Page 63 of My Fallen Saint

Chapter Nineteen

Iwent to Vegas once with Brandy right after college. We stayed at one of the cheaper casinos on the strip. We gambled, drank, pigged out at the buffet, watched a few shows—and never even left the casino. As far as hotels went, it felt like somebody had given a chain motel a shot of adrenaline. There were no luxuries other than watered-down drinks served for free if you sat at a table or slot machine long enough. And, of course, non-branded shampoo and soap in the room.

I managed to return home with a total of ten dollars more than I’d come with, not counting the cost of my share of the room. At the time, I considered that a win. I’d also thought the casino was pretty damn impressive.

Clearly, I was young and naive.

The Phoenix is located on the famous Las Vegas Strip, but Devlin tells me that it’s at one of the newer ends and intentionally set off from most of the traffic.

“We want to draw tourists, but this place serves a dual purpose, so having a slightly smaller crowd is acceptable as long as we’re ultimately making enough to cover costs of the hotel and casino, as well as rehab and education.”

“Rehab and education?” I ask as the driver turns into a long driveway leading to a huge, elegant building featuring a large center space with two tall towers on either side and a shorter one in the back. He continues on, then pulls to a stop under the porte-cochere.

“I’ll explain in a minute,” Devlin says as the valet opens the door and offers me a hand. Devlin follows me out, then ushers me inside. And that’s when I realize we are definitely not in Kansas—or on the other end of the Strip—anymore.

The place is gorgeous. Decorated in a contemporary style, it’s all sleek lines and beautiful, functional art, like the light fixtures that fill the main room with a warm glow, the steel and leather furniture in the reception area, and the brass and glass bar in the far corner that seems to act as a gateway to a casino beyond.

“The casino is in this section,” Devlin says. “And the towers are for hotel guests. We’ll be staying in one of the suites.”

We?

He’d said I’d have my own room, but I don’t question him on it. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but my words to Brandy are still at the forefront of my mind. Closure.

And despite being shut down on the plane, I’m still all about that plan.

“—and education center.”

I look up, frowning. “Sorry. Could you say that again?”

“I said that there’s a corridor at the back of the retail space that leads to the third tower, albeit a significantly shorter one. That’s where the foundation’s local office is located. It’s also where we house rescued women and children while they undergo rehab, education, and job-training.”

“That’s incredible,” I say. “How many people?”

“Maximum capacity is just shy of five-hundred. We’re at about fifty-percent occupancy right now.”

I nod, my throat feeling a bit thick as I realize that means there are about two-hundred and fifty women and kids living in that hotel right now who’ve been victims of human trafficking.

“You’re doing incredible work here.”

“I know,” he says, with more than a little pride in his voice. He’s looking straight into my eyes when he adds, “It means a lot that you think so.”

I swallow, and for a moment we just stand like that. No tension. No fear. No loss. It feels like it used to, and my heart skitters with the knowledge that maybe some part of what we had isn’t dead. Maybe we’ll never get it back again, but at least it hasn’t blown away like ashes in the wind.

Then in a poof it all disappears when a woman’s voice calls out, “Devlin.” I look up in response to see Anna striding toward us, her heels clicking on the polished floor.

“Anna?” His brow furrows.

“I have you set up in the Dean Martin suite with Ms. Holmes across the hall in Sinatra.”

“Tamra was supposed to be on-site this trip. And she had me set up in the Sammy Davis suite. I understood it was available.”

“She had to deal with a conflict. I offered to be on-site.”

I see Devlin’s brow furrow. “Did she say what conflict?”

She shakes her head. “No, just that it was one of our international partners, and that she’d call you later. I did mention the room change to Ms. Danvers,” Anna continues. “I thought this arrangement would better suit Ms. Holmes. And ensure that we won’t disturb her when we have our meetings.”

She flashes me a quick, thin smile. Perfectly polite, and yet something hot and angry coils inside me. Something a lot like jealousy. Which is ridiculous, as I have no claim on this man.