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“I don’t know if I’ll be able to. He just put his chips in his safe.”
“Shit. Well, if he’s truly done for the night, then get him to talk to you about his winnings. Keep him chatting with you. When he’s telling you all the smart and lucky ways he was able to win, and how he made this bet or that bet right, he’s also convincing himself that he’s so good, he won’t lose. And he’ll want to gamble more tomorrow, with you. That’s what we need.”
Sailor knew the psychology of gamblers. It wasn’t Alessandra’s normal job, but she realized Sailor was right. Alessandra frowned into the phone, annoyed that it was now her responsibility to be sure Beau lost money tomorrow. “There’s a reason why you’re so good at this, Sailor… and why you normally have this job, and I don’t.”
“And there’s a reason I don’t have yours. But right now, we’re both focused on the same thing—making enough money this week to save both of our jobs.”
Beau saw Alessandra’s intense look on the phone. She didn’t look happy about the call with Sailor, but he didn’t know why. In his mind, the two of them had enjoyed the night, laughing nearly the whole time. Alessandra had seemed sincerely happy for him.
He had won over $600,000, and with the football games he bet on, his total winnings for the night were nearly one million. Sure, that wouldn’t make her happy business-wise, but casinos were used to winning some and losing some. There would be other, less successful gamblers who would certainly make up for whatever he’d won.
Hanging up, she joined him at the craps table.
“Everything okay?” he asked. “You look unhappy.”
“Absolutely. Everything is perfectly fine. It’s just that Sailor still isn’t feeling well. I suggested she go to the doctor.”
“So you’re worried about her?” Beau asked, suspecting there was more to her tone than just concern about Sailor’s flu.
“Yes, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about Sailor. She’ll recover.” She glanced around. “I saw you racked up. How about some blackjack to end the night?”
“No thanks. While you were talking to your new friend Kim, I lost and donated some back to the casino. You’re welcome, by the way,” he joked.
“Kim? I wouldn’t call her a new friend, not exactly anyway. She’s a new customer. While you were playing, I convinced her and Jon to spend the rest of their time at The Benson. You could say I stole them,” Alessandra added. Beau noticed the self-satisfied smile on her face.
“I guess you’re the tricky one. Pretending to be all friendly, just to steal them from another resort.” Beau put a friendly tone in his voice to hide his chagrin. What he’d believed earlier Alessandra might be doing was accurate. She was willing to act whatever part she needed in order to further the success of her resort. He suspected she was doing the same to him.
Alessandra smiled back. “Stealing high-stakes customers from another resort is way more fun than just having the customers come to us.” Beau wondered how he would ever know if she was being honest with him about actually liking his company.
“I’m glad it worked out for you. As for me, luckily, I was ahead by a lot initially. Because I crapped out twice in a row without ever hitting a point, it was time to quit rolling the dice.”
“Whatever you’d like to do,” Alessandra said. Was she trying to hide being bothered by Beau already winning a lot of money? “So how about that blackjack? I can set up with a private table now, if you’d like?”
“I’m done gambling for today.” He again wondered if Alessandra would be interested in him at all if it didn’t involve gambling. “What I’d like to do is relax in my room, have a glass of wine, and take in the view of the Strip and the lake. Why don’t you join me? It’s still early, and I’d love to hear more about what you’ve been doing the past twenty years, how Wyatt found you, and The Benson’s opening.”
Seeing Alessandra’s skeptical look, he added, “Don’t worry, we’ll stay in the living room. And I promise not to take advantage of you.”
Alessandra laughed. “What makes you think I won’t be the one to take advantage ofyou?”
“That’s an outcome I would be very pleased with…” Beau looked at her appreciatively, the joking tone gone.
Maybe I’m wrong about her,he thought.And if I’m not wrong, maybe I don’t even care.The thought of extending his time with Alessandra—whatever her motivation—made him more excited than winning at the craps table. “Is that a yes, you’ll join me? As you know very well, the view in my room is spectacular. I think it’s the best on the Strip.”
“Only the best for you, Mr. Brooks. Yes, I’ll join you. But let’s get some food sent up. It’s been a while since dinner, and I’m hungry.”
Alessandra had needed Beau to keep gambling. He was winning too much, and she needed him to lose. But there were protocols she must follow. It would be unethical—illegal under Nevada law, actually—for her to encourage any gambler to keep betting after the gambler said he wanted to stop. As Sailor said, if Alessandra was going to ensure Beau gambled more tomorrow, she had to make sure he was comfortable at The Benson.
Hopefully Sailor’s advice on the phone was correct. If he wanted to talk about his wins, and if it made him happy for her to join him in his suite for another drink, she would do it. She’d never had a problem managing flirtatious high-rollers while keeping them gambling, even those who were exceedingly persistent.
Given their past, managing Beau might be a little more difficult—and managing herself would be even harder. The problem with Beau Brooks was that Alessandra was already feeling a sense of excitement. The thought of being alone with him in his room and of the kiss that had happened earlier filled her mind with other possibilities.
What Kim had sensed was exactly the way Alessandra felt around Beau—it was electric, always had been. The way he was looking at her after their banter made her want more of him. She’d never experienced that type of sexual attraction for anyone except Beau. And after him, she’d made a point to avoid professional gamblers in general. They reminded her of her dad, and she didn’t want the risk.
Being honest with herself, the old attraction to him had been immediate—as in, as soon as he got out of the limo. Throughout the day, she remembered not just his mouth on her at that long-ago concert, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to feel his hands on her naked body again.
When he’d won, she was genuinely happy for him. Still, Alessandra knew he would use her to get more free amenities—more room nights, more gourmet dinners. It was one of the ways gamblers kept their costs down. Up to that point, he hadn’t asked for a single thing other than the room. Despite Beau’s family wealth, it was unusual. And she’d learned to realize that sometimes wealth wasn’t what it seemed. For all she knew, Beau’s family had gambled away their money.
Once in the suite, Alessandra was sitting across from him on the couch. The charcuterie board in front of them was almost gone. Beau reached across her to refill their wineglasses for the third time, his arm lightly brushing hers.
