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Chapter 15
Julia
Patrick set the guys up with a hotel suite at the Bellagio. I, however, was not taken into consideration when he made the reservation. It made sense, of course. It wasn’t like I was an official member of this team; just a tag-along.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Thatcher,” the lady at the front desk said, though she lacked any semblance of real empathy. The poor woman looked tired. Between the unbearable heat outside, the chilly A/C blasting non-stop inside, and wave after wave of customers trying to check in and out, the lady looked understandably exhausted. “There seems to have been some sort of mix-up with the booking website. It doesn’t look like we have a room available for you at the moment.”
“But the hotel sent an email to confirm,” I said. “And the invoice has already been sent and approved by my work.”
“Let me call the manager and see what we can do.”
Cash sidled up beside me and bumped his hip against mine. “What do you need your own room for? Just stay with us.” And then, a whisper in my ear, “You can share whichever bed you want.”
The receptionist raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I see.”
I frowned. “What do you see?”
“If this is a part of some sort of roleplay…”
“E-excuse me?”
The woman blanched, realizing her mistake. “My apologies. We get all sorts through here. I thought you were my six o’ clock check-in. They tipped me generously in advance and left very specific instructions for me to play up the… Actually, never mind. I was supposed to keep all that a secret.”
Cash was barely able to contain his laughter while my face flooded with heat.
“Give her a spare keycard to our room,” Cash said. “She’ll stay with us.”
“Of course, Mr. Mitchell.”
After she handed me my keycard, I scurried away, Cash in tow.
“That was embarrassing,” I mumbled. “Now all I can picture is that six o’ clock check-in wearing nothing but leather and using whips. She made it seem like it was a regular Tuesday.”
“I mean, it’s Vegas. I’m sure that poor woman’s seen a lot worse. Crazier things happen here on the Strip.” He wrapped his good arm around my waist as we headed toward the elevators. “Although, I honestly wouldn’t mind seeing you in a sexy leather getup.”
“Oh my God, not so loud!”
“Nobody’s paying attention, baby.” He kissed my cheek. “I was just teasing you.”
We met up with Dylan and Red by the elevators. While we were busy getting everything in order, they were busy unloading the RV. Their heavy duffle bags sat at their feet.
“I’ve made reservations for dinner,” Dylan said. “I figured you’d all be hungry after the drive. We can drop everything off in our room before heading back down.”
My stomach grumbled. “Brilliant idea.”
There was an air of excitement surrounding me as we rode the elevator up to our suite. We weren’t on the top floor, but we still had a wondrous view of the Strip. Las Vegas looked absolutely magical, what with all the lights and the sounds and the never-ending stream of people out on the sidewalks below.
The room itself was massive, with big windows and high ceilings. It felt like an executive suite, perfect for the traveling businessman and his party. The three rooms themselves lined the furthest wall. Dylan, Cash, and Red all moved to dump their things inside.
It occurred to me then as I set my small bag down on the floor that this was the first time I was finally alone with all three of them. I swallowed, the air suddenly incredibly dry. I had them all to myself and could hardly calm my rabbit heart.
“How fancy are we talking?” Cash asked Dylan.
“I mean, it’s the Mayfair Supperclub at the Bellagio.”
“That literally doesn’t answer my question.”
“Fancy enough that I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to walk in wearing gym shorts. Don’t you have a suit for press junkets?”
