by Nell Stark
No. Keep it together. You have nothing to hide. Not when it comes to yesterday, at least.
“Good morning, Steve,” she said, proud her voice remained steady.
“Vesper, I need you in my office right away.”
“Of course.” She disconnected the call and rose from her chair. As she walked past her coworkers’ cubicles, she couldn’t help but wonder whether this would be the last time she saw her cubicle. If she had to start over at a different casino, how would that work? Had she built up enough cachet to be hired as a host, or would she have to take a step back and return to the floor of the pit? The thought made her stomach roll queasily. She had worked so hard to move up the ladder; the last thing she wanted was to be forced down a rung.
Not wanting to run into any familiar faces, she took the stairs instead of the elevator. The mild exertion helped to burn off some of her adrenaline, and she felt her head begin to clear. If Steve fired her and she had to start over somewhere else, she would be fine. She had done it before; she could do it again. No matter what, she would always be fine.
She turned into his office suite without breaking stride and paused before his secretary’s desk. “Good morning, Hannah.”
Hannah didn’t look up from her screen. Her elaborately manicured nails clacked loudly against the keyboard. “You can go back.”
“Thank you.” Vesper curbed the impulse to roll her eyes. Hannah was only the most recent in a long string of Steve’s nubile secretaries. He seemed to have three criteria: youth, waifishness, and haughtiness. By that standard, Hannah was the most successful yet.
Steve shared the suite with Valhalla’s CEO and CFO, neither of whom she had ever met. Until she landed a whale, she probably never would. Priscilla Beauregard might be her golden ticket, but unless she survived this meeting with her job intact, she wouldn’t have the chance to find out. The prospect of having to give up her best chance at breaking into the big leagues, all because of Biz’s misogynistic harassment, sent a hot wave of anger beneath her skin. She hung on to the feeling as she knocked at Steve’s door. Anger was infinitely more useful than fear.
“Vesper.” To her surprise, Steve rose and came around his desk to shake her hand. “Let’s sit at the conference table.”
Hoping she hadn’t betrayed her confusion, Vesper took the seat he pulled out for her. Their previous meetings had all been conducted across the expanse of polished mahogany separating him from whatever riffraff might chance to come through the door. Why was she suddenly being given a seat at the table, especially given what had happened yesterday?
Once they were seated, he clasped his hands. “So. I hear we had a little problem last night.”
She didn’t know why he was beating around the bush, but she wasn’t about to join him. “If by ‘problem’ you mean ‘a of case sexual harassment,’ then yes.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, about that. I’d like to avoid any unpleasantness.”
“As the target of Biz’s remarks, I can tell you they were both unpleasant and unavoidable.”
Her defensiveness must have come through loud and clear, because he raised one hand in a placating gesture. “No one’s debating that. His driver last night said as much.”
Vesper offered up a silent thank-you to Jeremy and vowed to get him an especially nice Christmas present. But as the awkward silence dragged on, her anger flared again. Was he really going to make her do all of the heavy lifting in this conversation? What was he afraid of—that she would sue Biz and drag Valhalla through the mire somehow? A lawsuit might have been tempting, but hiring a lawyer was expensive, and her savings account was the product of many years of scraping.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Steve. He verbally harassed me for hours, touched my thigh, backed me into a corner, and tried to kiss me. None of that is acceptable.”
Her candidness made him visibly tense. “Look. Vesper. Theodore Hamilton and I spoke earlier this morning, and he made it clear how highly he thinks of you.” He paused then, probably wanting her to ask for details or toot her own horn. Instead, she stared at him silently, waiting. After a long pause, his Adam’s apple bobbed in a hard swallow. “He’s disappointed that one of his colleagues acted so callously while under the influence.”
Vesper heard what he wasn’t saying: that Biz had been drunk and should therefore be forgiven for not having been himself. Well, bullshit. Drunk people rarely acted in ways that were truly out of character. If anything, they became more honest, more essential. The essential Biz was an asshole—of that she had no doubt. If Steve wanted to convince himself otherwise, that was his problem.
“What do you intend to do about it?” A part of Vesper couldn’t believe the words that were leaving her mouth, but the rest of her finally felt vindicated. She was speaking up for herself, taking her needs into her own hands. The sensation felt oddly like flying, and the rush made her bold. “I’ll happily transfer Biz’s account to whomever you choose, of course.”
“That’s not what he wants.”
“Why should I care about what he wants?” Vesper fired back.
“He’s your client.”
Vesper sat back in her chair and stared at him. There it was—the bottom line. “You’ve never been sexually harassed, have you, Steve?” When he began to bluster, she cut him off. “Fine. I’ll accept his apology and make all of this go away. Water under the bridge. On one condition: get me that six million in credit for Priscilla Beauregard.”
“Vesper…”
“She’s not going to use it all. And even if she does, she’s good for it. Give me the line, and before you know it, you’ll have her and her three best friends in here rolling up a storm at craps. Her friends will tell their friends. We both know how this works.”
Steve laced his fingers together and rested them on the table, revealing platinum cufflinks in the shape of the Wall Street bull. They had probably cost a small fortune. “If you’re wrong about this, you’re out.”
The flash of triumph felt all the sweeter after the uproar of the past twelve hours, and Vesper let it show on her face. “I’m not wrong.” She pushed back her chair. “Are we finished?”
“We are.” He stood and offered his hand. “Take care.”
As she left the office, Vesper wondered whether he had meant the words as a generic farewell or a warning. Then she realized it didn’t matter. So what if she was stuck with Biz? She could handle him now. She had proved as much last night. With a green light for Priscilla’s account, she finally had the harpoon she needed to go whale hunting.
This was her once-in-a-lifetime chance. If she succeeded, she would enter the ranks of the elite casino hosts. If she failed, she would have to start over somewhere else. But she wasn’t going to fail. Her weakness last night had been a temporary insanity born of stress—nothing more. Nothing in her past or present would interfere with her goals. She would make sure of it.
Nothing.
*
Nova folded her hand and rubbed at her eyes. Maybe this had been a mistake. She had been woken three hours earlier by housekeeping’s knock on the door, chagrined to discover that the bedroom was empty and it was past nine o’clock. A quick shower and a cup of coffee hadn’t done much to clear her head, which felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton balls. Between the late-night drinking and lack of sleep, she was a mess—not to mention her worry over Vesper’s whereabouts and emotional state.
Twice, she had almost called before deciding she would seem too pushy. Or clingy. Or both. Vesper was working. At least, Nova hoped she was. Since taking a seat in the poker hall, she had been on the lookout, even going so far as to deliberately choose a chair with a view of the door. Had Vesper’s boss called her on the carpet? Was Biz trying to press charges? Or had it all blown over, and she was simply having a busy day?
All Nova knew for sure was that she was distracted and playing like crap. She hadn’t taken a single day off since she’d arrived at Valhalla. Maybe what she needed was to go
upstairs, take a dip in the pool, and try to nap for a while. Anything would be more productive than losing money to tourists.
A warm, heavy hand fell on her shoulder—the same shoulder Vesper had touched last night. “Hey, Nova.”
She looked up and felt the surprise register on her face. “TJ. Hey.” His other hand hung at his side, a bandage over the knuckles. “You all right?”
“Yeah, of course. It’s nothing.” He rolled his eyes. “Amelia made me promise I’d leave the damn thing on for the day.”
“I’m glad you’re okay.” Nova patted the seat next to hers. “Want to play a few?”
He shook his head. “Actually, I’m sorry to interrupt, but…can we talk?”
This time, she tried to keep a lid on her surprise. “Sure.” She signaled the dealer that she was out for a few hands and rose from her seat. “Can I buy you a drink? Or coffee?”
“I’m buying. And definitely the latter.” He grimaced. “Not quite ready for the hair of the dog, yet.”
“Sorry. I know it’s painful.”
An awkward silence stretched between them as they entered the lobby. Her best guess was that he wanted to talk about Vesper. Nova wondered just how much he knew of her story. She would have to figure that out carefully, without revealing any of the details Vesper had entrusted to her confidence.
He led her to a table near the corner of the small café area. After giving the server their orders, he rested his elbows on the rickety surface and leaned forward. “Have you heard from Vesper today?”
Nova shook her head. “You?”
“No.” He frowned and began to pick at the edge of his bandage. “Did she get home okay? I remember hearing you say…at least, I thought…”
“She ended up staying in my suite becau—”
“You spent the night together?” TJ hissed.
“No!” Nova lowered her voice when a nearby couple glanced at them in curiosity. “No. She slept in the bed. I slept on the couch. Nothing happened. Nothing’s going on.”
“But you want there to be.” It wasn’t a question.
Nova didn’t know whether to laugh or get angry. Did TJ think he was Vesper’s matchmaker, her bodyguard, or an unlikely combination of both? “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Because I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Why not?” He flashed a self-deprecating smile. “I was in love with her too, once.”
That was interesting enough that Nova didn’t bother to correct him about her own feelings. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Made a fool of myself the second time I was in Vegas.”
“How old were you?”
“Nineteen.” He laughed dryly. “Every day, I would present her with some stupid gift. A dozen roses. A pair of earrings from the store.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of Valhalla’s shopping gallery. “Unoriginal stuff like that.”
“Hey. A dozen roses are classic.” Nova patted his hand, not knowing what else to say.
He shrugged. “Finally, she had mercy and told me the truth.”
“The truth?”
Alarm made his eyes widen. “You mean you don’t know?”
Nova had to make a snap decision that he was talking about Vesper’s sexual orientation and nothing else. “That she prefers women? Yes.”
Relief made his shoulders slump. “Thank God. For a second there, I thought I’d broken my promise.”
Their coffees arrived then, and Nova waited until the server left before replying. “I’m sure she knows you wouldn’t betray her trust. I get the impression she hasn’t told many people.” When he looked at her quizzically, she added, “I figured it out myself, and she didn’t seem happy at all.”
“You figured it out?” He whistled lowly. “That’s impressive. I had no idea. You must be really good at reading people.”
Nova laughed. “I’m awful at it. Good at math. Bad at human beings.”
“You’re seriously trying to tell me that gaydar, or whatever, isn’t about reading people?”
“I guess it is.” Nova sipped at her coffee, considering. “But it’s very specific. Attraction is gravity, right? Bodies being pulled into orbit, or slingshotted away. You’re a good-looking guy, TJ, but there’s no gravity between us.”
“There is between you and Vesper.”
Nova wanted to believe he was right. She also didn’t want to admit it. “Why are you so invested in her?”
He spread his hands in the air, palms up. “Not sure I can totally explain it. Maybe it’s because she was the first person to really treat me like an adult when that was all I wanted. Or because she’s the first woman I fell for. Or because underneath all that competence and elegance, she just seems so…so sad sometimes.”
Nova nodded slowly. She had one answer, at least: unless TJ was bluffing, he had no idea about Vesper’s past. Nova wished she could tell him how impressive it was that he had picked up on her deeply buried melancholy without knowing the cause. He was the one who was good at reading people.
“You know her better than I do,” she said, even as she wondered whether that was true. Regardless, the conversation had strayed into dangerous territory. It was time for a change of topic, and turnabout was fair play. “And since you know she’s off the market, what do you think of Amelia?”
TJ huffed and looked down at the tabletop, fingers straying back to the bandage on his right hand. “She’s been one of my best friends since freshman year.”
“And?”
“And that’s it.” His tone was defensive, his jaw suddenly tight.
Nova studied him for a long moment. She didn’t need any interpersonal skills to tell that her question had shaken him. “Feels like gravity to me, my friend,” she said gently.
“Well, don’t you two look as thick as thieves.”
The soprano voice, melodious with amusement, pulled Nova’s head around so quickly her vision blurred. When it cleared, Vesper was standing before them, polished and resplendent in a gray suit. The jacket was an off-the-shoulder cut that revealed the delicate contours of her collarbone in sharp relief against her pale skin. Nova felt her mouth open, but no sound emerged. Fortunately, TJ spoke for both of them.
“V!” he exclaimed in clear delight. Then, mindful of their public location, he lowered his voice. “How are you doing? Do you want to sit? Here, take my seat.”
When Vesper rested one hand on his arm as he tried to stand, Nova felt a stab of jealousy that she was touching him instead of her. Clearly, she was going insane.
“Relax. I just came from a conversation with the casino manager. Everything’s fine.” Vesper must have noticed his bandage, then, because her smile suddenly vanished. “How’s your hand?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Really.” He held it up between them and clenched a fist. When the bandage got in the way, he moved to rip it off.
“Don’t even think about it.” Nova pointed a finger at him and tried to look severe. “Certain people will be very unhappy with you.”
As a flush began to creep up from his neck, he pushed back his chair. “You really should sit. I need to go anyway. I just…” He paused, looming above her. “Are you okay? Like, really okay? In terms of your job and…everything?”
When Vesper’s smile remerged, Nova felt her stomach flip. “Never better. I promise. And thank you for standing up for me last night.” She arched one perfectly manicured brow. “Though if your father didn’t read you the riot act about throwing punches—”
TJ’s expression soured. “Believe me, he did. I know it was idiotic. And you didn’t need me anyway. You handled that asshole just fine by yourself.”
“Still, I appreciate the sentiment. Just not the violence.” She checked her watch. “And yes, you should go if you’re going to make it to the go-cart place in time for your reservation.”
“Damn, forgot about that!” He kissed Vesper swiftly on the cheek. “Thanks. See you later.” Nova watched him hustle away, mostly because she knew that as soon as she gave Vesper
her undivided attention, she would have trouble breathing. “He turns into a puppy around you,” she said, meeting Vesper’s gaze only once the words were out of her mouth.
“He’s a good kid.” She perched lightly on the chair. “Man. He’s a man, now.”
Her body language was clear even to Nova; she wasn’t planning to stay long. Wanting to keep her talking, she said the first thing that came to mind. “Sounds like you’ve watched that transformation happen, over the years.”
That got her attention. “What has TJ been telling you?”
“That he was madly in love with you when he was younger.”
Her lips curved slightly. “It was just an infatuation. He’ll learn the difference someday.” In another heartbeat, her expression grew serious. “And what have you been telling him?”
“Nothing.” Nova wanted to reach for her hand but knew she couldn’t. “You can trust me, Vesper.”
Vesper searched her eyes. “Thank you,” she said finally, though she sounded more apprehensive than relieved. “And thank you for being there yesterday.”
“You meant what you said to TJ? No negative repercussions?”
“The opposite, actually.”
“Oh?” Nova was intrigued by the energy that suddenly crackled around her. Had something good come of this mess? “Do you get to be the one to kick Biz out of the casino, I hope?”
“No. But he’s going to formally apologize.” She looked around the room furtively and then leaned in closer. “And in return for dropping the issue, I got what I needed to entice a new client here.”
Nova didn’t know how to respond to that. Vesper was letting Biz get away with a slap on the wrist in order to make some kind of trade? He had harassed her. An apology was the very tip of the iceberg. He should have spent the night in prison, or at least be barred from Valhalla. With Vesper still his host, he would have far too much access to her. What was to stop him from harassing her again, and possibly even hurting her?