This time I won’t fuck it up.
Chapter Nine
Alex
8 weeks later
My phone rang, waking me from my nap. I was at my sister’s house in Nashville, hiding from my life back home. The last two months have been wonderful and terrible, all at the same time. Michael and I were developing a relationship beyond what my father had allowed, and my sister had started dating a new guy who seemed really sweet.
I picked up the now silent phone from the table next to my lounge chair and looked to see a missed call from Max. He had been pushing me to return home, reminding me Perception needed me as much as I needed it. I didn’t know if I agreed with him on that, but I couldn’t hide forever. Eventually I would have to confront the pain and betrayal from Gideon, but every time I thought about him, I remembered his hands all over those two women and I felt sick all over again.
I was about to set the phone down and jump into the pool to cool off from the humid Tennessee summer when my phone rang. Seeing it was Max again, I answered.
“Hey!” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and leaned back on the chair, the large umbrella shading me from the direct sun.
“Hey yourself. How’s life in Music City?”
“Same old Nashville.” I shrugged like he could see me and took a sip of the too sweet tea my sister loved to make.
“It's time to come home, Alex. You can’t run from this forever.”
Leave it to Maximus to bulldoze the situation. He had been overseeing the construction at Perception and was staying at my house. After my mini-breakdown, Max offered to take care of everything while I came home and tried to find myself again. He suggested that by confronting my parents, even at their graves, I might be able to move past the pain.
I didn’t think it would work, but after yelling at their headstones, I felt better. My sister held my hand and let me shout out the years of neglect and abuse they put us through, and she was even able to purge some of her misplaced guilt over adopting Michael. I had to remind her that by her doing that, she allowed me to be a part of his life, and for that I was grateful.
I sighed loudly, knowing he was right, yet again. Max had a way of kicking through the layers of excuses people used to justify certain things in their lives. He doesn’t reason his way through your mess. He just tells you like it is and that’s that.
“I know. I just don’t know if I’m ready.”
“Cut the crap, Alex. You’re hiding from a man and I thought you were stronger than that.”
I sat up in my chair, offended by his comment. “Screw you Max. Gideon had nothing to do with me coming home.”
Chuckling through the phone, his deep timbre resonating through the speaker, “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. But you have some final approvals for the changes and you still have to submit the name change into the state liquor board for approval. Those are things I can’t do for you.”
I knew I had asked a lot of my friend but after he remarked how he needed a break from Los Angeles and the vapid assholes that frequented the club he worked at; I knew Perception could be his new home. After a night of too much wine and weed, he agreed to move to Las Vegas and help me with the next stage of growth. He wasn’t aware that I signed a quarter of the club over to him, but that was a surprise for later.
“I’m supposed to have dinner with Annalise and her friends tomorrow, but I’ll catch a flight out the day after. I want to take a run at my sister about moving again, but she seems happy with her new guy.”
“Don’t worry. Everything will work itself out.” He cryptically responded and after saying our goodbyes, he hung up.
Leaning back, I envisioned all the changes Perception had undergone while I was hiding in Tennessee, licking my wounds from Gideon. Shaking my head, I fought the tears again and hoped one day soon, I wouldn’t be so sad over losing him.
I stood from the chair and got dizzy, the landscape tilting as I tried to take a step. Sitting back down, I took a sip of the cold tea and started to feel better. Leaving the pool, I went to find my sister and Michael to let them know I had to go home. I would miss being able to spend time with them, but Las Vegas was my home and I needed to get back there.
After tears and understanding, I packed and booked my flight for early in the morning, day after tomorrow.
Dinner with Annalise and Sebastian was hilarious. They invited me to their building in downtown Nashville and before long, all the building's residents joined us. I got to meet the hilarious Ivan and his girlfriend Daniella and the unbelievably handsome Nathaniel and his wife Serenity. Seeing Christopher walking across the rooftop to hug me had me crying tears of joy. To see him so healthy and happily in love with Sebastian’s brother, Jonathan, gave me hope that even through pain, love could be found.
My sister and Michael drove me to the airport with a promise to visit after the club’s relaunch. Seeing my son so happy, my sister thriving and in love was reassuring as I made the four-hour flight home. I slept the whole way and when we landed, I ordered an Uber, insisting there was no need for someone to pick me up. I wanted to see the work at Perception, for the remaining time it was called that, and to check in with Maggie.
Max texted that he would meet me there and after the car dropped me off, I grabbed coffee and pastries for us. Walking into the club, I was met with newly painted black walls with red accents popping everywhere. Gone were the tables in the center, allowing for more mingle space on the first floor. The booths had been redone and there were now ten new ones for the guests to use.
I set the coffee and donuts down on the bar before I climbed the stairs to the newly renovated second floor. The sound of hammers from the third floors construction rang into the space and I smiled as I turned, taking in the club's newness.
“I thought I’d find you here.” Max remarked, making me jump and grab my chest.
“It looks amazing.” I replied, my eyes taking in the sensual feel of the room. “Thank you.”
He walked to me and pulled me into his arms, placing a soft kiss on the top of my head. It felt good to be held and I wrapped my arms around his waist. Pulling back, I saw the coffees and donuts were now sitting on the newly installed bar, and we walked over, needing the sugar rush to get us through the next few hours.
The contractor came in and we discussed final construction before the decorators could finish. There were six private rooms for play on the second floor, along with a public area, if that’s what their kink was.
After filling out the paperwork to change the club's name legally, I found myself on the couch in my dressing room, the need for a nap pushing me hard. Max joined me and I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, I was once again being carried out of Perception by Max.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and placed my head on his shoulder as he walked into the bright sunlight. A noise from the side drew my attention and there, standing next to his black SUV was Gideon. He had a bouquet of red roses in his hand and a sad smile on his face. I tapped Max on the shoulder, and he set me on my feet.
Placing a kiss on my head, he whispered. “At least listen to him so he’ll go away.”
I cut my eyes to Max and he winked. Turning, I slowly walked toward Gideon, fighting the rising bile with every step. All I could see was him fucking those two women and the tears grew in my eyes. I was about ten feet from him when the need to throw up hit me hard. I rushed to the nearest trashcan and purged the coffee and sweet treats, the same dizzy feeling overtaking me that had plagued me for a few weeks.
Gideon and Max both rushed to me, and Max caught me just as my knees gave way. He scooped me into his arms and hustled back into Perception. Gideon tried to follow, and Max shook his head. Gideon nodded sadly and left the roses by the back door as he turned and silently left.
Was it really that easy to walk away?
To be continued
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About the Author
H.J. Marshall began her love of reading and writing at an early age and has always dreamed of being a writer full time. A nomadic youth exposed her to different perspectives of life, community, and culture, resulting in a lifelong love of food, music, and history. When she is not writing, she enjoys the music of all generations and genres and living in her quiet cabin in the woods. H.J. is an avid traveler who has spent significant time in the Caribbean and Bahamas, meeting amazing people and seeing wondrous sites. Currently landlocked, H.J. dreams of her beach house, salty air, and a life filled with laughter.
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The Payback
Evan Grace
Chapter One
Lara
The noises coming from the slot machines ring in my ears as I strut through the main casino floor of the Silver Zephyr. This is one of Las Vegas’s oldest casinos and a part of the original strip.
Brighton Banks built it in 1945 and since then it’s gone over multiple cosmetic overhauls. The most extreme was when his grandson Braxton Banks II took over— he still runs it today, but he’s preparing now to pass the baton to his son, Braxton Banks III.
As I look around, I can’t help but wonder if any more changes will be made. I walk over to the nearest bar, turning on the sex appeal I’ve mastered over the past four years.
I lean against the bar, making sure my ample cleavage is on display. I brush some of my golden blonde, wavy locks behind my ear, and wait . . .
“Can I buy you a drink?” Thirty seconds . . . damn, I must be off my game.
I plaster on my signature smile and turn to the man next to me. He looks like he stepped out of a bad eighties movie. I keep my smile in place as I look over the hideous suit he’s wearing. Are those shoulder pads?
His eyes travel down my body and instead of turning me on, it’s turning my stomach. Especially the way he keeps licking his lips . . . barf.
“I’m sorry, I’m waiting for someone.” A tall gorgeous blond walks by, and I reach out grabbing his arm. “There you are honey? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
He looks at me and the guy standing in front of me. Realization hits him and his smile morphs into one that’s big and bright and he wraps his arms around me. “Sorry babe.” Mystery man kisses my temple and then turns to the eighties man. “I hate leaving her alone because look at her, she’s fucking gorgeous. Thanks for keeping her company.”
Eighties man gives a short nod and then slinks away. I let out a breath and turn to my rescuer. “Thank you for that. I kind of had the feeling he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”
“It was no hardship playing your rescuer.”
Oh . . . I like his smile. I wouldn’t mind spending a couple of hours burning up the sheets with him. I’m supposed to be working but playing sounds so much better. “Can I buy you a drink to thank you for coming to my rescue?” I purr, letting the underlying intentions be known.
Slut shame me, I don’t care. For so long I waited for things to happen for me and now— now I make them happen. I smile up at him, “I’m Lara by the way.” Holding out my hand my pussy clenches when his large palm slides over mine.
“I’m Matt.” He gets close. “How about we head up to my room and order a bottle of champagne.”
My body buzzes with anticipation. “Lead the way, Matt.”
He wraps his arm around my waist and leads me toward the hotel’s elevators. “So, Lara are you here for business or pleasure?”
I want to tell him we don’t need the small talk, but I shake my head. “Neither, I’m a local— born and bred. What about you?”
“Business, but pleasure now.” His voice drops to a seductive whisper.
As we wait for the elevators to open, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for a breath-stealing kiss. He pulls back as the elevator doors slide open and pulls me onto it. There are four other people on with us and he maneuvers us so I’m standing with my back against his front.
I suck in a breath when I feel a very large erection against my back. When we reach his floor, he practically drags me toward his room. The moment we’re in his room my panties are ripped from my body and I’m in Matt’s arms with my legs wrapped around his narrow hips.
My body heats up as he carries me through the room and then my back hits the mattress.
* * *
Matt snores softly from beside me and I can’t help but smile. We had a great time fucking, fucking, and more fucking. I quietly ease out of his bed, grabbing my dress from the floor. On silent feet I tiptoe into the bathroom. I’m able to fix my makeup and fluff my hair to look good enough to go back downstairs to work.
On the counter I grab his toothpaste and quickly brush my teeth with my finger. I set the toothpaste down and that’s when I see what is clearly a wedding ring sitting on top of his shaving kit. Nausea pools in my belly because I may love sex and make no qualms about getting it, but I don’t fuck married men.
I quickly throw my dress back on and then head out into the room. He’s still sleeping so I grab his pants, pulling his wallet out of them. I flip it open and sure enough there’s a picture of a petite brunette, holding a little girl smiling at the camera.
Disgust bubbles up in my belly as I look at this piece of cheating trash. I look through his wallet and find three hundred dollars cash. I pull it out and stuff it in my clutch. On the hotel stationary I leave him a note.
Matt,
I assume your wife doesn’t know you’re a cheating scumbag and I don’t fuck married men. I think you owe me— thank you for the cash. I’ll go buy myself something pretty.
Later asshole,
Lara
I ride the elevator down to the lobby, slip my mask back into place, and push the disgust I feel out of my head as the doors slide open. I step out and strut my way to the poker tables. My gift from douche bag will get me more chips than I was going to play with.
I glance around finding just the right table to sit at. The men all look up as I approach. “Boys do you mind if I sit down?”
The oldest man at the table stands up and pulls my chair out for me. “Have a seat beautiful lady.”
After thanking him I set my cash on the table and the dealer hands me a stack of chips. I scope out the main casino floor looking for him. I let these older players think it is nerves and my tell.
I lose the first hand and then fold the second, by the fourth hand these boys are losing their shirts. They’re just too stubborn to admit that a woman is beating their asses.
When I’m up four grand I take my leave, giving the dealer a hefty tip, and smile as I listen to the old-timers grumble as I walk away with my stack of chips. I carry them toward the cage to cash out and my steps almost falter when I see him, Braxton Banks III.
I hate that he’s so good looking. He’s at least six foot three, with a long lean body. His hair is so dark it looks almost black and is slicked back, but not in a greasy way and his ends curl around his collar. I know if he was closer, I’d see that his eyes are so dark they look almost black and are surrounded by the thickest lashes I’ve ever seen, except for on one other person.
Braxton looks like the devil and that’s fitting because he is in fact evil.
I slow my steps and watch him, and his entourage, walk through the casino’s main floor— he thinks he’s a god and they’re all his fa
ithful followers. When he walks by me his eyes run down my body and I know he likes what he sees.
Chills run down my spine, but I won’t let him use his powers on me, not again— he doesn’t really have powers, but women fall at his feet for a night with him. Since I’ve started watching him there have been many, but do they really know what a monster he is?
I quickly get my cash and then walk in the direction that Braxton went. I spot him over at the craps table, but I don’t approach— instead I stop at the bar and order a glass of champagne.
While I keep my eyes moving, so he doesn’t catch me, I sip the bubbly beverage. This is the most boring part of my job— listen to me talking like I have a regular old 9-5 job.
Nope, not me, I’m a thief, a con artist, and am gearing up to pull my biggest job— then I’m out of here, leaving Las Vegas for good.
Chapter Two
Lara
I pull into the driveway and take a deep breath. What a fucking night— I was so close to having Braxton approach me, but then his personal security came and got him, and they disappeared.
I waited for two hours, but he never came back. I grab my clutch and then climb out of my car. My stilettos click on the sidewalk as I make my way up to the front door of my home. I flip the deadbolt as I step inside.
“Shit.” I hear muttered from the kitchen.
One of my roommates, Holly, she calls herself the whiz, it’s her nickname for herself, sits at the kitchen table with her noise-cancelling headphones on, click clacking on her laptop.
Call My Bluff: A Las Vegas Themed Anthology Page 41