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Keeping my hand in his, Ethan announces firmly, “Krissy will be looking after me for the rest of tonight.”
His tone is firm. Final. And watching the hostess and supervisor both gulp, I can see that not every guest is a pushover when it comes to playing by house rules, especially not a man like Ethan Silverthorne.
He’s a man who knows what he wants. But what in the world could he want with a girl like me? There’s only one way to find out.
CHAPTER TWO
Ethan
‘You need to spend more money, Ethan. Invest it in things like you used to…otherwise, it’s just going in taxes.’
As I'm making my way up to the high rollers room, the nasally voice of my accountant, Vince, is still ringing in my ears long after I’ve finished dinner with him and the casino owner, Saul Levenson.
I was listening to them list off quarterly casino profits for three hours and plans for expansion…more profits, that’s all they think about.
More.
It’s supposed to impress me.
Five-star royal treatment. Palatial surroundings and overpriced food in teensy portions on huge plates, like I’ve never seen it before or never lived the good life.
But I have seen it all before. Seen it all and done it all.
The casino investment idea is kinda new to me, though, so I’ve gone along with it. Even though it begs the question: if you’re doing so well, why do you need my money?
I need to understand why my accountant is keen on me to invest and how he also seems to know so much about the high rollers room.
That’s the real reason I’m here, I guess. Digging up a little dirt on my main money manager and his sudden interest in getting me to invest in a casino.
And the owner, Levenson, who I learned through conversation, is his second-biggest client next to my estate.
I smell a rat, but I’m not gonna say a word.
Not yet.
And I’ll need more than just tiny food on big plates long before I reach for my pocket to invest in something that is clearly designed to take and never give back.
Silverthorne money is old money. And by the time I was old enough to come into the estate, once I was the last one standing and without any family to pass it onto, it was clearly in need of serious management.
Decades of overspending and lawyers and accountants helping themselves to Silverthorne money unknown to the family had taken its toll. It’s taken me over twenty years to bring the shine back to the Silverthorne name.
It’s a thing to be proud of now, and although the net worth is staggering, I’ve worked too hard to fritter it away as my ancestors did.
But gambling? It’s never been my thing.
My gut tells me that’s what probably landed the estate in trouble in the first place.
I’ll take a calculated risk, sure. But only if I know it’s gonna work.
I’m the last surviving Silverthorne bachelor, and any so-called distant or long-lost relations of the family name couldn’t afford the legal fight to stake their false claim.
Something they only knew about after reading it in the papers, usually.
But with a penthouse suite for the weekend, a freshly tailored suit, and a ‘complimentary’ hundred thousand in Pearl Room chips to play with from the owner as I mull my future business prospect, I figure why the fuck not?
Hell, Ethan. You might even enjoy yourself for once.
The high rollers Pearl Room is beautiful if you’re into that kind of thing.
An oriental theme with tons of marble, priceless-looking art, vases with gleaming gold, everything else. Deep red, velvet drapery, and more marble tabletops.
A maestro quietly tinkles the ivories on a grand piano, with a view of the city skyline that would make any property developer blush.
But with me being just one of three high rollers on a Friday night, there are many empty seats in many vacant, private suites designed to pamper those with more money than sense.
So I’ve submitted myself to the spoils of the casino’s Pearl Room, and much like the dinner that didn’t even touch the sides of my still rumbling belly, it’s not long before I feel like I’m wasting my time as well as someone else’s money here.
Eyeing the stack of ornate chips, I figure I’ve already tripled my complimentary gift, but it’s not making me feel anything.
Not the Pearl Room, not the roulette wheel. And definitely not the money.
I feel…nothing until I need to get up to use the restroom, that is until I see her.
Making my way past the bar on the way to the men’s room, I’m stopped by the only thing of interest I’ve seen at the casino all day.
The perfect behind, the most grab me and squeeze me shape of a girl I’ve ever seen.
She’s the only one who looks real somehow in a huge space filled with plastic people, big hair, and fake tits.
