by Nina Barrett
He rubbed the back of his neck. He and Ron had outlined the scam to Gentleman Jim in his penthouse last night as the older man had sat transfixed, scarcely breathing.
“The totals are entered into the computer. It’s a good part of the compensation our employees work for. Two supervisors are supposed to be present whenever money is counted.”
“Supposed to.”
“Yeah.” He leaned forward. “I always thought it odd the way Brielle stuck up for Ron. It bugged me that she didn’t seem to resent the extra work he was sticking her with. She never campaigned for his job or tried to get him fired. And, believe me, that would have been a possibility. No, she was always willing to fill in for him when he cut out early or was unavailable to do something.”
She nodded.
“We all know Ron’s been dealing with a lot—the loss of his son, problems in his marriage, and the fact he didn’t get the job he thought he ought to. He assumed when the Imperial reopened he would be assistant manager like he had been at the Outpost. Only Dolores, who’d been head of housekeeping somewhere else, was clearly the superior candidate. About a month ago, I blew up during a staff meeting and really landed on him. He’d been letting a lot of things slide.” That had been right after the last time he’d gone rock climbing, then stored his equipment in his room at the Imperial.
“I should have handled the situation privately. I did apologize to Ron when I cooled off. But Brielle always stuck up for him. She didn’t want him fired and us bringing someone else in to take his place. She was using the situation. If I were discredited or injured and out of action, it would keep their scam going. She’d pick up the chips from Niemeyer and switch them out for cash from the tip drop boxes when Ron cut out early and she did the accounting by herself.
“She even knew enough about where the camera in the count room was located that she could casually block the angle of coverage. The tallies always looked problem free and she could manipulate the chip totals in the machines so we didn’t catch on that the machines were paying off in excess as to what they should.”
“I can’t believe it. She seemed so quiet, kind of shy.”
“Everyone thought she was great. She had her own cheering section. I think that was part of the racket they were working. Together, they could bleed off a couple thousand a week as long as Ron wasn’t hanging around to supervise the count. I put in a call to Joe last night to come over to service the machines today. We caught him leaving, chips concealed in his toolbox. Right now, he and Brielle are down at headquarters in a race to rat each other out.”
“She seemed familiar to me. Maybe I ran into her at Lotsa Slots.”
He stretched and grimaced. “It’s been a long couple days.”
“I didn’t make it any easier on you, did I?”
“What’s going on, Cinna? I stepped into something when I stopped by the shop yesterday. I thought things went well Saturday night. Except for the part where the heavens opened and we almost drowned.”
“I had some questions. I have some questions, Tom, about Saturday night. About the tea you made me. And what happened afterward.” Her voice shook.
“Tea?” Where the hell was that coming from? He stared at her.
“You know, the cup you left on the bedside table while I was in the shower.”
So it wasn’t up to her specifications?
“I thought you could use something warm to drink after being out in that mess.”
She took a breath, lifted her chin, and looked at him squarely. “So what was it? Did you use our leftover Celestial Harmony blend?”
“What?”
“You know, the tea from our shop that caused all the problems during the darts tournament.”
“What? No, Cinna.”
“Well, it tasted strange.”
“It was just out of my kitchen. I used a regular teabag and the microwave.”
“The microwave!” Her voice rose. “You used a regular teabag and the microwave?”
Hell, what was she mad about?
“It was some I bought when I wanted iced tea last summer. It was from the grocery store. Cinna, I don’t need any help to seduce you.”
Her eyes widened. Good, that was the reaction he wanted to see.
“It was just ordinary supermarket tea, the kind that comes in the box with the old sea captain on it. Did you think or feel different afterward?”
“I thought.” She took a deep breath and began again. “I was so groggy when I woke up and I thought, well, that something had happened with us. Between us, you know. I had really wild dreams about you that I thought were real. But then Mags told me you were at the Imperial that night.”
“I left a note on the kitchen counter to say I was going over to the Imperial to check on things. Then I swapped the Jag for my SUV and made it through.”
“I didn’t see the note. Everything felt strange when I woke up Sunday morning. I just grabbed my things and got out of there.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“You were confused when you woke up? Felt different than usual?”
“Totally different. I was groggy, disoriented. I couldn’t think clearly. It was like I was hung over, but I really hadn’t had that much to drink.”
Yeah, drinking. He paused to think.
“Do you remember what you did just before we left the convention center? When you got up to go? You reached over—”
“And took a sip of champagne from your glass, right. I’d already finished mine.”
“It was still full because I don’t drink. And Brielle had moved over to sit beside you when Dolores and I went up to get the award. I saw her when we were walking back.”
“You think she put something in your drink, Tom? That she tried to drug you?”
“She was definitely interested in getting me in trouble or out of the way.” He flexed his hands. “I need to talk to the police about it.”
“Oh, God.” She slumped forward, resting her head in her hands for a long instant before sitting up. “There’s something else I’ve been blaming you for, too.” She made a face. “Rosemary had a baby after you two broke up.”
“She did?” His head jerked. “Cinna, it wasn’t mine.”
“I know. She just told me yesterday when I got on her about being friendly to you. I couldn’t understand her being nice to you after how you’d treated her. I thought you had run off and left her.”
“It wasn’t about that.”
“She told me she’d fallen for you, but then she realized it was our family that was the real attraction for you. Her pride was hurt and she got involved with some creepy ex-teacher of ours. Anyway, she put the baby up for adoption and got on with her life. She’s actually in a pretty good place now. I think Ed might be the guy for her.”
“It wasn’t your family, as nice as they were, Cinna.” The room was growing dark, faint streetlight filtering in through the blinds. “I had to make up something, some excuse. At a real awkward time, I came out with your name. It was hard to explain why I was calling someone on the verge of giving herself to me by her kid sister’s name. I’m not sure what I said.” He gave a quick smile. “Probably something as stupid as the way I asked you for a date last week.”
“Me?”
“Always, Cinna. I couldn’t very well tell the terrific girl I was dating I was hung up on her teenaged sister, that I wanted her in the worse way.
“I still do, Cinnamon.”
“I just…” Her voice trailed off before she drew a deep breath. “I had a puppy love crush on you back then. I thought you were honest and nice and smart and funny and then you left. I was so angry. It seems like I’ve been angry ever since.”
He stood, pulling his shirt out and unbuttoning it, letting it fall open. She stared at his chest.
“Your dreams the other night, did they include this?”
His chest gleamed white in the light from the street; the emergency room bandages securely wrapped around it from his waist upwar
d.
She looked at him mutely.
“A little souvenir from a fall I took rock-climbing Saturday. There was a problem with my equipment. Halfway up, the rope I was using gave way. The inside strands had been cut. Fortunately, I was able to swing myself onto a rock ledge and wait there for rescue. A couple park rangers climbed up to where I was and stabilized me enough so I could get down and be taken to the E.R.”
“Oh, God, Tom.” He captured her fingers in his as she held out her hand.
“It’s just a couple cracked ribs. Believe me, I’ve had worse. My rope is in the possession of the LVPD now, and hopefully, they can use it to sweat the truth out of Miss Brielle Bennett. My climbing equipment was stored in a room here so there are a limited number of people who had access to it.
“But now, Cinnamon.” He drew her up to face him. Except for the streetlight outside, the room was dark.
“Tell me about your dreams,” he ordered.
“I was naked,” she said. “That robe I’d put on was laying on the floor.”
He caught his breath.
She reached behind her. There was the sound of a zipper descending as her dress cascaded to the floor, followed by her bra. Her breasts were white mounds in the dimness.
“Completely?”
She kicked her sandals off and slid her underpants down. She stood to release her tumble of hair, tossing the barrette on the couch.
“Oh, Cinnamon.” He undid his pants, pushed his shorts down, and sat.
“Oh, Cinnamon.” He caught her hand and pulled her in, straddling her legs over the arms of the chair and onto him. He cupped her face in his hands and said the last coherent words he could manage.
“I’m so sorry, my darling. I love you and I can’t wait.”
****
She gasped, burying her head in his neck as he pulled her in, lowering her as her legs parted. She had thought after all those years she was ready for him, but that confidence disappeared in the strength of his thrust as he entered her, wrapping his arms around her, pressing her down as he filled her.
She’d never had sex like this. She was lost. Captured, swept away in sensations, unable, unwilling to escape. She was drowning, abandoning all sense of who she was, screaming for release and breathless simultaneously.
It continued. On and on past enduring. What was she but some naked body desperate for deliverance? Her fingers dug in his shoulders as she moved with him working for satisfaction. She had to find it before she shattered into pieces.
She came first, her head sagging against him, damp with sweat as he possessed her. Then he was quiet, his chest heaving under its bandages, his hands traveling slowly, caressing their way down her back.
Some time later, she was roused out of her stupor enough to realize he was carrying her into the bedroom, undressing, and lying down beside her, covering her with kisses and pulling her to him where she belonged.
Chapter Thirteen
She woke up to find him lying on his side, propped up on an elbow, watching her, heavy lids shading his hazel eyes.
“Good morning.”
“Hi.” She wiggled under the tangled sheet, bare skin against the cotton.
“Here.” He reached over to free her. “Okay? So how did you sleep?” He pulled a curl out from behind her ear and traced a line down her cheek.
“Oh, great, well, you know.” She stretched, her nipples teasing the top of the sheet.
“Better than your first night here?”
“Much better.” Then she had awoken half-drugged with whatever Brielle had slipped into the champagne, heartsick about what she thought Tom had done.
His fingers found her lips, playing with her full lower one.
“Tom.”
“Cinnamon.” He planted a lazy kiss on her shoulder bone.
“We need to talk about last night. We ah…weren’t exactly careful, you know.”
“No.” He straightened back up. “I don’t think the word careful has anything to do with what happened.”
“We didn’t take any precautions. I’m not on the pill or anything.”
“And you think you might be expecting our first?”
“It’s a possibility, isn’t it? I’m not sure exactly what time of the month it is for me.” She wrinkled her brow. “Although it may be a little late to worry about that now.”
“Well, fortunately, we live in the quickie marriage capital of the U.S. Do you think Fred and Ginger would have trouble with the idea of becoming grandparents if I knocked up their younger daughter?”
“Tom, be serious. We’re talking about a baby here. A potential baby.” She pulled the sheet up to her neck.
“Our baby, Cinna.” His eyes were intense, the green glint back. “C’mon now, we’re old enough. I’m thirty-five and you’re what? Thirty? Don’t you think it’s time two people in love got started on the important things in life?”
She swallowed as he moved over her, his face inches away.
“I’ve got protection in the bathroom.” He nodded toward the door. “Say the word and I’ll get it, but I’ve got to tell you, Cinnamon, you’ve got about five seconds to decide.”
She didn’t waste his time.
A word about the author...
Nina Barrett’s desire to be a writer began in childhood when she fell in love with words, treasuring the works of authors such as Mary Stewart and Daphne du Maurier. She is the author of two previously published novels, Marriage Made in Haven and Return of the Dixie Deb. She is an advocate for research into autism.
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