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“Unless you really wanna stand in here all day?” he says, cocking his brow.
But I can’t agree quickly enough, and moments later, Ethan and I are arm in arm as we exit the casino.
Ethan assures me as we exit that he knows a great place to shop for some new clothes and anything I can think of.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ethan
Levenson's appearance doesn’t surprise me at all, but his offer does.
He tipped the bottle a little too hard last night, and he tells me he may or may not have said some things, “That might have been a little brash,” he confesses sheepishly.
He’s doing his best ‘I’m sorry’ face but can't hide that cold look in his eyes.
The look of a man who wants his two million dollars back, even though he hasn’t paid me a cent of it yet.
Part of me wants to tell Krissy about the money, her money, really.
She chose the winning number. I just placed the bet.
But I think I’ll wait until we have the money before I tell her about it.
“How about we bury the hatchet, Ethan? And to make it worth your while, I’ll double down on my loss… four million on the table. Tonight after dinner. Just you and me,” he tells me, not sounding like he’s asking anymore.
“Well…,” I muse aloud, pretending like I’m having trouble deciding.
“I would need my lucky charm. But she’s all booked out working your slots floor, it seems,” I shrug, politely declining him.
Knowing he won’t be so quick to disappear until he gets what he wants, which is me losing everything to him somehow.
“That girl from last night?” he asks in a tone of disbelief.
“I thought you two were getting along. I can see a lot from my office with all these cameras Ethan. Remember that,” he cautions me, but he can’t stop himself from smiling.
His hearty laugh to himself as he shakes his head before scanning the room tells me he’ll do whatever it takes to have me back at the gambling table.
Levenson’s not one to lose face, and if he’s already two million down after I walked away last night, it’s not something he’d let simmer for too long before he’d even dream of actually paying me.
“I’ll make sure you have whatever makes you comfortable. And remember, the penthouse suite, the whole hotel is at your service,” he reminds me, having Krissy’s supervisor brought over so he can give her the good news about being down another employee for the shift himself.
“See you tonight, at say…nine?” he asks over his shoulder as he turns to leave.
Always having the last word.
I don’t say yes, but I don’t say no. I already know he’s expecting me to join him later.
Levenson’s being nice enough now, but only until he wins his money back.
His house, his rules. But I’m getting what I want, and that’s Krissy. All to myself for today.
And for every day to come, if I play my own cards right.
I sense Krissy’s a little annoyed at me for interfering, getting my way. But like I tell her, she can still get paid for working, and we can still spend time together.
It’s a win-win, and it isn’t long before she forgives me.
Agreeing to let me get her out of here and go do something more fun.
“You mad?” I ask once we’re out on the street, looking both ways before we cross as I slip her hand into mine.
Feeling her looking up at me long before we reach the other side.
“Not mad…just…. But, of course, I’m not mad,” she sighs, hugging my arm and leaning into me.
“I’m just a little surprised Mr. Levenson seems so keen to make sure you get what you want,” she says, with the closest thing to suspicion in her voice.
“Oh, I’m well aware of his tactics, Krissy,” I explain, motioning with my chin to the shopping boutiques I plan on using to give her a spoiling of her own.
“And what are your tactics, Mr. Silverthorne?” She challenges me, squeezing my arm as hard as she can. Then, squeaking with laughter when I lift her up by it as if she weighs nothing.
“You’re my tactic. My lucky charm,” I chuckle, letting her down slowly and stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to kiss her.
She tenses up at first, and keeping my eyes open, I can see she’s worried that people might see us.
“You ashamed of me?” I rib her, noticing her blush as she looks at her feet.
“More like the other way around,” she murmurs.
“I don’t want people at the casino to think—,” she starts to say aloud, but I cut her off.
“I don’t care what other people think, Krissy. I care about you,” I tell her firmly, kissing her again to prove my point.
Glad when she returns it with the same energy I’m giving out.
“That’s better. Now let’s go buy some stuff,” I announce, eager to get out of a day-old suit myself and into something more comfortable.
