Stone sat at the island, his suit jacket over the stool next to him, coffee in hand as he scrolled through his phone. He looked like a GQ cover model, and I hated that I thought he was handsome. Distressingly so. His dark hair and square jaw looked even more pronounced without the cowboy hat, although that was a look I appreciated as well. The sight of him sitting at the island, so casually, was doing weird things to my insides. It took more effort than I wanted to admit to keep my eyes off of his striking profile as I entered the kitchen and went about my morning, trying to ignore the low hum of attraction buzzing under my skin.
Making my way to the coffee machine, I selected a pod and inserted it. Placing a mug below and waiting for my drink, looking at him out of the corner of my eye as I did so. I didn’t want to even acknowledge his presence, seeing as he seemed determine to ignore mine today. Just as well; we clearly had nothing to say to each other.
When the machine finished, I took my mug and moved again to the back door, taking in the spectacular view once again. In the early morning light, the hills appeared much darker, their low peaks soaked in crimson and the gnarled shrubs appearing almost black. I breathed deeply, letting the view and the smell of hot coffee fill me with energy for the day. I took a sip, never taking my eyes off the incredible vista, and heard the legs of the stool scrape back against the tiles as Stone stood up from the kitchen island. I watched his reflection in the glass door as he moved to the sink and I was surprised to see he was rinsing his own mug. He then shocked me further when he placed it in the dishwasher before heading upstairs, never once looking in my direction.
Not giving him another thought, I finished my own coffee, cleaned up my mess, and stopped at the fridge to grab an apple before gathering my purse and heading for the door behind the kitchen. Part of the package Moira gave me at the office yesterday included instructions to using the car that was kept in the garage. I grabbed the keys from the hook as I passed.
Stepping into the garage, my nerves picked up. Sure, I had a driver’s license, but that was only a technicality. I had gotten it years ago in my high school drivers ed class. I renewed it every five years like I was supposed to, but I hadn’t actually driven in almost nine years. Owning a car in New York was about as useful as owning snow shoes in Florida.
The car in question was beautiful. A sweet cherry red Mustang convertible, the top already down, the gorgeous tan leather seats on display. I moved around to the drivers’ side and climbed in, careful not to smack the door into the large pickup truck parked beside me. After taking my time adjusting the seats and mirrors, I put the key into the ignition and turned.
Nothing happened.
I took the key out and reinserted it, turning again like I remembered to do, my foot on the brake pedal. Still nothing. This was bad. I didn’t have enough time to call a cab if I wanted to make it to the office on time. Sighing in defeat, I dropped my forehead down on to the steering wheel, jumping when the car horn let out a quick blast.
“Having a problem?” drawled a voice from my right. I looked over to see Stone, now wearing his suit jacket, leaning against the door to the house, a smirk on his stupidly handsome face as he reveled in my failure once again.
“Not a problem,” I said defensively, straightening up and turning the key a third time. Still nothing. “Not one I can’t handle, anyway.” I said, exiting the car and reaching for my phone. Maybe Uber was faster?
“Let me guess,” Stone said, moving into the garage and stepping up to me, trapping me between the two vehicles. “You can’t drive.” He looked down his nose at me, like I should be ashamed.
I was not.
“I most certainly can drive,” I countered, not backing down one bit. “It has just been a while, that’s all. I’m fully qualified to operate a motor vehicle.” I was rambling, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
“Sure looks like it, Blondie.” He stepped even closer to me, and I backed up before our chests touched. I was breathing hard, staring into his bright hazel eyes, trying not to let any emotions show on my face. Not my embarrassment at being once again found lacking, not my discomfort at being so close to him when he looked and smelled so good I could hardly think straight, and not my slight fear of being alone with him when he so clearly didn’t like me in the least.
He continued walking toward me, and I continued backing up, when he suddenly grabbed the door handle of the pick up truck, opening it wide. “Get in.”
I stared at him questioningly, a frown between my eyebrows, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Look,” he said, releasing a long-suffering sigh. “I’m going to the office. You’re going to the office. You can either stay here all morning trying to figure out the difference between the brake and the clutch, or you can get in this truck and come with me. The choice is yours, but I ain’t waiting all day for you to make up your mind.”
With that he spun around, stalking to the other side of the truck and climbed in. I stared at the open passenger door, wondering if I could risk the short drive with him and still keep my sanity, when he started the engine. The loud rumble of the motor startled me into moving, and a grabbed my laptop out of the Mustang and scrambled into the big truck. I had barely closed the door behind me and Stone had the vehicle in motion. After buckling my seat belt, I turned to look at him as he drove. One hand resting on top of the steering wheel, the other leaned casually on the console between us, he was the picture of cool confidence.
I mean, why wouldn’t he be? He had a rich daddy who provided him with all the things he could ever want. He probably hadn’t put in a single hard day’s work in his life.
Letting out a soft snort of disgust, I turned to look out my window, watching as all the beautiful houses I had admired yesterday slipped past. It didn’t take long for the residential area to turn back into the bustling hub that was Las Vegas Boulevard.
I was used to big, busy cities. After all, New York is known as the City That Never Sleeps. But seeing the amount of people out this early in the morning, going about their day in whatever capacity they chose, was really something to see. There were people wandering up and down the Strip taking in the sights, some of whom may have not even been to bed yet. There were municipal employees, already hard at work cleaning up after the last evening’s revelry, and as we approached The Alamo building site, there were construction workers coming and going at a rapid pace. With the exterior of the building now being nearing completion, it wouldn’t be long before Mr. Pennington’s secret theme wasn’t a secret any longer.
It was time I got started on a roll out plan that made the most of the announcement. I had to control the narrative here, and reveal the information in a manner that was most beneficial to our plans. And to my hope of getting the VP position.
I was zoned out, busy going over ideas and strategies in my head, when Stone’s voice cut in, causing me to jump again.
“You gettin’ out, or what?” he barked. He had been so silent on the drive over I had almost forgotten he was beside me. Looking around, I realized we were parked in the employee lot at the back of the property, next to the administration building. Gathering my things once again, I lowered my self down from the truck - no easy feat; the thing was massive - and walked quickly to the doors. Stepping in side the cool of the air-conditioned building, I was greeted by Moira’s kind smile.
“Good morning, Miss Lund. I see the clothes were to your satisfaction.”
“Yes, Moira. And thank you,” I said. “But, please, there were way too many. If I could return the other things to you, I won’t need them when my luggage arrives.” Which I hoped would be soon.
“If you’re sure, Miss Lund.”
“I am, thank you. I don’t know how you expected me to wear those clothes in the first place,” I said. They were way out of my price range and therefore, out of my comfort zone. Moira smiled, understanding my plight.
Stone, however, seemed to completely misinterpret my meaning.
“What’s the matter, Blondie? Those expensive
brands aren’t good enough for your Uptown ass?” he commented as he passed by me and headed for the elevator.
“Excuse me?” I sniped, but he ignored me, giving me his signature smirk as the doors closed, leaving me steaming in the lobby with Moira watching with a curious expression.
“Seems like things are going well at the house, then,” she said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, but didn’t elaborate. As we stood there, sharing a smile that said more than I needed to, another young woman approached from across the lobby. She was younger than me by a few years, and her eyes were wide as she stared at the closed door of the elevator.
“Was that Mr. Montgomery? I was hoping to catch him. He’s, like, ridiculously hot,” she gushed, fanning herself dramatically. Moira and I shared another look, this time one of amusement.
“Yes,” I said, then leaned in conspiratorially. “It was. And he is, like, ridiculously hot.” I met Moira’s eye with a wink, then threw in. “At least, his boyfriend sure thinks so.”
Moira choked down a snort as she attempted to keep the smile off her face. The younger woman looked flabbergasted.
“He’s gay?” she gasped, like this was the end of her world. “But, I thought I caught him checking me out yesterday.”
“Oh, honey. He was probably just admiring your outfit. After all, you heard him commenting on my clothes a minute ago. It’s like, his thing.”
Understanding dawned in her eyes as she contemplated this new information. “Damn. I totally thought I had a shot. I mean, who wouldn’t want a ride on that handsome cowboy?” she asked, pursing her lips as she looked again to where Stone had entered the elevator. “I’ll have to tell the girls he’s off limits,” she added before walking back to the office she had entered from and immediately heading to the cluster of desks where three other young women sat at a bank of phones. They bent their heads together while she dished the gossip.
Moira finally let her laugh free, the sound of it bold in the quiet lobby. “Girl,” she said with a small shake of her head. “I think you have some serious balls. I can’t wait to see how this plays out.”
Then she turned back to me, all business. “The reports you requested last night are all on your desk. Please, let me know if you need anything further.”
“Thank you, Moira,” I said with a smile. “I think today will be a good day. I can feel it.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Penelope
The morning flew by in a flurry of meetings and phone calls and emails.
I arranged to meet with each of the department heads, starting with Ava Carlisle, the head of VIP Services. We had a very brief discussion of her goals in bringing High Rollers in from around the world, all while she stared at me down her overly altered nose. Apparently, there was a certain group of men in the Far East who had a bit of a Wild West fetish. Ava was quite confident she could have all the suites filled for both the Soft Launch in three months, and the Grand Opening in four months, provided I could assemble the right materials in the teaser packages.
I made notes on hiring photographers, models, a video crew, and even a horse. I would have the packages to her before she left for Japan early next week. Ava left the meeting with a stiff nod, leaving my office door open as she went. I looked out into the reception space, noticing Stone standing by Moira’s desk as they spoke to one of the call center girls from the first floor. The look on the young womans face had softened and she resembled a dreamy teen girl, eyes full of desire. Her chest went out and so did her lower lip, pouting hard as she blinked rapidly at Stone as he and Moira spoke briskly about whatever it was they were discussing with her.
I held in a laugh as he looked at her blankly, staring without speaking until she gave up, deflating a little as she walked away. Poor girl. Someone should tell her that regardless of how appealing Stone was on the outside, his personality was enough to make you want to keep your distance.
After Ava, I met with Curtis Jones, Operations Manager. We discussed the retail shops that would be available, as well as staff uniforms and the pool area. The theme for the pool was “Desert Oasis” and according to the architect’s renderings, it would be a lush tropical paradise nestled in the heart of The Alamo property, with the rooms on that side of the building all having nice pool views. I added all those points to my marketing notes as well.
Geoff Yates, who was already annoyed with me for interrupting his report at the meeting yesterday, basically dropped a list of restaurant menus on my desk and told me to email him if I had any questions.
Gideon Langford, a very attractive man who reminded me of Idris Elba without the accent, was the Casino Manager. He was in charge of all aspects of the gaming facilities, from the poker tables to the slot machines. We reviewed the tables offered and the themed dress of the dealers, who would look like old time gamblers, with their white shirts and black vests. We agreed that as soon as the casino floor was ready we would arrange a photo shoot for some promotional shots.
Entertainment manager Carson Young sat with me while we discussed the exciting list of things to do while staying at The Alamo. He was tasked with finding and securing talent for the three different sized theaters on site, as well as all of the smaller events and the animal exhibits.
This perked me up quite a bit, having loved visiting the Central Park Zoo as a kid; animals have always held a place in my heart. We talked about the horses that would be kept on sight, as well as a few donkeys, and, if he could arrange it, maybe even a couple goats. There were animals kept all over the Strip, of course, from the tigers at The Mirage, to the MGM lions and obviously, the flamingos at The Flamingo. But the experience here would be different. The availability of having more domesticated animals would increase the accessibility of interactions with the guests, and the whole thing would have more of a petting zoo feel to it, allowing the guests to engage with the animals in a safe and monitored environment.
The theaters were another matter. For the mid sized theater, which was more of an arena than a true theater, Carson had signed a group of performers to do a variety show loosely based on Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. It incorporated all the elements of the wild west with a Cirque du Soleil feel, including trick riders and acrobats and it finished with a re-enactment of the final battle of The Alamo itself.
It sounded wonderful.
There was a huge concert venue which was booked for the next year with all the hottest country and country-rock acts available, all under contract to keep their appearances a secret until the hotel theme was revealed. There were quite a few names on that list I wouldn’t mind seeing myself if given half a chance. Hotel packages including concert tickets would bring a ton of guests in. It was all shaping up for a great roll out.
There was also a night club, and Carson had several up and coming DJs lined up who were stars at mixing country and rock and Top 40 hits together to keep people dancing and drinking all night long.
The only problem remaining was the small venue. Modeled more like a dinner theater than a concert hall, Carson had been having a difficult time finding the right act for the space. We finished the meeting agreeing to both consider what we could do there.
My meetings concluded, I gathered up my things and prepared to head out. It was early afternoon, and I wanted to walk down Las Vegas Boulevard, enjoying the sunshine and taking in the sights on my way to meet with the photographer I had called earlier. As I headed for the elevator I waved to Moira, letting her know I had the cell phone she had given me and that I would be back in an hour or two. I pushed the button and stepped in when the doors opened, pressing the button for the lobby. The doors were almost closed again when an arm pressed between, causing them to open. Stone Pennington stepped into the elevator, his scowl firmly in place and barely looking in my direction as he stood beside me, his wide shoulders seeming to take up more space than he was entitled to.
But that was his way; taking more than he was entitled to. Him and all the other rich kids living off their daddies’ hard work. I
glanced at my phone, wondering how it could possibly take so long for the elevator to descend three short floors. I shifted my feet awkwardly in my flats, wondering how someone so good looking could possibly be such a jerk, and just counting the seconds until I could escape the elevator and his angry presence.
Just when I thought I would make it, he spoke. “Leaving the office early, Miss Lund? We aren’t paying you to sight see, you know?” Condescension dripped from every syllable, and my spine straightened.
“I know that, Mr. Montgomery,” I fired back, letting him know exactly what I thought of his duplicitous nature using two names to hide the fact that he was only here because his father owned the company. “That is why I am currently on my way to a meeting. One I arranged earlier. While working. Like you pay me for.” I refused to even glance his direction, not wanting the sight of his deep hazel eyes to distract me, and instead staring at the numbers as they crawled to the bottom. Finally, the doors slid open and I made my escape, darting out of the elevator before he had a chance to move.
As I walked quickly, but with as much dignity as I could muster so that I would not look like I was running - which I kind of was - I heard him growl behind me as he replied. “See that it stays that way.”
I pushed through the doors of the administration building, stopping as I felt the sun on my face. Closing my eyes, I lifted my chin and let the light and heat wash over me, taking my crazy emotions with it.
Just being in the same space as Stone Pennington was enough to send me into crazy town. I couldn’t control my snark when I spoke to him, which was a bad thing because, jerk or not, he was still my boss. It wouldn’t matter how great my marketing campaign was if I was fired for insubordination.
Shaking my head to clear his ridiculously handsome and arrogant face from my mind, I set off toward the street, taking the long way to avoid the majority of the construction areas. The exterior was coming along nicely, with the store fronts starting to look like old west general stores with high end label names on the signs. I smiled politely as the workers waved and gave me nods, and at last found myself standing on the Las Vegas Strip.
The Cowboy and the Bombshell Page 7