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And that was when I ran face first into Kiki.
“Um, excuse me!”
I spluttered, taking two steps back. I’d run straight into her, upsetting her tray of watered-down cocktails all over my suit and the casino floor.
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry—”
“You have to watch where you’re going.”
“I know, I know,” I said, taking a handkerchief from my pocket and dabbing it across the front of my cashmere lapels.
Finally, the frenzy of the moment subsided, and I was able to get a good look at her.
She was tired, that was obvious. She had rings under her eyes and her hair was frizzy, the curls licking up in little mini riots. She was also, clearly, not pleased to be seeing me.
“Did you do that on purpose?” she asked.
“Spill your drinks? Hardly.”
She rolled her eyes. “So, in this entire casino, you just happened to run right into me, is that what you’re saying?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm.” She wasn’t believing my story.
I sighed. She’d already made up her mind. I took the rag from her waistband, my hand brushing against the very outer reaches of her hip bone, and knelt to the ground.
“What are you doing?” she asked, incredulous of my ministrations.
“What’s it look like? I’m cleaning up the mess I made.”
“That’s my job.”
“Sure, but it’s my fault,” I replied, and I hoped she understood that when I said ‘my fault,’ I meant more than just the drinks.
She softened a little at this, and added, “I’m surprised you know how to scrub.”
“I’m rich, Kiki, not a moron.”
In spite of herself, she let out a laugh, which she quickly tried to stifle.
At last satisfied with my handiwork, I stood up, dusted off my pants and tucked the rag back into her waistband. Her eyes danced across my face, her expression angry but not flamingly so — not the way it’d been last night, when I thought she might deck me just for the hell of it.
“Kiki, let me explain.”
I waited for an objection, but she stayed silent. That was a good sign.
“Last night, with the escort… that’s not me. Those guys—”
“Your friends.”
“No, not my friends. My — this isn’t going to make me look great, but whatever — they’re my entourage. I don’t like them, they don’t much like me. But when I go out in public, which I’m expected to for the sake of the casino, I have to travel in a group. It makes Dazzlers look better in whatever paparazzi photos get taken, because it creates the illusion that I’m this like Bacchanalian party spirit. It’s stupid, I’m well-aware.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Why not just go out with your real friends?”
I looked away, clenching my teeth and hoping my pain wasn’t written across my face.
“I don’t… I have a hard time letting people in,” I admitted. “But anyways, they’re the kinds of men who hire escorts. Not me. It wasn’t my idea, and I never slept with her, or any other escort. Last night, or any other night.”
Kiki mulled this over, inspecting my face like she were visually probing it for lies. Apparently, I held up under the microscope, because she replied, “So you didn’t hire her.”
“No! Of course not. Sex isn’t good if you pay for it.”
A shadow passed over Kiki. She visibly darkened, her eyes casting downward to the floor. Was it me?
“I’m sorry,” I followed up immediately. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No… no, it’s nothing.” She straightened up, shaking the cloud from her demeanor. “All right, Tate, I think I believe you.”
“Good, because it’s the truth.”
“But I still don’t trust you. Guys like you, rich guys who’ve been handed everything, you just don’t know what the real world is. You come from a place where you need entourages and brands and you hire escorts just because.”
“Wait—”
“Your friends hire them, okay. All I’m saying is, fine, I forgive you for the escort, but we don’t have jack shit else in common.”
“That’s not true,” I countered. “I think we were getting along rather well before that slip up, don’t you?”
She ran a hand down her exposed arm. “Well, yeah.”
“Even though I’m a rich asshole.”
“Right.”
“So, listen, I had a good night with you. If it’s not mutual, that’s okay, tell me to go fuck off and I’ll be out of here faster than the Road Runner. But if, despite everything, you enjoyed our time together, let me take you on a date, a real one. And not to be presumptuous, but you looked to me like you were having fun in the club.”
She furrowed a brow. “Yeah, after I got off the shift you made me do as punishment.”
“You did call me an evil prick,” I shrugged. “Can’t let my other employees see you getting away with that.”
“If we were to go on a date—”
“So that’s a yes?”
CHAPTER 13
Kiki
MAN, HE WAS smooth. Tate had moves, you gotta give him that much.
