“Well. You better let me get off this phone then,” she says and I smile.
“But I like the sound of your voice,” I say. There is something very lovely about talking to her like this, knowing that she’s in the next room.
“Bye, Mr. Bossy,” she says and I hear the phone click.
I’m just about to slip out of bed to freshen up a little myself when there’s a soft knock at the door.
“Door is open,” I call, and then she’s there like a ray of sunshine on a dull and cloudy day.
“Hey,” she says. “You rang!”
I smirk because I seem to have fucked some sass into her and I like it. “Are you trying to be smart, little miss Jessie? Because smart girls need a firm hand.”
Her beautiful sky blue eyes flash at me. “A firm hand?” I nod, as she walks closer, seemingly unconcerned about my hand and its potential firmness. “I’m not that interested in the hand,” she says. “I’m interested in the excitement.”
“Ah… the lady wants to know about my exciting plans?”
She takes a seat on the edge of the bed and smiles. “Well, that is how you lured me back into your lair,” she laughs.
“My lair?”
She raises her eyebrows as if to say, ‘get on with it, Ryan,’ so I do.
“We’re going out of town for a while,” I say.
“Where?” she asks.
“Well… a few different places. First stop is Las Vegas. The rest you will have to wait and see.”
“Las Vegas,” she says with so much excitement in her voice I want to hug her.
“Yeah, baby,” I say. Sin City seems like the perfect place for me to start to let my hair down.
“So I need to go pack?”
“I’ll send Geraldine to take care of it,” I say. “She’ll know what you need and we can always pick up anything you’re missing as we go.”
“Okay.” She looks uncertain and I have to remind myself that she’s not used to having people do things for her.
“Geraldine is an experienced assistant with extensive styling experience. You’ll have everything you need, Jessie.” I take her hand and slip my fingers between hers, pulling it up to my mouth and kissing it gently. Her lids lower and her breathing changes. “You don’t need to worry about a thing now,” I say.
“For twenty-seven more days,” she says softly.
Fuck. The deadline is creeping closer. Less than a month now. I’m determined to make this a month for her to remember for the rest of her life.
“Let’s make them the best twenty-seven days ever.”
She swallows and nods and then leans forward to kiss me. It’s soft and sweet and chaste but I still feel it my balls. I could fuck her again right now, but she’s fresh and we don’t really have time to do it justice. Waiting to indulge in your favorite treat only makes it sweeter, at least, in my experience.
“Shall I send for breakfast,” I say, all the while gently kissing her lips.
“Uh huh,” she says, sliding in a little closer.
“How hungry are you?” I ask.
“Pretty damn hungry.”
“Tell me what you want, Jessie. Anything and I’ll get it for you.”
“Anything?” she teases.
“Anything your heart desires.”
She looks thoughtful. “Well. I do have a thing for Eggs Benedict.”
“Your wish is my command.” I reach for the phone and put her order into the kitchen.
“Coffee,” she mouths while I’m ordering my own breakfast. Pancakes, just the way Jessie had them. They are certainly not what I’d usually indulge in. My personal trainer would have a coronary, but I find that I don’t give a fuck right now.
“Anything else, princess?”
She purses her lips in mock disgust. “Chocolate covered strawberries,” she suggests. “And French toast.”
“Yes ma’am.”
She grins as I tell the kitchen. When I hang up she shakes her head. “You could literally tell them anything and they’d deliver it, wouldn’t they?”
“Of course,” I say.
“But what if they didn’t have strawberries?” Jessie asks.
“They’d send out for them.”
“But wouldn’t that take a long time?”
“Donovan is very fast on his motorcycle,” I laugh.
“Wow.” Jessie shakes her head.
“It’ll be served in fifteen minutes,” I tell her. “Why don’t you go and finish getting ready then we can eat here while Nolan organizes the car?”
She agrees and after she’s left I make a quick phone call to Geraldine.
With everything in motion, all that I need to do it take a shower myself. I’m dressed by the time Jessie returns looking absolutely gorgeous in a floral maxi dress and gold sandals. She’s braided her hair loosely to one side and looks perfectly bohemian. We eat the breakfast that is delivered to my suite while Jessie asks questions about Las Vegas. It seems to be a place she always wanted to visit but has never had the chance. I don’t tell her that we’re going to stay in my hotel because she doesn’t need to know. All she needs is for me to show her a good time. The next twenty-seven days are going to be all about escapism, and when it’s done I know that the memories will keep us both company.
We ride to the airport with Darryl and Freddie, my security team. Jessie’s been unaware of them since her arrival but I’ve been reckless with our safety. No more. This woman is my responsibility and I’m going to take the best care of her while I can.
My jet is waiting on the tarmac and we are in the air so quickly I can tell that Jessie is a bit overwhelmed. Champagne in hand we sit side by side. She’s quiet but I don’t press for conversation. I know what it’s like to need the space to just be in your own thoughts.
I’ve always been a nervous flier and my team knows this. The jet is set up to help me avoid triggers. I sit without a view of a window. Soft classical music plays that my hypnotist has used as a trigger to make me feel calm. The pilot won’t make any announcements unless it’s an emergency. I try not to show any visible signs of my anxiety. I grip the seat beneath me on the side furthest away from Jessie and use it as my anchor.
When we near McCarran airport she moves to take a seat near a window. “Look, Ryan.” Her hand reaches out to wave me over. “Look!”
I know what it looks like from looking at magazines. The landscape is beautiful because of its barrenness. “I know,” I say softly. “You enjoy.”
“It’s amazing,” she says. “Nothing as far as the eye can see and then…”
“You wait until we’re on the ground,” I tell her. I know a lot of people who find Las Vegas tacky, but there is nowhere else like it in the world.
The scale.
The drama.
The sheer excess.
I love it for all the reasons some people hate it and I’m hoping Jessie will too.
We’re transported by limousine to the hotel. I spend a lot of the journey looking out the window, noting what has changed since I was last here. A new hotel has been completed. Extensions to others. A big refurbishment. Nothing stays the same. Jessie sits close, also gazing out of the window. I hold her hand in mine because it just feels right and she doesn’t object so it’s all good.
As the limo pulls in my personal concierge appears immediately to arrange for our luggage to be taken to my suite and to greet Jessie and me. She’s so gracious, eyes wide, taking in the spectacle of the hotel entrance and the vastness of the casino floor.
Crawford’s. I adopted a new name when I started my company. Something more serious than Gosling.
It’s bright inside; something I made sure of when I was working with the designer. Bright and exciting. Gambling doesn’t have to be seedy and dingy. Jessie looks towards reception as though she’s expecting us to stand in line. When we breeze through towards the elevators she seems confused.
“Don’t we need a key?”
I pull a key card out of my pocket and she shakes her head.
“How did you manage that?” she asks.
“Wait and see,” I say.
The elevator is so fast that my ears pop and I see Jessie reaching for hers. “Which floor are we on?” she asks.
“Top,” I say. Her eyes widen. “Isn’t that where the most expensive rooms are?”
“You don’t need to worry about that kind of thing,” I say.
She seems to study me. “This hotel is stunning. There is something familiar about it.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“There is something about it that reminds me of your home.”
I shake my head because this girl is so perceptive. I used the same designer for my residence as I did for the hotel and they were completed within a few months of each other so it isn’t really surprising that there are similarities between the décor. What is surprising is that Jessie has picked up on it.
“Mmmm,” I say in a non-committal way. It’s not so much that I don’t want her to know that this is my hotel. I’m not worried about her finding out about the extent of my wealth. In the days of google nothing is secret. I guess I just want to be able to relax here without her looking at everything through different eyes. Right now we’re just guests and I like that.
When the doors open I hear her intake of breath. It is spectacular up here. Everything you would expect from the hallway to the most exclusive of suites. I take her hand and walk us quickly down the hallway to the entrance to mine. Inside the first thing you see is the view down the strip. It’s spectacular from this height and with the floor to ceiling windows framing it perfectly.
“Oh my god,” she gasps and then she’s off. She doesn’t seem to take in anything about the gorgeous living space that still almost takes my breath away. She stands so close to the window I feel a little woozy. I’m not good with flying and I’m worse with heights. I know it seems ridiculous to have a penthouse with vertigo, but it’s expected when you’re the owner and if I stay away from the edge I’m okay. “Get over here,” Jessie gasps, turning and frantically waving me over.
“You’re okay,” I say. “I’ve seen it before.”
Jessie narrows her eyes thoughtfully. “Are you scared of heights, Mr. Bossy?”
I can’t help but smile slightly. If she’s not careful I might have to put her over my knee and really show her how bossy I can be. “Not scared as such, Miss Sassy.”
Jessie smirks. “So if we’re not going to be gazing out of the window at the amazing view, what are we going to do while we’re here?”
I raise my right eyebrow. Fuck. There are so many things I could do to this woman. So many she wouldn’t know what’s hit her. We could stay hold up in this suite for days, and while that seems like a pretty tempting option, sex isn’t the only thing I want to be doing with our remaining time together. I have things to tick off my list and we’re going to start right now.
“Get your purse, Jessie. We’ve got plans.”
15
JESSIE
I don’t know what I’m expecting from Ryan but it certainly isn’t what happens next.
We take a moment to freshen up and then we’re going down in the elevator so fast my stomach rises and my ears pop. The limo is waiting outside the hotel and the driver seems to know where we’re going because Ryan doesn’t say a word. Darryl and Freddie are there like two mountains of men. I feel safe with them with us but also strangely on edge. We cruise along the strip pretty slowly because there is traffic but that’s okay with me. I get to take in all the weird and wonderful sights again and love watching all the people milling around.
I keep thinking we’re going to stop as we pass yet another hotel. Is he taking me to a show? I have no idea. When we pull up to New York, New York I look at him quizzically.
He grins so widely that he immediately looks like a younger, cheeky version of himself. “Ready to ride the Manhattan Express Rollercoaster, Jessie?”
Oh my god. Is he serious? “Hell, yeah,” I squeal. Ryan has no idea but I love rides. The crazier the better.
“Come on then.”
We head into the hotel and follow signs to where we can board the rollercoaster. My heart is thudding in a good way and Ryan holds my hand tightly the whole time. I tell him about the rides I’ve been on in the past and then ask him if he’s done anything like this before.
He shakes his head. “Always been too busy focusing on business,” he says. There’s no real regret in his voice, it’s just a statement of fact, but I feel sad for him
“All work and no play makes Ryan a dull boy,” I say jokily.
He smiles and kisses my lips. “I’m trying to change all that, Jessie.”
“Well, this is a pretty good start.”
When we reach the front, the man responsible for boarding the riders ushers us to the front. It seems Ryan has it all organized. The most thrilling place to be when you ride any rollercoaster is the first row of seats. I guess when he decides to do something, he does it properly.
We only have to wait a minute or so while the other passengers are boarded. Just before the ride begins, Ryan reaches down and gives my hand a squeeze. It’s like the gesture is spontaneously repeated in my chest. It’s hard to link this man who wants to do crazy childish things with the serious man who came to The Kitty Cat Club and took me driving along the coast. I feel like I’ve peeled away his tough outer shell and now I can see his softer inner self. I like this Ryan. It’s stupid for me to make assumptions but I feel like this side of him is the real Ryan. The rest feels like an act that he’s perfected to get where he has in the world.
As we shoot off at speed I keep looking over at him. His smile is wide, his eyes bright. He whoops so loudly when we hit a big bump that I laugh out loud and as we make our way round the outside of the huge hotel, sometimes plummeting from a height, sometimes spinning upside down, I feel immensely privileged that Ryan has chosen me to do this with.
He asked me to be his companion. I thought it was a rich man’s way of softening his actual intensions into something more palatable. Now I’m here with him I understand what he really intended. He wanted some company while he let down his hair and the thought that he didn’t have anyone else to do this with makes me feel so sad for him. I’ve heard it said that it gets lonely as you climb the ladder. It seems to be true in Ryan’s case.
I scream loudly because I want him to know how amazing this experience is for me. I want him to know that I appreciate everything that we’ve done so far. I’m getting paid so much money to be here next to him but the longer we spend together the less the money feels like a real factor.
And as I think that I feel like a fool.
I’m getting sentimental. I’m thinking about this situation in ways that have probably never crossed Ryan’s mind. This is a transaction for him and nothing else. My presence is a convenience and as hard as it is to keep that in mind, I really need to.
My hair is a windswept mess when we clamber off the ride but I don’t care.
“Let’s go,” he says and grins again.
“Where to now, boss?” I ask as he grabs my hand and starts to practically powerwalk across the casino floor.
“This was just an appetizer, baby,” he says, sporting that huge grin again. His gray eyes sparkle as he glances back at me and I giggle in a way that I haven’t for a very long time. It’s a bubbling of happiness that comes from deep inside. A carefree hopeful sound that rings in my ears.
“Tell me,” I plead but he’s having none of it. He obviously likes surprising me.
We get back in the limo and then we’re off in the other direction. More traffic to plow through. More people-watching to do. Ryan’s phone rings while we’re on route and he looks at the screen but doesn’t answer. I wonder who is trying to get hold of him and why he might be avoiding the call but I don’t feel like I can ask him.
It strikes me as crazy how sometimes we can share our bodies with someone but not feel okay to share our minds and our hearts. Why is it that those
parts of us feel so much more private and vulnerable than the most intimate physical parts of ourselves?
The call seems to steal some of Ryan’s exuberance but as we get closer to the Stratosphere his eyes begin to shine again. He pushes a button and a huge panoramic sunroof begins to open above us. “Here,” he says, standing and holding out his hand. I feel completely ridiculous standing up in a car with my head poking out of the roof, but if it’s okay for Ryan then it’s okay for me.
The wind whisks my hair around like a tornado and I have to clutch the side of the car roof to stay stable, but it’s amazing to drive up to such a tall, skinny, iconic building and be able to look directly up at it. I know we’re getting stared at but Ryan doesn’t seem to give a damn. He grabs my hand and kisses it, then he tells me to look up at the very top.
There are rides up there.
Right at the very top.
I can see people’s legs dangling as the mechanisms throw themselves out over the edge of the building.
I’m as much of a daredevil as the next person but this is well out of my comfort zone.
I don’t know how to tell Ryan.
“You want to go up there?” I ask him.
He cranes his head to look up and then turns to me. “No,” he says plainly. “Going up there is going to scare the living shit out of me, but I need to do it.”
“Trying to conquer your fear?”
He shakes his head. “Not exactly,” he says but doesn’t elaborate. I want to know so I can understand his motivations. I want to know why so I can decide whether this is something I need to push myself to do with him or whether I can ask to sit this one out. I don’t think he’s the kind of man to force me to do something I don’t want to do. In fact, I know he’s not.
This seems like a really big thing for him.
At the top of the Stratosphere Hotel is a revolving restaurant that allows you to take in the three-hundred-and-sixty degree view of Las Vegas in all its glory. There is also a viewing area for those who want the view but don’t want to sit and eat through it.
On the very roof are the rides that scare me in a way I’ve never been scared before.
Being thrown off a ride a few feet from the ground is one thing. Dropping out of one that is over a thousand feet in the air is something else. I know that the chances of that happening are really slight. The odds are in my favor whatever I do. That doesn’t make me feel any better, though.
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