The Night Manager

by Tarrah Anders

  “True, but you both can’t burn out. All work and no play makes Jacks and Mal dull boys.” Beck smiles as Mal rolls his eyes.

  “Oh, that’s clever. Haven’t heard that one before,” I quip, throwing a chip her way. It lands halfway between her and me. We both smile as the chip drops on the floor by her foot.

  Cam just said that saying to me, could there be any truth to it?

  I have fun, sometimes. Right?

  The three of us finish our lunches and I reluctantly agree to hire an assistant manager to take some of the load off of us. It’s smart, but what will I do with my time now that I have a hot-as-sin new roommate, who also happens to be my best mate’s little sister and, as I’m now learning, my weakness.

  Mal and Beck leave together as I’m changing from my slacks into my work out pants before heading downstairs to do some choreography with some of our dancers. The first hour of rehearsal is men only, then we bring in the women for the routines that they perform with the guys and then the ladies have the last hour for their rehearsals. On days like this, I have a legit excuse for being at work several hours before the place opens. It's a part of my job that I enjoy and it also keeps me in shape.

  When Mal and I first began discussing opening our own place, we were dancing for an all-male revue in one of the casinos. We did well, we had a following, but Mal had bigger ambitions. I knew I didn’t want to be a dancer my entire life, so I joined in on his venture silently at first, just in case our plans fell through. It was stupid of me to doubt our ideas, but I didn’t know at the time what else to do. When we first opened, it was amazing. We had just as big of a following as we did at our previous job, we created a buzz, advertised right and had Beck helping on the office side since she was keen on business matters.

  We’re lucky. In Las Vegas, not many clubs like ours can hit it big at the start and stay on top, but here we are eighteen months after we first opened our doors and there’s no slowing down in our foreseeable future.

  The guys and I set a good pace for our first hour of practice. When the women come in, we go over three combined routines and then release the guys as our principal choreographer joins the group.

  I head home quickly and grab a shower. As I’m putting on my trousers, I hear Cam tinkering around in the kitchen. I finish getting ready for my evening at the club before emerging from my room to the aroma of pasta sauce and garlic bread. Cam is standing in front of the stove, stirring her concoction and turns when I enter the room.

  “Hey, stranger,” she says and then turns back to the stove.

  “Hey,” I reply sheepishly as I fold up the sleeves of my shirt.

  “Haven’t seen you in a few days. I thought you were deliberately avoiding me because of towel-gate,” she teases as she continues stirring.

  Even though my mind is screaming at me to avoid the conversation and her all together, my body drifts towards her like I’m a magnet and she’s my iron.

  “Just been busy at the club,” I reply, sidling up to her and peering around her. I inhale deeply. “Smells delicious.”

  “Thanks. You know, you guys should get a day off here and there. Since I’ve been here, I don’t think you have had one,”

  “We actually discussed that this afternoon. We’re going to be hiring someone to take the load off of Mal and me. But we knew starting this up that we would have little to no days of relaxation.”

  “All work—” she starts and I cover her mouth. Her eyes are wide, she squeaks and drops the spoon she was using. Pasta sauce splatters all over the previously clean stove.

  “Nope. I hate that saying. I ban it from this house. If you live here, you’re not allowed to say it.”

  “But technically, I don’t live here,” she says from under my hand.

  I pull back and wipe my hand on my leg. “Technically, are you looking for other housing options?” I quirk my eyebrows.

  She looks away. “Not really,” she mumbles.

  “Then you live here, love,” I say, inwardly happy she admitted that. “So, as I said, you cannot say that stupid saying.”

  “Yes, sir!” she playfully salutes, as my cock twitches.

  “I’ve got to be going. Have a good night.” I kiss the side of her head out of reflex, both of us freezing as my lips touch her skin. Wordlessly, I walk away with sweaty palms and my heart pounding at the affectionate touch.

  “And for those reasons, I believe I would be a great asset to your establishment.” The woman in front of Mal and me finalizes her hire me speech with a smile.

  “Thank you,” —I look at her resume in my hand— “Ms. Williams. We’ll be in touch.” Mal and I stand in unison and, as I button my jacket, I round the table of the booth we’re sitting in and extend my hand.

  Still maintaining her big smile, Ms. Williams takes my hand and shakes it firmly before mirroring the action with Mal.

  Once she’s out of the club, I return to the booth and slouch against the soft leather seats.

  “How many more are there?” I groan, my head falling into my hands, my fingers rubbing my temples.

  “That was the last one we have scheduled. We’ve interviewed seven people in the last seventy-two hours. Do we want to keep the position up or do you have a favorite?” Mal asks.

  “I like the dapper fella who came in yesterday afternoon, and the busty chick who was first today.”

  “The busty chick? You’re not saying you like her for her tits, are ya?”

  I make a face of disgust and shake my head. “Not my type.”

  “Oh yeah, and what is your type nowadays?” Mal asks from where he sits across from me.

  “Female.” Your sister is my type.

  "Could you vague that up for me?" Mal laughs.

  “I do what I can.” I shrug.

  “So, hey, my sister told me she’s staying at your place while she finds a new spot. Why haven’t you said anything?” Mal asks.

  Shit! What do I say? This is awkward.

  “Yeah. She’s been staying with me for a few weeks. Sorry, mate. I forgot to mention it,” I reply.

  “Weird,” Mal says.

  “What’s weird about it?” I ask, my tone defensive.

  “That she didn’t come to us.” He shakes his head.

  I look at my mate, really study him and note there’s nothing in his voice or body language hinting that he believes Cam staying with me is a bad idea. He seems to have no inkling that there is an attraction between me and his sister.

  “You guys are newlyweds. She doesn’t want to be in your space, especially if you two are fucking like donkeys all over the place.”

  “We don’t fuck like donkeys. I mean really, how do donkeys fuck that would be even close to how Beck and I fuck? When we make love, it’s beautiful and like a symphony of—”

  “I don’t need to know what sex is like with your wife.” I put my hand up to stop him from continuing.

  “So, back to my sister. You cool with her staying with you? Because she can definitely stay with us if she’s cramping your style.”

  “Nah, she’s good. We have opposite schedules, so we only see one another in passing.” I brush off his suggestion, hoping he’ll drop the subject.

  “Cool. So, I’m curious though, why didn’t you say anything?”

  “It must have slipped my mind. I'm here at the club so much that, I forget I have a roommate until I hear noises in the house of someone else around.”

  “That’s what she said too. Thanks for giving her a place to stay. Just do me a favor and make sure she doesn’t date any assholes.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Thankfully, I’m not particularly considered an asshole. Wait! We’re not dating.

  Beck decided to send both Mal and me home and instructed us to not come back to the club tonight. She said that she and Janae, our lead bartender, would look after the place. Unsure what to do with myself, I went home. It’s been over a year since I’ve had the night off. All the time Cam has been living in my home, we
’ve never been home at the same time for longer than an hour, aside for a few overlapping hours of sleep. It’s early evening as I enter the house. I don’t hear Cam, and I’m not sure if she’s even home or when I should expect her to be home. I want to seek her out and see when she will be home, but instead I go about my normal routine as if she wasn’t here.

  I want her. That much I admit, however, I’m not sure how her brother would view anything romantic happening between his sister and me. If he got pissed about it, I’m not sure I could deal with losing my best mate. So, right now I need to keep my mind occupied and that means I need to not be around her as much as I would like.

  And boy would I like to be around her, a lot.

  I’ve changed out of my work clothes and am pulling on a pair of shorts when I hear Cameron singing out of tune from somewhere in the house. I quietly walk through the house in search of her. The singing grows louder as I walk into the kitchen. I sit on a stool at the island and listen to her butcher what sounds like a Taylor Swift song asking about whether or not I’m ready for something. I place my elbows on the island and my head in my hands as I observe her. She shakes her ass in short spurts and I notice the wireless headphones in her ears. When she turns around and sees me, she throws herself against the other counter and screams.

  Her hand is over her chest and her chest is heaving as her wide eyes look at me. She pulls the earbuds out and mouths oh my god a few times as she catches her breath. With her hair up in a messy bun, strands of blonde cascade around her face. Her hand is pushing on her chest still pushing her breasts up creating perfectly shaped mountains for my eyes to feast on.

  “You all right, love?” I ask with a smile.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she gasps.

  “Well, I live here, so…?”

  “No shit, Sherlock. I mean you’re never home.”

  “Beck is working tonight, giving me a break I guess. So, I’m home tonight.”

  “Not going out?” she asks.

  “I haven’t been home at this time of night in a while. I figured I’d give prime time television a chance and see what kind of crap is on the telly nowadays, maybe we can hang out?” What the fuck am I saying?

  “Cool. Right. So, I’ll give you your space then.” She nods her head and looks at the bag of groceries that she was digging into on the other side of the kitchen.

  I stand up and move around the island to look inside the bag. I note the microwave dinners and bag of Cheetos.

  “We can’t have any of this, not when I can order Chinese.” I pull open a cabinet and lift the take-out menu out of a pocket sleeve that I have attached to the inside of the door and hand it to her.

  “I’m fine. I’ve got my own food,” she says, holding out the menu to me.

  “Nonsense. I’m home and I’ll buy you dinner. None of this from-a-plastic-tray crap.”

  “It’s not crap.” She folds her arms defensively.

  “We’re not going to argue about this. Choose your items and I’ll order in,” I say and leave the kitchen not giving her another chance to protest.

  I’m sitting on the couch, my bare feet up on the coffee table as Cam comes and sits beside me. She hands me the menu and frowns.

  “Listen, I can go hang out in the bedroom if you want to be alone,” she says quietly.

  “I don’t want to be alone. Do you eat microwave dinners every night?” I ask sternly.

  “Not every night, but a lot. They’re easy.”

  “You should be eating healthy, balanced meals, not stuff out of a cardboard box.”

  “And Chinese food – it’s healthy and balanced?” She smiles as she tilts her head.

  “Touché. It’s not, but it tastes fucking good and I haven’t had Chinese food in a while.”

  “You make no sense.” She shakes her head.

  Do I want her to try to figure me out?

  Chapter Four

  Cam

  We sit a foot apart on the couch, eating out of the takeout cartons of Chinese food. Jacks ordered too much food, and when he shoves the last bit of undon noodles into his mouth, he leans back and groans as he hands the carton in my direction. I push it away, I can’t eat anymore food.

  “That tastes so fucking good,” he breathes out. The sound is sexy as hell.

  Down, girl. Put away those thoughts and remember he is off limits. He’s your brother’s best mate. And you know that fact will prevent Jacks from ever starting anything with you.

  I watch him. His head leans on the back of the couch, his hand still gripping the carton, and he has a lazy smile on his face. He lifts his head and looks at me.

  “I’ve never seen someone so happy about Chinese food.” He looks a little turned on. I’m sure that’s just my wants and desires altering what I see.

  “I generally don’t allow myself to eat this stuff, but every now and then I cheat and eat unhealthy.”

  “I think my microwave dinner was more nutritious than this, but I do have to say it all tasted good.” I lick the end of my chopsticks.

  I look over to him and he’s watching my movements. He sits up and clears his throat.

  “So, Mal knows you’re staying here.” He changes the subject.

  My brother was surprised when we discussed my current living arrangements over dinner the other night. I was surprised as well. I figured Jacks would have mentioned it to him. Unknowingly, I let the cat out of the bag then got a stern lecture from Mal about men and roommates.

  “Yeah, I didn’t know you were keeping me a secret,” I tease him.

  “I had forgotten to mention it, but now I’m charged with making sure you stay out of trouble and don’t date any assholes.”

  “So you’re my keeper now?”

  “You’re not a prisoner, Cam, you know that. I guess he just wants me to look out for you.”

  “Hard to do that when you avoid home.”

  “I’m not avoiding home, I’m just… busy.”

  “Were you always this busy?” I ask.

  “That’s a loaded question.” He shakes his head.

  “Answer me this, then. Before I moved in, were you home a little more?” I question.

  “I might have been.”

  “So you haven’t been home because of me?” He lets my question hang in the air before he looks at me and takes a deep breath.

  “You’re a temptation, Cam. You’re also my best mate’s blood. I’m trying to do the right thing by that and, I guess, keep some distance between us to prevent anything from happening between us again.”

  I’m a temptation to him, but he doesn’t want me. Or he does want me, but he can’t have me. Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back and stand up.

  “I don’t want you avoiding your own home because you feel like you need to not be around me. I’m sorry that I’ve put you in this position.” I move to go to my bedroom, a room that I will no longer be sleeping in soon because now I know that I should go and not stay here.

  “No.” Jacks’s voice booms through the house and he lunges for me and grabs my hand.

  “No? Jacks you just said—”

  “You’re taking this all wrong, Cam. I don’t want you to go.”

  “But you are deliberately staying away from your own house because I’m here. That’s unfair to you,” I protest.

  “No, I’m staying away from home because I want you so fucking much that I need to keep distance between us in order to control myself.”

  “Why?” I ask, my voice quiet.

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you need to stay away. What’s wrong with you being close to me?”

  “We can’t happen. Your brother—”

  “He has no say in who I date, what I do.”

  “Your brother is my best mate and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be keen on you and me.”

  “Have you asked him?”

  “No, and I don’t intend to. Cam, this attraction between us, we cannot pursue it.”

  “I don’t
think it’s something that can be controlled,” I whisper.

  “Listen, you’re a good person. You are amazing, Cam. Beautiful and amazing. You don’t need to get involved with me. You should hang out with your friends, have fun. You and I are just not compatible. We can’t be.”

  “We can’t or you refuse?” My hands go to my hips and I stick out my foot.

  “Cam, let’s just drop it. Your brother wouldn’t approve,” he says with finality.

  “My brother isn’t the one to approve my relationships. I am.” I stomp my foot and storm out of the living room, down the hall and into the bedroom like a child. I slam the door and lock it as I throw myself on the bed.

  I should have just looked him in the eye and told him to fuck off with his prehistoric views of romance. That my brother doesn’t get a say in who I date and that he should take off his diapers and be a man!

  Instead, I lock myself in my room and let the anger boil, avoiding him for the rest of his only night off.

  The argument from two nights ago that Jacks and I had is still is fresh on my mind. He told me to go out with friends and have fun, not think about him or us being anything. He’s gone back to putting the distance between us, as he had apparently been doing since I moved in, and I haven’t seen him once.

  Meanwhile, I meet up with Sam and a few of her friends after work at the Ice Bar in the Monte Carlo hotel. As I put on the warm fur coat the bar provides, I head into the bar and am met with a chill that I wasn’t expecting. It’s a welcome sensation after the scorching heat of the Las Vegas sun in the summer.

  I’ve been in Las Vegas for three months and, in that short span, I’ve learned that this time of year in the city I’ve chosen to make my home in is bright and unbearably hot. Luckily, I work indoors and the air conditioning was constantly pumping, making the indoors comfortable.

  Before I approach Sam and company, I grab a shot of vodka and a beer at the ice bar along the wall, then proceeded to the area at the back of the bar where they were sitting.

  “Caaaaaaaam!” Sam cheers as I sidle up to her. “Everyone. This is my wonderful, gorgeous, Australian friend, Cameron. Cam, this is everyone!” She waves her hand exaggeratedly to the table as she slurs out her introductions.