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“I’m not seeing her.” The kiss flashed through his mind. “She’s just someone who has agreed to show you what running a hotel is like.”
“Boring.” Madison sagged back against the lounge. “When are you and my parents going to realize that I don’t want to be stuck in a stupid office? I want to be an actress.”
“Your parents are concerned that you haven’t explored all the options available to you.”
“Like they want me to explore my options. They want me to go to the college of their choice and major in business or get a law degree and become just like them. It’s not what I want.”
“I didn’t know what I wanted at your age.”
She smirked as if he’d just made her point. “That’s not true. Mom said you spent all your free time messing with your computers. And you started that security software company by the time you were twenty. You were a multimillionaire before you even graduated.”
“But I still graduated.”
“Whatever. The point is, you were successful because you were really good with computers and it’s what you loved to do, not because you have a master’s in design engineering.”
Logan glared at her. No wonder her parents had shipped her off to him. Bringing her into line with “because I said so” wasn’t going to work on an intelligent, determined young woman like Madison.
“Fine, but I still graduated from college.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “Face it, kid, for the next month, you’re stuck with me and my opinion on what’s best for you. Go shower and I’ll take you to my favorite restaurant.”
Forty minutes later they slid into a booth at Luigi’s. Madison stared around her in disgust.
“This is a pizza place.”
“Not just any pizza place. They have the best Italian food outside of Italy.”
“I thought you were going to take me somewhere nice.”
“This is nice.”
She rolled her eyes at him. Once they’d ordered, Madison leaned her arms on the table and began to grill him.
“Who is this woman you’re dumping me on?”
“Scarlett Fontaine. She runs Fontaine Richesse. You’ll like her. She used to be an actress.”
Madison’s blue eyes narrowed. “Used to be? As in she failed at it, so now she can tell me what a huge mistake I’m making if I don’t go to college?”
“Used to be. As in she now she runs a billion-dollar hotel and casino.”
And did a pretty good job at it. Or at least she’d hired people who knew what they were doing.
“What is she, fifty?” Madison scoffed. “There’s plenty of time for me to come up with a backup plan in case acting doesn’t pan out.”
“She’s thirty-one.” It startled him to realize he knew how old she was. And that her next birthday was a month away.
“So young? Why’d she give up so fast?”
“I’m assuming because she was offered the chance of a lifetime.”
“Running a hotel?”
“One of Las Vegas’s premier hotels.”
But Madison looked unconvinced. “She’s nothing more than a quitter.”
“That’s not how I would characterize her.”
Forty-five minutes later, they entered Scarlett’s hotel and crossed to the elevators that would take them to the executive offices on the third floor. When the doors opened, Logan was startled by the man who stepped out. He and John Malcolm exchanged a quick greeting before the lawyer headed off.
Puzzling over the presence of Tiberius Stone’s lawyer in Scarlett’s hotel, Logan absently pointed Madison toward the restroom and told her where to find him when she was done. Seconds later, he entered Scarlett’s office and caught her sitting behind her desk, full lips pursed, her attention on her computer monitor. Logan noticed immediately that she’d changed her clothes. Now she was wearing a sleeveless lime blouse with a ruffled front that drew attention to her full breasts and showed off her toned arms. She’d left her long hair down and it spilled across her shoulders in a honey-streaked brown curtain that made his fingers itch to slide through it. He sunk the treacherous digits into his pocket and strolled up to her desk.
“I didn’t realize you and Tiberius shared a lawyer,” he said, skipping a more traditional hello.
She stood up when he spoke. Instinctively he appreciated how the slim black skirt skimmed her lean hips. The outfit was sexy and professional, a delectable one-two punch to his gut.
“We don’t.” She fetched a manila envelope from her desk. “He brought me this. It’s from Tiberius.”
