"You are Brianne Mason, yes?"
"Um, yes?"
The man, a devastatingly pretty man in skinny jeans, a western style shirt, and a bolero, laughed. "Honey, if you're going to work for Jude, you're going to have to work on your game face. He doesn't have any patience for weakness."
He made a good point. She pulled her arm from his and straightened. "I'm supposed to be meeting Jude Cassidy. I think there's been some confusion."
The man tipped his cowboy hat her way. "Much better. Come on, let's get on the wagon before it leaves. It's the most fun you're going to have all day."
He grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the wagon. He was surprisingly strong for such a slim guy. Of course, like everyone else in the world, he was a good foot taller than her, so that probably helped. She ducked her head and let him drag her, but she refused to sit on the bench seat once they were inside. "Like I said, I'm supposed to be meeting Mr. Cassidy. I--"
The man grabbed her wrist and yanked, the movement of the wagon as it started rolling ensuring she fell into the seat next to him. "Mr. Cassidy sent me and described you with such particular and exacting detail that I recognized you on sight. I'm going to be training you, since you'll be doing my job for six weeks." He stuck out a hand. "I'm Raymond Hughes. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Oh," she said, deflating just a bit. With relief. Of course, with relief. She did not want to see Jude. "It's nice to meet you."
The driver pointed out amenities in the casino while giving them a history lesson about the wild west. She glanced over at Raymond, but he appeared to be laser-focused on the spiel and the scenery, so she settled in to learn about Jude's casino.
There were numerous restaurants and bars around the edges of the casino floor and the wagon driver described everything on offer at each of them. Then he veered down a large hall and it was as though they'd left the casino. The walls were painted to mimic the desert outside and the mountains in the distance. Even the exteriors of the shops were designed to look like rock formations, like outlaw hideouts.
"He always did love wild west stories," Bri said as two cowboys, in low slung jeans, cowboy boots and hats, slim leather vests and nothing else, raced past the carriage, ab muscles rippling as they darted and wove away from three more cowboys, dressed the same but with gold stars on their vests.
Raymond turned to her, smile wide. "Did he now? Sounds like you've known Jude for a while."
"Since I was eight and he was nine." She saw no reason not to share.
Raymond's smile couldn't have been any more delighted. "How long did you date?"
She swung around to stare at him, startled. "We've never dated. He was my brother's best friend." They never had dated, not technically, though there had been a kiss and a promise. Like all of Jude's promises, it had meant nothing.
"Right," Raymond said. "Of course." His tone suggested the opposite.
The wagon rolled down an incline and into a wide-open, dome-shaped arena that appeared to be several hundred yards across. There were more wagons and fenced in areas with horses and bison, real live horses and bison, grazing on hay. "Wow," she said. "Is this a petting zoo?"
Raymond smiled like he thought she was adorable. She almost expected him to reach over and pat the top of her head. "The horses and bison are for the Wild West show that happens here twice a day. There's roping and racing and mock gun fights. No one's allowed to touch the animals."
The driver cleared his throat and launched into a tale about the actual Wild West shows that used to tour around the country more than a century before. In particular, he talked about Wild Bill Hickok's show.
The carriage took a slow circle in the middle of the arena and headed back up into the casino. Their driver pointed out the gaming rooms and the exits that led to the pool areas and then returned them to the lobby.
Raymond hopped out and offered Bri his hand. She took it and stepped carefully out of the wagon, swaying with the movement of tourists. "Come on," he said. "I'll show you where to get Jude's coffee."
His thumbs flew over his phone as he walked, and she fell into step beside him. "Listen," he said. "Jude is a control freak, but even he can't do everything. Nine times out of ten, it's better not to let him know about something unless there's a real need for him to get involved. The man is a beast, but even he needs to sleep."
"Okay," she said, more nervous than ever. Not only did she have to work with the one person she hated most in the world, but she had to do a job she'd never done before, a job that was going to be a lot more complicated than getting him coffee and picking up his dry cleaning, based on Raymond's fierce concentration on his phone.
"Damn it," he said. "We need to get a move on. Pick up the pace, Mason."
He trotted ahead, still looking sophisticated and put together, like a fashion model jogging elegantly for a photo. Bri followed, much bouncier and less coordinated. When had she gotten so out of shape? She used to be able to jog for miles without tiring.
He took a hard right and she followed, grateful she managed not to trip over her own feet or collide with tourists.
The coffee shop barely had room to stand, it was so packed with people. Raymond grabbed her hand and yanked her forward through the crowd. "We never wait," he shouted back to her.
Ignoring the complaints of the people in line and somehow shimmying between bodies like a cat, he got them to the front counter. Bri had been elbowed and stepped on and hadn't managed to fit through the gaps as gracefully as he had, but she made it.
One of the baristas, a short, thin man with a handle-bar mustache, glanced their way and nodded at Raymond. He then stopped what he was doing, mid pour, and hurried to the back. He returned, moments later, with an actual china mug, and began to work on making the drink.
"Nelson, this is Miss Brianne Mason," Raymond said when Nelson delivered the drink. "She'll be picking up the boss's drink for the next six weeks."
Nelson stuck out his hand for a quick shake, but didn't say a word before hurrying back to work. "Not a big talker," Bri said.
"Ever work in the service industry?" Raymond asked as he wove back through the crowd, coffee mug in hand.
"I waited tables for four years."
He gave her a significant look. "Ever feel like talking after a long shift spent charming customers."
"Right." Though she'd never been tired of talking after a shift, she could imagine how the barista must feel. The folks she'd 'charmed' in Towle had all been regulars, people she'd known for years. A revolving door of new people every day, constantly asking for your attention, must be exhausting. She glanced back at the coffee shop as they left, committing the name, The Coffee Barrel, to memory.
When she turned back, Raymond was several yards ahead and moving at a fast clip. She jogged after him and caught up just as he stopped in front of an elevator. He hit the down button and tapped his foot impatiently while he waited.
"What's the rush today?" she asked.
He sighed. "Mr. Cassidy is in a mood, and he's got a meeting with the casino managers in fifteen minutes. He needs coffee. An hour ago." He shook his head. "He said he'd get it himself this morning, but of course he got too busy." He met her eyes. "There's a lesson there for you, Mason. Never trust Mr. Cassidy to take care of himself or put himself first. That's my job." He shrugged. "Your job now."
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside after a group of laughing tourists disembarked. At least the casino didn't seem to be hurting for business. She couldn't help the pinch of irritation at the thought of what her brother could be involved with, instead of working in construction for next to nothing. Raymond gave her a laminated card and showed her how to use it to allow the elevator to access the lower floors.
Raymond couldn't be right about Jude never putting himself first, he'd certainly only been thinking of himself when he'd kicked Max out of their business. "Is Mr. Cassidy often in a mood?" she asked as the elevator lowered smoothly.
Raymond looked at her, eye
s wide. "Mr. Cassidy is almost never in a mood. He has high expectations for everyone here, but he doesn't do moody or emotional." He looked her up and down. "Can you think of anything that's changed for him recently?"
She smoothed her hands over her ugly pants and pulled at her blouse. It was just a hair too tight and had that annoying button gap right over her breasts. "I didn't ask for this job. I had a job as a cocktail server lined up, but he insisted I work with him."
Raymond's expressive face registered surprise, but also delight. "Really? How cave man of him."
"I think it has more to do with him wanting to keep his enemies close."
His delight vanished, and he pursed his lips. "Enemy?"
"Enemy by association. I'm just here to do a job and go back home. I'm not planning to cause any trouble for you or your boss."
The elevator doors slid open to a bare, nondescript hall, even more plain after the pizazz of the casino, but Raymond didn't step out. He faced her, arms crossed over his chest. "Mr. Cassidy isn't an easy person to get to know, but he's a good boss. The best I've ever had. And he's a good person."
She crossed her arms over her own chest, feeling defensive. She wasn't the bad guy in this situation. "I told you, I'm not planning to cause any --"
"Can I have my coffee, Raymond?" Jude's voice, so deep and echoing in that empty hall, startled them both. Raymond almost dropped the coffee, but he recovered quickly and handed it over as he stepped out of the elevator.
Raymond glanced back at Bri. "He moves like a panther, silent, and he sees everything that happens."
"That's enough," Jude said. "I'm sure Miss Mason knows better than to think she'll be able to get away with anything here."
Bri stepped out of the elevator, somehow managing not to stomp her foot. She wanted to scream at Jude, remind him this job was his idea, remind him he was the one who'd betrayed her brother, who'd destroyed their family, but she needed the job more than she needed her pride. "Miss Mason is just here to do her job," she said through gritted teeth.
Jude didn't look at her, he focused on Raymond, which allowed her a chance to study him. He wore a suit that stretched over his large, muscular body and fit like it had been sewn on, but there was something about him that didn't look as perfectly put together as she would have expected. Maybe it was the dark circles under his eyes or the fact that his tie was just the tiniest bit askew, but he didn't look like the guy she remembered.
Even as a kid, he'd always dressed like he was on his way to a board meeting, he'd always been so sure of himself, so certain that the world would lay down at his feet the moment he asked. He'd also been kind and warm, ready to help anyone who needed it. She didn't see any warmth or kindness in his expression anymore, and it made her sad for reasons she didn't want to examine. "You get that, Mason?" Raymond asked.
She started, realizing both men were looking at her, Jude's expression hard, unforgiving.
"Nope," she said, knowing better than to lie and not really caring if Jude thought her an idiot. If she was very lucky, he'd get frustrated and send her back to work as a cocktail server. For less money. Drop-kicking day lilies, maybe she did care. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm a bit overwhelmed, could you repeat that?"
Jude's expression softened just the tiniest bit, before he spun on his heel and walked away. "I've got a meeting to get to."
Raymond followed, so Bri walked with him and tried to pay attention as he explained what she needed to do next, but Jude's very fine, very neatly covered body flexed and moved in a way she found entirely distracting as he strode ahead of them.
Raymond stepped in front of her and snapped his fingers in her face. "Focus, Mason. Learning the exact curvature of Mr. Cassidy's ass won't help you with learning who is important in his world and who can be ignored."
She glanced over his shoulder, hoping Jude hadn't heard Raymond's words. Jude didn't pause or slow, but just before he turned a corner and disappeared from her sight, he glanced back her way and gave her a look that heated her like molten lava. She sighed and Raymond snapped his fingers in her face again. "I thought you said he's your enemy."
She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. I'll pay more attention from now on."
Raymond studied her face, his own less concerned than she thought it should be. "You sure you two never dated?"
"No," she said, a whisper of disappointment lacing through her. "Never." Once, he'd made her a whispered promise over Christmas eggnog. A promise that, when she'd finished college, he'd be there, that he'd always be there, and he'd kissed her like she'd never been kissed before. Four months later, he'd cut Max out of their business. Eight months after that, Bri had given up on college and moved in with her mother to help take care of Addy.
Raymond's expression sobered, the twinkle leaving his eyes. "Okay, then. I'll show you our desk."
#
Bri stretched out on the sofa and crossed her ankles. She flipped the page on her Kindle and tried to get lost in a contemporary romance about a billionaire and his gorgeous, yet totally self-deprecating, business rival slash love interest. She read at least a book a week, and it never failed to be the escape she needed. Romances had saved her sanity when she'd been taking care of a tiny, colicky Addy, who cried all day and rarely slept more than an hour at a time at night.
At least, she used to love romances. Now, all she could picture when she imagined the billionaire in the story was Jude's scowling face. Hard to get lost in a fantasy when in her reality the billionaire despised her as completely as she hated him.
She closed her Kindle and laid it on the coffee table. Her phone lay next to it and she picked it up, restless for something to occupy her brain. Without thought, she swiped to the plan Isla had created Saturday night after a few too many drinks: "How to Lasso a Billionaire: A Gold-digger's guide."
It had mostly been a joke, concocted by Isla after Bri had admitted it had been more than two years since she'd touched a man. The plan had bullet points and tongue-in-cheek headings like, "The Meet-cute: How to meet him and make him think you'd look cute in his bed." She scrolled through the document and found new additions. Isla must have kept working on it after Bri had gone to bed.
Isla was right. It had been way too long since she'd flirted or gotten prettied up and gone out with the intention of looking for a man. It had been way too long since she'd felt like an attractive woman who might possibly have sex again someday.
Outside, the sun had set, but lights from the strip cast a psychedelic glow on the buildings around her, even from three blocks away.
Young and single and in Vegas for gummy bears' sakes, she should be out living it up while she had the chance before real life crashed back down on her again. There was no telling when she might get another opportunity to let loose and have some fun, and she wasn't going to waste it.
A smile curled her lips as excitement and anticipation filled her. She hurried to her suitcase and pulled out a cute sparkly top and a flouncy black mini skirt from her college days. They were both a bit tight on her, but they fit well enough. She took her time with her make-up and straightened her hair into shiny, thick waves.
She tucked her ID and phone into a small clutch, slid on heels, and was ready to go. Before heading out, though, she grabbed her cell and dialed her mother's number.
"Hey, honey," Maureen said. "Everything okay?"
"Everything's amazing." She smiled so her mother would hear only happiness in her voice. "Isla and I are just about to head out, and I wanted to say good night to Addy before we left." The words stuck in her throat a bit, because she hated to lie to her mother, but the lie was necessary. Her mother's wellbeing mattered more than Bri's discomfort.
"Oh, honey. Your Aunt Louise took her on a long walk through the woods today, and all the excitement tired her right out. She's already fast asleep. I should have texted to let you know not to call tonight."
Some of Bri's excitement fizzled. She yearned to hear Addy's little voice and her butchering of everyday words, to see her
chubby cheeks on the small phone screen. "It's okay, Mom. I'll talk to her tomorrow."
"Call us earlier tomorrow, honey. I'm taking her to swim at the community pool, and I expect she'll go down hard again."
"I'll do that. Are you having a good time?"
"It's gorgeous here, Bri. I wish you could see it. Of course, I'll send you pictures, but it's not the same as seeing it in person."
"Maybe someday I'll see it myself," she said, biting back a promise to get on the next bus out of Vegas and be there by morning. She'd never bargained on how much she'd miss Addy and her mother. She gripped the phone tighter and shook her shoulders to rid herself of the ache. "I miss you, Mom."
"I miss you, too, baby girl. Now you get out there and have a good time. Shake your tail feathers for me."
She laughed, picturing Maureen shaking her own butt as she said the words. "It's a promise."
She left the apartment and steeled her shoulders. She'd never gone out on the town alone, never faced drunken crowds on her own, never been out at night in a city like Vegas on her own, but she could do it. Even if all she did all night was sit by herself at a corner table, it would be more fun than staring at the walls in Isla's apartment.
Outside, the street was lit by passing cars and streetlights, but there were pockets of darkness. Bri kept her gaze forward and walked with a confidence she didn't necessarily feel toward the bus stop Isla had pointed out on the corner. No one else waited at the stop, the street surprisingly empty and silent. Other than passing cars, the thump of bass from a nearby apartment, and the laughter of a group of women across the street, there was nothing going on. Bri wrapped her arms around herself and pulled out her phone to check the bus schedule.
She'd just pulled it up, when someone wolf whistled. She spun to see a man, dressed in rags, leaning against a building and smiling toothlessly at her. "Hey, darling," he said. "You looking for some company?"
"No. I'm just waiting for the bus."
"Gonna be waiting for a while," he said. "I've had a good day. I can pay for your time."
"Good for you," she said, automatically, before what he was implying registered. She glanced down at the swishy shirt and short skirt she'd thought were sexy and cute. Did he think she was a prostitute? "You don't think . . . No. I'm just waiting for the bus."
How to Lasso a Billionaire Page 4