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I take the same seat at the bar that I sat in yesterday; it’s the best vantage point for seeing the entire room, and I like knowing what’s going on around me. The bartender gives me a short nod, acknowledging my presence before going back to pouring drinks for the group seated directly in front of him. I liked Tina, but I’m relieved that she isn’t here tonight. Being propositioned by her once was enough.

Lawrence struts out of the kitchen wearing the same smug smile on his florid face as he approaches a tall, slender redhead, dressed in a waitress uniform, standing at the end of the bar with an empty tray in her hand. The look of disgust on her face as she watches him approach tells me everything I need to know.

“Excuse me,” I say, standing up and follow him down the length of the bar. He glances back at me briefly, before dismissing me and refocuses his attention on his target. Her red hair is pulled back in a severe bun. Her lips are pinched in a tight angry line, her eyes hard and glaring, never wavering from him. She may not need me to intervene, so I return to my seat, hoping that I’m about to see the pompous man knocked down a peg or two. The bartender comes over and instead of my usual bourbon I order a draft beer and sit down to watch what unfolds.

I don’t have to wait long.

Her sharp voice cuts through the crowded bar. “Keep your damn hands to yourself, Larry!”

From the opposite end of the bar I can see his ruddy face flush dark with anger. He leans in closer to her whispering something that only she can hear. She visibly recoils from his proximity to her and takes a small step back, putting space back between them.

I’m convinced she’s projecting her voice intentionally when it rings out over the noise in the lounge for a second time, “Not even in your wildest dreams, Larry,” I take it he doesn’t like to be called Larry, “You know full well I don’t play for your team and neither does my girlfriend, so quit asking!”

Larry takes a stumbling step backward, glancing around to see who has been listening. Newsflash! It’s everyone. Every single eye in the place is concentrated on him. The redhead smirks. She knows exactly what she’s done. Bravo!

Scowling he slaps a hand down on the bar top. “Mind your business,” he snaps loudly, spinning on his heel and hurrying away faster than I expected a man of his size to move.

“Nicely done, Heather,” the bartender hoots after all eyes have followed the irate manager back to his office, where he slams the door shut behind him. It’s good to see that he isn’t able to bully everyone.

The slim redhead lifts her clasped hands into the air and does a small victory dance, a bright smile wreathing her face. Applause starts with the other servers and is quickly taken up by the tipsy patrons. She makes an exaggerated curtsy before waving at the crowd and picking up a heavy tray of drinks. Laughing and responding to customers, she makes her way toward the gaming tables on the casino floor.

Sipping my beer, I smile into the frosty glass. Getting rid of Ellie’s tormentor is going to be a walk in the park. The guy seems to be universally hated by everyone on staff. Getting people to talk about what he’s been doing should be easy. When the bartender leans against the counter near me with a lift of his chin I grin.

“That was interesting,” I say. He nods, mulling over how he wants to respond.

“Just another day working with Larry,” I notice that he shortens the guy’s name in an irreverent tone as well.

“He seems like a real prick.” I encourage, wanting as much dirt as I can get.

“I’m just glad that I’m a dude ‘cause he leaves guys alone.” He quirks an eyebrow and motions toward my almost empty glass. “Want another?”

Tipping up the cold glass I swallow the last of the earthy brew before setting it back down in front of me. Maybe getting dirt on Larry is going to be harder than I thought.

“I’m good. Thanks.” I tell him, reaching for my wallet. Even though the bartender didn’t want to talk trash about his boss, which is a positive in my opinion, I’m feeling good about what I saw tonight. It should be easy enough to locate the encounter on the security tapes so I can show Xavier. If I can present enough evidence to Xavier with employee statements and what has been caught on the security cameras, I can at least make sure that he won’t be in a position of authority over anyone he can harass.

Chapter Eight

Ellie

I keep seeing him around Luminoso. Blake. I swear that he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in real life. Is it okay to call a man beautiful? I hope so, because there is no other word that does him justice… well maybe, perfection. I’m not the only one who notices him either. I’ve heard housekeepers and waitresses, and not just the women, talking about him.

Blake seems to be everywhere in the casino. I see him every day while I’m at work, busy looking into everything. I’ve seen him talking with Mr. Cerelli and Geno Rossi, the head of casino security, as well as with Travis. I’m not sure what they are doing, but they seem to be inspecting everything in the building.

I’ve seen Ana around, usually with Faye in tow, but always just in passing because I’m always in a hurry, trying to get my work done so that I can get home to help Mom with Auggie. He seems to be getting past the worst of the cold that turned him into a little monster who refused to do what he was told. Thank goodness. He was bratty enough to try the patience of a saint, and I’m definitely not one of those. I had to walk away more than once when his crabby attitude tempted me to swat his little diaper covered bottom.

I’m lost in my thoughts about Blake, which seems to be my new normal, when I push my cart of supplies from the service elevator. I’ve never been asked to clean this floor before. Probably because it’s one of the upper levels. Fancy suites and actual apartments occupy the higher levels in the building. Usually this floor is unoccupied or used for housing Mr. Cerelli’s personal guests. It’s where Faye and Travis are staying. Usually Ms. Smith does the required cleaning for this floor and the penthouse by herself, but she called out sick today. That was a little weird, she never misses work, but someone in charge decided that I could handle the responsibility, so here I am.

Unsure where to start, I go to the door of the honeymoon suite. That’s where Faye has been staying. It’s not really a suite. It’s a small apartment that is geared toward newlyweds who are staying for a while. It has a big fancy bathtub and a huge bed. At least that’s what I’ve heard. I reach up and knock loudly on the door to announce myself and the door is almost immediately yanked open by a grinning Faye.

“Hi, Ellie!” Her face is still battered, it hasn’t been nearly long enough for injuries like that to heal, but it is looking a tiny bit better now.

“Hey, Faye,” I return her smile awkwardly. Knowing what to say to people has never been something that I’m comfortable with, that was always Lizzie’s strength. Her people skills that made up for my tendency to be introverted since she always acted as a buffer between me and what, for me, were uncomfortable social situations.

“I was sent up to do the cleaning,” I tell her shyly, hoping to fill the gap in the silence.

“Oh, that’s great! I totally need something to do before I go crazy.” Her eyes sparkle in her bruised face. She means it. “Travis is off with the boys working on the security upgrade for Xavier and Travis insists that I need to be taking it easy I’ve mostly been sitting here by myself watching bad daytime TV. Ana has

been so busy with baby stuff since they found out she’s having twins that she hasn’t been able to hang out either.

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