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Nick’s minutes of introspection had Isabelle reading his mind.
“I can assure you our services are completely legitimate.” She flipped open the laptop. “Las Vegas differs from most cities because of our broad range of entertainment, but one thing we have in common with other metropolitan areas is an influx of men. Businessmen, divorced men, men looking to obtain a divorce, men hosting bachelor parties, or just a man traveling alone—all looking for companionship. They don’t want to attend a business dinner without a date, they don’t want to dine alone, or they just don’t want to be alone. And that’s where Selective Services comes in.”
Isabelle tapped at her keyboard, then turned the screen to Nick. “As you can see, we hire only quality women. We don’t allow drugs of any kind, and alcohol is only permitted when with a client and of course never to excess. Our employees are the spokeswomen for our business. A business we take very seriously.”
Nick scrolled through the pictures of women of all ethnicities and ages. They resembled the caliber him and Samson hired at Club Wicked.
“Our employees are all thoroughly vetted before employment so there’s no surprises.”
Nick shot a look to Cobra, then handed the laptop back to Isabelle. “Looks good to me.”
“Wonderful.” Isabelle tapped the keyboard again. “We have an array of different packages and as I discussed with Cobrathere will be a discount for each of your clubs if you use our service exclusively.”
The rest of the meeting consisted of ironing out the details, and an hour later him and Cobra had signed contracts and were back on the elevator.
When they reached the lobby, Nick motioned to the bar at the entrance of the casino. “Let’s toast our new venture.”
A few steps raised the bar above floor level giving them an overview of the casino on one side and the bustling lobby on the other. They took seats at the bar and each ordered a Jack Daniels.
Nick ran his finger over the rim of his glass. “I think this is gonna be a good deal for both of us. I plan on putting the service right on the website. This way if a guy doesn’t wanna come to the club alone he can hire someone, along with a limo stocked with whatever liquor he wants.”
“Another way to bring people into the club and make money—and the best part is, it’s fuckin’ legit.”
“Exactly.”
Nick sipped at his drink observing the endless lines of people checking into the hotel. “How much money you think these places make?”
Cobra followed his gaze. “No fuckin’ clue, but I can tell you they’re busy morning and night with people just dying to throw away their money.”
“Un-fuckin-believable.”
“Hiring Selective Services is a win-win,” Cobra said. “One stop shopping and—What are you looking at?”
Nick pushed away from the bar. “Give me that key card.”
“What?”
“Give me the fuckin’ key card.” Nick held out his hand and waggled his fingers.
Cobra dug into his jeans pocket. “What’s the matter?” He pulled out the card and handed it over.
Nick grabbed it out of Cobra’s hand and bolted out of the bar. Maybe he wasn’t sure the other night at Johnny Russo’s party but this time he was dead sure—the woman walking toward the elevator bank was Cheryl—his Cheryl.
6
Nick pushed his way through the lobby and entered the alcove where the two private elevators were housed just as the elevator door closed. He frantically hit the button, then waited until the other elevator appeared. He hopped on then waved the key card over the green light and the doors closed whisking him to the top floor. Seconds later the doors glided open and he exited.
Nick looked to his right, no one, then to his left and in the distance he spotted her by the door for Selective Services. She swiped a key card, and entered. A few seconds later, he reached the door just as it eased shut. He rapped his knuckles against the heavy wood not really sure what he was doing or what he would even say.
The door swung open and Nick was faced with Isabelle’s questioning expression.
He barged past her into the foyer. “Where is she?”
“Mr. Sinclair, I?—”
“The blonde who came in here, Cheryl Benson. Where is she?”
Isabelle’s eyes widened just slightly. “There’s no one by that name here.”
