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Immediately, I tune back in, my heart hammering in my throat at the mere mention of my old team. I missed what she said before but wish I'd caught it now.
Domenic swears surprisingly colorfully under his breath. He rubs his jaw as he examines one of the screens displaying fuzzy static. He looks thoughtful but pissed, and I think it's fair to say that hereallydoesn't like the Wild Seven. In fact, whatever Vivian said, it looks like Domenic really hates them.
This makes me realize that not only do I need to keep my precious little daughter a secret from this powerful, terrifying mafioso don, but he absolutelycannotfind out about my past. He can't know why I came to Las Vegas with a vendetta against casinos, and he certainly cannot find out that I was once a part of the Wild Seven that he hates so much.
Telling my mother that I've scored a job in security attheGolden Flame Casino is a big bonus to my new, unexpected situation. She was over the moon. She danced in the living room to eighties music and told me I'd hit a turning point in my life, and she was really excited for me.
I'm less enthused.
Don't get me wrong. I'll probably do well in casino security, seeing as I've been bypassing it for years at countless gambling establishments. But part of me thinks I shouldn't have even told her where I'm "working" now because it still feels surreal and…dangerous.
Partly because before I left last night, Domenic Caputo warned me that he'd track me down himself if I didn't show up for my new job today. Yikes. He'd been cold and severe and really fucking scary.
But my mom has been really down lately, so I told her just so we could stay up late in our little apartment and celebrate this small win with box wine while she showed me the cute pictures of Evie she took last night while I was away.
Now here I am, pulling into the back parking lot of the Golden Flame, dressed in the most professional clothes I own—a dark gray pencil skirt and blazer over a soft blue blouse and neutral pumps. I'm a bundle of nerves as I take a few deep breaths in the junky old car my mom and I share, wondering if this is all a big trap.
What if I walk in there and someone on the security team has researched my background and discovered who I am? Or what if Domenic has changed his mind, and I'm about to be beaten up by some big, hulking mafiosos while dressed like Secretary Barbie?
This is a bad idea. I should go.
My phone buzzes, and I glance at it. My mom sent another message with a picture attached. It's Evelyn eating oatmeal for breakfast and trying to build a snowman out of it, wearing the shy smile so characteristic of her.
We're rooting for you.Evie even said 'mama' a couple of times after you left.
God. Of course, she had to send something to make me so emotional. I quickly swipe away my tears and fix my makeup with my emergency purse stash before taking a bracing breath and walking up to the back of the casino.
I realize I need some kind of work ID to get in, and I'm about to stand here awkwardly, trying to figure it out, when the door swings open.
I immediately flush at the sight of Domenic Caputo first thing in the morning. He's dressed to perfection as always, and his dark hair is still wet from his shower but is styled perfectly. I still remember what it looked like that night three years ago, mussed and falling over his forehead as I ran my fingers through it, his soft moans against my ear—
Oh, my God. No. Are you insane? Absolutelynothinking about that.
I clear my throat and smile brightly, hoping to get off on the right foot despite the very unordinary situation we're in. "Thanks for letting me in. I guess I should get a security card…thing."
He says nothing, keeping his perfect face as enigmatically composed as ever. I scurry past and internally pinch myself for how bad I am with words. He walks with me down a long hall toward the security rooms, and I try again because I'll be damned if it's this awkward the entire time I work for…my baby daddy.
Yeah, this situation is all kinds of fucked.
"How are you today?" I hazard.
"Just as opposed to small talk as ever," he mutters.
The snort escapes me before I can help it, and when he shoots me a look, I face forward quickly and hope my amusement isn't too noticeable. "Right. Not a small-talk kind of guy. If I recall right, you're arealist. A.k.a., a pessimist. Which is fine—there's already plenty of sunshine on this Las Vegas morning. We wouldn't want to overdo it."
He sighs. It's a weary sound. "There is nowe."
Suppose he's trying to set a clear, professional boundary line between us. In that case, he doesn't need to resort to that becauseI am notabout to get caught up in the allure of Domenic Caputo again. Not with so much riding on me, keeping all my secrets far away from him.
"There never has been," I reply chipperly, and when he narrows his eyes at me as we stop outside the security room, I lower my voice and face him. "Look, I know showing up here again is a pain in the ass for you. And…for the record, I'm sorry about that. But I do really appreciate that I'm here with the potential to do something else with my life instead of…you know. Dead in a ditch somewhere with my fingerprints burned off."
His lips twitch, and he looks away. I can't be sure what he's thinking, but he doesn't seem intent on addressing anything I've just said. Maybe Caputos don't do the wholegratitudething.
"You'll be in charge of ensuring hackers cannot infiltrate the systems of my casino in all departments, not just in the slot machines. I trust you have experience with other hacking forms as well?"
"A decent amount," I admit with slight embarrassment. Then I blink. "Wait.Yourcasino? Are you officially in charge of it, then? I didn't realize you took your father's—"
Domenic cuts me off. "From now on, there will be no standing and chatting around first thing in the morning. Go in and work with the security team. You have an hour's break at lunch, and you'll be paid weekly. No overtime."
