could get away with laughing at my father and live to tell the tale.Nico was one of those men.“Strategically?Boss, no offense, but we’re moving women from point A to point B.How much strategy is really involved?”
There were times in a person’s life when good sense flew out the window.When something so shocking happened, they completely forgot themselves.Like in my case, where I should have backed away slowly and silently.
And instead, I gasped.Again.
And I knew I was fucked.
The sound of a glass being placed on a table sent me scurrying away from the door, backing up without looking where I was going.
By the time I backed up against the reception desk and rebounded off of it, the door had opened wider.Nico stood silhouetted in the light coming from the office.
Rather than leave the door open, he closed it behind him before moving toward me with almost superhuman speed.I had barely started moving before his hand circled my bicep, holding tight enough that his thumb and fingers almost touched.Snarling, he demanded, “What do you think you’re doing?”
I let the dress fall from my body after unzipping it, stepping out of the circle of fabric left behind, and crawling into bed.I had a lot of thinking to do, possibly a lot of planning.I needed a clear head, which meant trying to make up for the sleep I didn’t get last night.It wasn’t like I could figure things out when I was still battling a hangover, anyway.
The fact was, I wanted to forget if I could.Maybe once I fell asleep, I would have a good dream and be able to leave behind all of the horrible implications of what I’d witnessed and everything that happened afterward.It wasn’t enough that those girls were forced onto that van to be taken God only knew where.I wanted to deny that my father knew anything about it.This just wasn’t who he was.Notmy father.But would it be safe to bring it up to him?
Of course it would.He’s my father.A good man.
It was a relief when instead of Nico’s flat, cold eyes, it was a certain pair of green eyes flecked with gold that danced in my memory.I should have forced myself to think about anything else, anyone else, since those green orbs and that dangerous smile had convinced me to go completely against my nature out of some drunken belief that somehow, this man would protect me from the unknown.It was a sixth sense, something instinct compelled me to believe.Well, instinct and much more vodka than anyone should drink in one evening.
If only all of my problems were as inconsequential as a quick annulment.Vaughn Eastman had no idea what real problems were.
I drifted off to sleep with that thought ringing in my head.No matter how I looked at it or tried to deny it, the fact was I needed help.I had the feeling I needed it desperately, but an arrogant playboy like Vaughn Eastman would not be my salvation.Hell, he would only get me into deeper trouble than ever since there was a very real part of me wishing we had consummated our marriage so I’d at least have a pleasant memory to take from all of this.
Thinking back on his body and the way he made my blood hum, something told me it would have been incredible.
5
VAUGHN
Owning a casino should mean making decisions, not sitting through tedious meetings.That’s what I paid people for.As someone droned on about profit margins, I made a note on my phone.Hire someone to sit in meetings.
“Mr.Eastman?Is there a problem?”asked Eric Cunningham, one of the old-school managers around here.He and Dad were contemporaries, and I’d gotten a feeling more than once in the eighteen months since taking over ownership that he considered himself an extension of my father like he would keep the ship afloat in Dad’s honor.Hence, the paternal look of disapproval he was wearing.As if I couldn’t fire him in a heartbeat.
For the time being, I pasted on a smile.“Absolutely not, Eric.Why do you ask?”My smile widened, becoming more sincere when he returned his attention to the agenda, his face flushing.That’s right.Toss the ball back into his court, let him figure out what to do with it.He wanted to call me out in front of my employees?Fine by me.Two could play that game, motherfucker.
In other words, by the time my Wednesday morning meeting rolled around, I was in no fucking mood to sit around and review figures, stats, all of the cerebral shit I had never taken an interest in.One more thing Dad had never held back from criticizing.“This is the lifeblood of the business, son, and you can’t afford to ignore it.”Never mind the times I’d very astutely reminded him we had teams of people to handle things like that for us.He needed to have his finger in every pot.
The thing was, I understood the rationale behind that.I didn’t like leaving things up to others.There was no one I trusted more than myself.At the same time, wouldn’t my talents, time, and skill be better used elsewhere?Eric scheduled these weekly meetings because things had always been done that way.Forget the fact that Zoom existed, email, text messages, Slack chats.
The meeting was almost over, anyway, with the handful of agenda items having already been covered.“Thank you all for your time,” I announced before standing and leaving another note for myself in my phone.Review current policy regarding meetings.It was time to become a little more efficient around here.We all had better things to do than eating a continental breakfast while reviewing spreadsheets.
Rather than return to my office down the hall, I instead turned to the elevator.Sitting behind my desk wouldn’t do me any favors, not the way I was feeling—out of sorts like an animal pacing in a cage.I was no good at sitting at the end of a conference table.That wasn’t where my strengths resided.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing to me a veritable playground.Bells chimed, music played, coins dropped into metal trays mounted to vintage slot machines.People flocked to those machines every day, some of them practically camping out with false hope and a glazed look in their eyes.There was no art to what they did, no strategy necessary.They simply inserted their card or cash and pulled the lever over and over for hours on end, rarely looking away from the machine in front of them.How they did it, I would never understand, but then I didn’t need to.My job was to make them comfortable, to keep them hydrated, and to make sure they knew they would be welcomed back.
I observed them from a distance, walking through the section devoted to the enormous, old-fashioned machines.The other side of the floor held newer models—touchscreens—but I never felt the same rush of warm nostalgia for them as I did for the one-armed bandits currently in use by countless visitors.Every pull of those arms represented more money in my pockets.There was something satisfying about it that simply could not be achieved by tapping a screen, nor was it nearly as rewarding to receive a printed voucher after a win.I had grown up hearing the rush of coins, the musical sound of them clinking together.That meant something.It represented a jackpot, and who didn’t want to hit the big jackpot?
I was starting to sound like Eric Cunningham—stuck in the past.There was nothing wrong with walking the line between appreciating what worked and wanting to abandon what was no longer necessary.
It had to do with understanding human nature, as well.Sitting in long meetings was demoralizing and bad for productivity.Keeping the old-fashioned machines on the casino floor meant acknowledging nostalgia, understanding the psychology behind what made the process satisfying.It was one of the things Dad and I had been able to agree on—one of the few things toward the end.
“Mr.Eastman.”A blonde waitress in a short skirt offered a smile that was a little more than friendly as she passed with a tray of drinks.I was roughly half a second from turning my head to check out her ass before I remembered who I was and why it was probably not a good idea to openly ogle my employees, no matter how cute and flirtatious they were or how nice they were to look at.My role no longer allowed for a little innocent fun.Considering the boring morning I’d suffered through, though, I deserved a little fun.
It didn’t help that I hadn’t been able to get in touch with my so-called wife since we parted ways on Sunday morning.The longer it took for her to get back to me, the more convinced I was there was something wrong with the whole situation.There had to be.No way would she drag her feet on making arrangements for the annulment unless she had no intention of granting it.I didn’t want to believe people resorted to such pathetic, childish tactics in this day and age, especially since her father was supposed to be a tough guy, slick, probably dangerous.Somebody it would be best not to cross for any reason.The more I dug into his background while reflecting on the stories I’d overheard in the past, the greater my hurry to untangle myself from his daughter.
