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“Got it.” Samson shifted his feet, longing for the width and comfort of his engineer boots.
“Be your usual charming self.” Nick laughed at his joke. “Or just try not to scare the piss outta them.”
“Very funny. How’s it going there?”
“Stupid bullshit. Spent the day in some fancy law office in the MetLife building, repeating what I told three other lawyers yesterday. Looks like I’ll be here till the middle of next week.”
Great. Of course, Samson could handle shit for another few days, but did he feel like it? Hell no.
“I’ll call you after we close.” Samson pulled at the collar of his shirt.
“Have fun.”
Samson smirked into the phone, then swiped the call away.
He’d already gone over the VIP list and matched the tables with the names. The noticeable faces were easy, so he paced himself, complimenting the women and checking that the men had their favorite beverage. It was crazy how most of these people had multi-million bank accounts, yet having the owner stop at their table seemed to make their night a success.
2
“You could look more excited. This is your bachelorette party in The City of Sin.” Every time Juliet said “The City of Sin,” her voice grew, like repeating it louder would make Lisbeth enjoy herself more. Truth. She would’ve been just as happy going to a day spa in Beverly Hills, getting a facial and massage, then having lunch at that fabulous sushi place on Wilshire Blvd, but no, Juliet, her maid of honor, insisted on a big blowout in Vegas.
Lisbeth surveyed their velvet-roped area and had to admit Club Wicked had gone all out. It might not have been right on the Strip, but somehow being set back one block gave it a bit of mystique.
“Aren’t you at least going to wear this? I had it custom-made.” Juliet held up a satin banner that read:Bride To Be~~Viva Las Vegas.With theIin Viva shaped like a penis.
“What do you think?” Lisbeth rolled her eyes, and Juliet pulled a disapproving face.
Lisbeth’s gaze roamed over the waitstaff. Whoever hired and trained these women had an eye for detail. While they were attractive, there was nothing overtly sexy about their behavior, and even though their costumes were revealing, the servers managed to carry themselves with class.
“I know what you’re doing,” Juliet accused.
Lisbeth furrowed her brow and cocked her head.
“You don’t fool me. You’re surveying the space like you’re working the party.”
Lisbeth opened her mouth to deny the truth, but Juliet cut her off.
“Don’t bother denying it. Right now, you’ve already critiqued the decor, noted the DJ, Calvin Harris, was top-notch, and now you’re observing the efficiency of the waitstaff.”
“Wow, I didn’t realize I’d become that transparent.”
Lisbeth shook her head slowly and dramatically, secretly liking how Juliet read her so easily. It confirmed the length and comfort of their friendship.
“Well, you have, and there will be no more of it. As I mentioned earlier, you’re here for fun, not checking out this space for a future client’s event. Fun,just fun—plain and simple.”
“But you have to admit this would be a great account. I’ve done some research, and the owners have mega-clubs in Brooklyn and Manhattan. They obviously know what they’re doing and have connections here in Vegas.”
“And you can pursue all that on Monday.” Juliet shoved a champagne glass in her hand, then clinked it with hers. “Here’s to forgetting about business.”
Juliet, unlike Lisbeth, grew up as the pampered yet sweet daughter of a well-known TV producer, Arson Mitchell, responsible for countless number-one TV shows and the top-three-rated sitcoms in ABC’s Thursday night lineup. They’d met five years ago when Lisbeth first opened Luxury Lifestyles by Lisbeth, an event planning agency based in Los Angeles.
Juliet hired LLL, Inc. to plan her then-boyfriend’s thirtieth birthday blowout. She spared no expense with the safari theme, right down to the camels roaming the lawn of her Beverly Hills mansion. The event was a huge success. Juliet was thrilled, and a friendship was born, resulting in more top-shelf clients for Lisbeth and the break she needed to catapult her business.
Unfortunately, three weeks later, Juliet found the boyfriend doing her housekeeper in the pool house, but she chalked it up to a lesson learned: don’t throw a lavish party for someone you’ve only known for four months.
“And if you want to check something out, why don’t you start with that delicious man standing by the stairs.” Juliet nodded toward the extremely handsome, rough-looking guy leaning against the chrome railing.
“Did you forget I’m getting married in three months?” Lisbeth laughed at her friend's roving eye. If there was a good-looking man within twenty feet, Juliet scoped him out.
