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There were parts of Beau that had changed. His previous jet-black hair now had streaks of gray. Younger, he’d worn the standard attire of twenty-something high-rollers—an old T-shirt, a hoodie, and jeans. Today’s attire seemed more like a businessman—black-on-black shirt and jacket. If he were any other gambler, she would be immune to his handsome face, his dark eyes, and the expectant way he looked at her, like an invitation into his orbit.
She looked at the photos lining the two long shelves in her office. Most were of The Benson’s construction. One photo was of Alessandra and Wyatt, although at the time, they hadn’t known each other very well. Holter Holdings, Wyatt’s private equity firm, was the current owner of The Benson, but not by choice. The original developer went bankrupt during the market downturn, and Holter Holdings got the resort back, still under construction.
Wyatt had no experience in the casino resort industry. Nevertheless, the market to sell had been terrible. The shareholders decided to continue with the construction, hoping the market would get better and they could sell at a profit.
For Wyatt, it was very expensive passion project. He named the resort after his son, who had died in a tragic accident as a toddler. When Wyatt hired Alessandra Caro as CEO to open the resort, industry experts considered it risky because her previous experience as a resort CEO was in smaller, less luxurious resorts. But Wyatt had an unshakable faith in Alessandra’s hard work and business insight. When he’d interviewed her, he immediately knew those skills would transcend her lack of mega-resort experience.
There were other photos, too, of Alessandra and various celebrities who she’d come in contact with. There was one very small photo in the back of the others. Beau had won a poker tournament, taking home first prize of around $350,000, and Alessandra was standing next to him. His right hand was hidden from the camera, but Alessandra recalled it had been resting on the small of her back. She should have thrown the photo away years ago, but for some reason, it always made the trip from one job to the other.
Alessandra reminded herself that high-rollers like Beau Brooks were used to getting what they wanted. They loved having a woman on their arm when they gambled. Sailor was an expert at dealing with that part of her executive host job. She thought it was fun to figure out ways to turn them down while keeping them happy and spending money. Alessandra, on the other hand, found such games an annoying, though sometimes inherent, part of the job.
Still, with Beau Brooks, even after what had happened, she didn’t feel as annoyed as she expected to. What she felt was more like a shock to her system, bringing back both the good and bad feelings from their past. Her body had wanted more when they kissed.
That would be dumb. Professional gamblers like him had a pattern, a pattern he’d shown in the past. Find a woman, flirt with the woman, bed the woman, leave the woman. She knew his pattern and remembered what it felt like being left with a broken heart and a ruined career at the hand of the gambler.
However, the idea of a short sexual dalliance with Beau persisted. Whether it would be for revenge of for pleasure, she didn’t know. She knew how adeptly he could make her come—touching her in all the right spots, moving his tongue over all the right spots.
She recalled the time they’d been at a concert, up at the amphitheater at Spring Mountain Ranch. The sun had gone down. The concert had begun, but she and Beau weren’t in their seats yet; they were still waiting for drinks. As they moved toward their seats, Beau pulled her to the side where some trees partially obscured the view.
He took her behind one of them and faced her, pushing her back against the trunk. Alessandra thought it would just be a quick kiss. Instead, Beau pulled down her shorts and underwear.
“What are you doing?” she’d exclaimed, looking around. Everyone else was focused on the stage, thankfully.
“I’m going to make you come here, where you can’t scream,” Beau said, dropping to his knees.
She was going to stop him until his tongue had moved over her clit. “Fuck, Beau,” Alessandra had whispered. “Here?”
“Lean against the tree, baby. Give me that pussy.”
He increased the speed and pressure on the nub. When she felt two fingers push inside her, she groaned.
“Quiet. There are people only a few feet away. You don’t want them to see us, do you?” Beau had said. The thought of other people so close had been both frightening and completely hot.
Alessandra put her hand over her mouth. The pleasure was intensely focused on her entire pubic area. Her hips rocked back and forth toward Beau’s mouth. One leg wrapped around his shoulder and pulled his mouth closer.
“Harder, Beau, harder. I’m going to come… Oh fuck,” she started to yell, stopping herself again with her hand. After the orgasm, as Alessandra leaned against the tree, Beau pulled her shorts and panties back up. Reason returned to her brain, and she looked around furtively, hoping no one had seen them.
Sitting in her office chair today, Alessandra’s nerve endings tingled over her crotch. She reminded herself again that it was not a good idea to get too involved. She would be in charge, but still, there were plenty of ways he could take advantage of her.
It wasn’t the norm for professional gamblers to make a lot of money. The way it happened was first, they eventually lost it. Then, they’d ask to borrow money. Or they’d just take money from whoever was stupid enough to trust them. Beau had a lot of money, but his MO had been similar years ago.
His mom Jillian was from the family who got rich on the automatic card shuffler—an invention they never sold. Instead, they earned enormous wealth by leasing the device to thousands of casinos, on millions of table games, across the world. The males in the family were all gamblers—even Jillian’s father and grandfather, who’d patented the enormously profitable invention.
Beau’s brother Aaron was also a professional gambler. And Beau’s father was a gambler as well, just like Alessandra’s had been. Except to her knowledge, Beau’s dad hadn’t spent his kid’s entire college fund and lost the family house like Alessandra’s had.
That didn’t mean Beau wouldn’t take advantage of her, though. He wasn’t trustworthy. Alessandra needed him to gamble, but she also needed to erase him from her mind and just let Sailor deal with him for the next several days.
Rekindling their romance, as appealing as the thought was, might have unintended consequences. And yet, she was chagrined that despite all logic, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. And she really needed to be focused on the other parts of her work.
In fact, for the three days before Beau had arrived, the only thing she had thought about was the possibility of losing her job and how humiliating it would be for her. Over Christmas, her mom Claire had noticed Alessandra’s usual enthusiasm for the season was absent.
When Alessandra told her about the conversation with Wyatt, Claire was philosophical. She encouraged Alessandra to use the time off as an opportunity. “Take your severance package and enjoy yourself. Focus on some new interests. Get a hobby. Read. Travel,” Claire had advised.
The thought of following her mother’s advice made Alessandra feel emptier. For the past twenty years, all she’d focused on was her career. Even when she was in college, she worked nearly full-time, learning every aspect of the casino resort industry.
Before she’d been a casino host, she’d been a housekeeper, a hotel desk clerk, a card dealer, a slot manager, and numerous other roles, all in preparation for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity at The Benson. After Beau, she hadn’t had any relationships that had lasted more than seven months. She’d been too busy building her career to prioritize time for romantic involvements.
Plus, what her mom had gone through with her dad had soured Alessandra on the thought of trusting anyone that much. Her mom was the chief financial officer and a founding executive at Las Vegas State Bank. But Alessandra’s dad, Brian, almost ruined his wife’s career. The last thing Alessandra needed was to work so hard to build a career, like her mom had, only to have someone she loved take it away. Beau had given her a taste of that early in her career, and she didn’t need to learn the lesson again.
