Page 28 of Sexy

“Ummm…” Fletcher looks at me and for a second I think he might actually tell her where he was. “I didn’t get the message.”

“You lying piece of shit. I was watching the girl at the front desk when she called up to your room after I waited around for an hour to see if you’d show your pathetic face.”

“Look, ah—” Fletcher stops short, like he’s about to say her name but he doesn’t remember it.

“Lisa,” she spits out. “Lisa! How could you not remember me? You fucked me—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Cole interjects, standing up from his chair. “Miss… Lisa?” He drops his voice and hopes she will do the same. “Is there a problem here?”

But Lisa doesn’t answer him. She slaps Fletcher across the face so hard it makes a crack. And even though there are probably fifty people in this bar, it goes silent and everyone looks at us.

Fletcher doesn’t even flinch. He just stares at me.

“Lisa Watkins. That’s who I am. One of Novak’s many, many, many one-night stands. And who might you be?” Her words snap out of her mouth, and Cole actually withdraws a fraction, thinking she might slap him next.

“I’m the general manager of this hotel, Miss Watkins. And if you’ve got a problem with one of our employees, then you can talk to me about it. But you may not assault him. We can talk privately if you like.” Cole reaches for Lisa’s arm, but she sidesteps him and puts her hands on her hips.

“I’m not going anywhere. And neither are they.” She points to a group of girls standing off to the right with the same pissed-off expression on their faces.

“Oh, fuck,” Fletcher mumbles under his breath.

“Do you know them?” Cole asks Fletcher.

“Know them!” Irate Lisa exclaims. “He’s fucked them all too! He’s nothing but a man whore, Mr. General Manager. And he’s your employee. And I’m gonna make sure everyone knows that this show is—”

“OK,” I say, standing up and interrupting her. “Miss Watkins, I’m Tiffy Preston, the owner”—which is not really a lie—“of this hotel. And I’m going to have to ask you to come make your complaints in private. We’re not going to have a scene here in the restaurant. You’re not going to assault my employee. And if you try either of those things again, I’ll call the police and have security hold you until they come.”

She takes a deep breath and then her anger gives way to frustration and what might be shame. “He used us, Miss Preston. He used us like—”

“I understand,” I say, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a push towards the casino. “Let’s talk about it in my office, OK? And then you can tell me everything in private.”

Cole buttons his suit coat. “I’ll come with you, if that’s OK.”

Lisa Watkins sniffles, and gives him a nod. “But we all have to come, Miss Preston. He did this to all of us.”

I motion to the girls off to the side. “You’re all welcome to come.” I smile sweetly at Lisa and then she turns and begins to walk out of the restaurant. Cole follows her and I steal one quick glance at Fletcher.

He doesn’t say anything. Not a shake of his head like they are lying. Not a word to defend himself. He just stands there and frowns. Looking very, very guilty.

I walk behind Cole and the group of girls as we make our way to the elevator that services the offices on the third floor of the East Tower. I think about Fletcher and what an asshole he must be to have slept with all those women. He probably left them the same note he left me this morning. And I can see how hurt a young woman might be if she had hoped for something more than just hot sex. Lord knows I’m thankful that I’m not even remotely interested in him. I mean, he has slut written all over him. I knew that going in.

But some of these girls look very young. Especially Miss Watkins. Twenty-one? Maybe twenty-two? And Fletcher is pushing thirty. He’s got some experience and years behind him. Me as well. I’m no doe-eyed college girl.

It’s sad really. That he feels the need to pump himself up with these young women. Use them to make himself feel better just because he can.

But on the other hand, he’s a male stripper, for Pete’s sake. How dumb can these girls be? He’s only good for a one-night stand to begin with.

When we get upstairs to the reception area I wave them all into a conference room just as Cole’s phone rings. He checks the screen, and then looks at me and winces. “It’s your father. I have to take this.”

“I can handle it. But Cole,” I say, grabbing his arm real fast before he leaves. “Don’t mention this to him. He doesn’t need this on his plate too.”

“Got it, Tiffy. I’ll leave it to you.”

“Thanks.” I take a deep breath as he answers his phone and walks off. And then I plant a smile on my face, enter the room, and close the door.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Two hours later the last girl is just finishing up. It’s been two hours of hell with the We hate Fletcher Novak Support Group of South Tahoe. Two hours of crying and threats to castrate my star stripper. Two hours of swearing and anger. Two hours of what-are-you-gonna-do-about-this.