"Will you fire them?" she asked as soon as Philip closed the door behind her.
Jude looked over at her, confused. She saw the moment he realized what she'd asked, saw the confusion replaced by irritation and . . .hurt? "I'd be a real dick to fire them for something I'm doing myself." He shook his head. "They can't behave that way in the casino, but what they do in the employee elevator isn't my concern."
"Are there rules about dating employees or co-workers in your casino?"
A bit of tension left his expression. "The casino employs far too many people for any sort of enforceable dating rule. Ideally, human resources should be informed, but there is no hard and fast rule against it." He paused, glancing out the window. "For managers and executives, the rules are a bit stricter and more likely to be enforced." He looked at her. "If you'd feel more comfortable, we can meet with HR, let them know we're dating."
"Is it necessary? I'm just a temporary employee."
His expression, so open a moment before, closed off, and she regretted her words, though she wasn't sure why. "Temporary. Yes. I suppose there's no point in HR dealing with the paperwork since it's a temporary situation."
There was nothing she could say. She wanted to tell him only the job was temporary, that she had high hopes for their relationship being a long-term situation, but she wouldn't lie to him. She had a life that wasn't in Vegas and he had a casino that meant as much to him as her family meant to her.
She stared out the window at the strip passing by. She didn't know how to be around him if she wasn't kissing him or pushing him away. Which was better, she reminded herself. That was the way it should be.
Philip drove right past the street where she lived, and she turned to Jude. "Guess we're not stopping by my place for me to change or grab dinner?"
His lips twitched. "I'm taking you out. I thought that was clear when I said earlier that I'm taking you out."
"Going out could mean dancing or hitting a bar. I thought I could change and grab dinner before we went out." Maybe catch her breath, get her equilibrium back, prepare for a night out with him as her legitimate date. She had on a pretty dress and a business appropriate jacket which would be perfectly acceptable for dinner, but he didn't point that out.
"Raymond said you've been eating peanut butter for dinner every night."
"And jelly," she said. "I'm not big on dinner."
He frowned. "Do not lie to me, Miss Mason. You were paid on Friday. Paid very well. Why are you still eating peanut butter?"
She didn't want him to look at her differently, didn't want to see pity in his eyes. She'd almost rather he hate her than pity her. "That money isn't for me to go out to fancy dinners and buy cute clothes. I need to save everything I make here."
"Why?"
"I need it for my mother."
"Isla said something about your mother not being well. Is she okay?"
She fisted her hands so tight her nails bit into her palms. If she was really going to give dating him a chance, she should tell him the truth, all of the truth. She wasn't sure why opening up to him felt like standing in front of a firing range, but it did. She stared out the window as she spoke. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Jude. And I want to tell you everything, I really do, but not tonight. Tonight, I just want to have fun, to get to know who you are now."
He leaned forward, dropping his elbows on his knees and scrubbed his hands over his face. When he looked up at her, his confusion reflected her own. "I just need to know you're getting enough to eat. So, I'm taking you out to dinner tonight. You don't need to change, you look beautiful."
Philip pulled up outside a restaurant that Bri knew with a glance was way above her budget. Anything other than fast food was above her budget. "I can't afford this."
Her door swung open, but she stayed put. "You won't be paying for anything while we're together," Jude said, leaning in close.
Her heart thumped. "You're already paying me more than I should be making. I can't let you buy me dinner, too. It just--"
"If you could afford this place, you wouldn't be eating peanut butter." She felt his words as much as heard them, since he'd moved up against her, his lips to her ear. "We're dating. That's real to me. And I don't expect the woman I date to pay her way."
She sighed. His insistence on taking care of her should have felt like relief, a reprieve, but it felt terrifying. She'd held on so hard for so long, that letting him buy dinner felt huge. Like if she let him have this, she'd fall apart at the seams. She'd forget how to be independent. She pulled in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. "Okay. I'll let you pay, but I'm going to have to insist you not take me to such an expensive place. You don't need to spend a lot of money to impress me."
He stared her down. "This is my favorite restaurant, and I have reservations."
"And a meal here probably costs more than I made in tips in a month back in Towle. I'm sorry, Jude, but I'm not comfortable with this. This, us dating, it's about getting to know one another again. It's not about me getting a taste of life way above my tax bracket."
He stared at her for a long moment, as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He shifted away from her on the bench seat. "I don't know anywhere decent that's cheaper."
She bit her lip not to laugh. "What kind of food are you in the mood for?"
He gestured at the restaurant over his shoulder. "This place. I'm in the mood for a spicy curry and a ton of naan."
A car honked at them, taking up valuable real estate in front of the restaurant, and Bri almost backed down. She almost just gave in for the one meal, but the Jude she'd known as a kid had been stubborn as hell and if she gave in this one time, he'd push even harder to get her to back down the next time. It was sweet that he wanted to treat her well, but she was almost certain he really was spoiled by expensive food and wine.
She leaned out her door far enough to get Philip's attention. "I think it's best we get out of the way while we discuss this."
"As you wish, Miss Mason," Philip said.
Bri slid back into the car and bit back a laugh when Jude glared at Philip. Philip winked at Bri and shut the door on them.
"Your plan is to drive around the city until we see a restaurant neither of us have ever visited, which you judge delicious based on the exterior?"
She did laugh then. Some things at least about Jude hadn't changed. He hated to go anywhere without a plan, hated to take a chance, to try something unknown. She lowered the partition between them and Philip. "Philip, can you recommend an Indian restaurant the locals rave about? One that doesn't serve meals that cost as much a college education?"
Jude snorted, but both she and Philip ignored him.
"I know just the place," Philip said.
Several short moments later, silent moments while Jude brooded, likely about losing control of the evening and the gastrointestinal risks of eating at a restaurant that didn't price gouge, Philip parked in front of a cinder block strip mall, the window directly beside theirs announcing Garam Masala Indian Cuisine.
"Why are we stopping?" Jude asked, looking around.
"We are here, sir," Philip said, not bothering to hide his smirk. "The Indian restaurant with the best food in Vegas."
Jude scowled, but didn't argue. When Philip opened his door, Jude stepped out onto the sidewalk and, when Bri joined him, he took her hand in his own, lacing their fingers together. Bri's heart warmed to him another little bit.
"This looks great, Philip," she said. "Would you like to join us?"
Jude stiffened, but Philip's smile widened. "No, thank you, Miss Mason." He patted his stomach. "I had a late lunch and I have some business to catch up on."
"Maybe another time then?" Bri said, but Jude pulled her into the restaurant before she got more than a smile and a nod from Philip. She opened her mouth to admonish Jude, but lost her train of thought when she stepped inside the building.
Glittering fairy lights hung from the ceilings, along with sheer fabric draped i
n decoration. The walls were a pretty salmon color and the chairs and tables, though clearly worn from use, were brightly colored and decorated with sparkling plastic gems. Bri glanced at Jude to find he didn't share her delight. He met her gaze, brows high. "Pretty doesn't equal good food, much less an A+ rating from the health inspector."
"If you get sick from eating here, I'll let you pick the restaurant for the next date."
"If I get sick here," he said, leaning in close and lowering his voice as the hostess approached, "I'll be in charge of all our dining options for the foreseeable future."
"Two for dinner?" the hostess asked with a friendly smile.
"Yes," Jude said.
Bri had almost expected him to demand to see proof of their last health inspection or to ask to be seated at their nicest table, but Jude simply followed the hostess to a booth in the center of the restaurant and settled into his seat with a resigned sigh.
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "I'm not a snob, Brianne. I don't look down on those who have less than me or who prefer food from inexpensive restaurants. I simply . . ." He looked at the restaurant considering his words.
"You like to stick with what you know," she said, knowing her words to be true. In Towle, he'd always ordered pizza from the same chain restaurant even though everyone knew the local joint had the best pizza, and he always chose to eat at Marie's diner whenever they were out, until one night she'd finally admitted she hated Marie's burgers. He'd made the change for her, but she couldn't remember him ever doing it for anyone else.
"Exactly," he said, something like relief in his expression, though he didn't quite manage a smile. "I like to know I'm going to get a good dinner and not have to run to the hospital for a bout of food poisoning."
"There's something to be said for trying something new," she said. "For stepping out of your comfort zones."
He nodded. "Of course, there is. When I moved here, I tried many restaurants until I found the ones I like. When I had money, I went through the process again. I know what I like."
The waitress took their drink orders, and they spent the next couple of minutes looking over the menu. "I don't suppose I can trust the meat here," he said glancing around.
"Why not?" Bri smiled at the look of genuine concern on his face. "If it's safe, you might have a good meal and if it's not, you'll win our bet and you'll be able to take me to your favorite restaurants from now on."
"Maybe I should pretend to get deathly ill just to win our bet."
She shook her head. "You've let me in on the trick now. If you do get sick, you better save some vomit to prove it."
"Um, no," he said, his face going a bit green. "That won't be happening. Maybe you should stay with me tonight to find out how I fare. If I am sick, I'll need someone to care for me."
The waitress returned with their drinks and took their orders, saving Bri from having to answer. He was probably joking. Surely he didn't want her to stay over after their first date. Of course, they'd already had sex, so he probably expected to have sex again. She pushed her hair behind one ear. Why was she suddenly nervous about sleeping with the man? She was being ridiculous, except-- She wasn't sure she could handle the intimacy without falling for him.
His hand covered hers where she'd dropped it back on the table after fiddling with her hair. She looked up to find his gaze, earnest and concerned, on her. "I was joking, Brianne. I would never assume you'd stay the night with me or do anything you're not comfortable with."
She met his gaze and relaxed. This was Jude. Of course, he wouldn't push her, wouldn't ask for more than she was willing to give. He might be impossibly bossy and protective, but he'd never been entitled. She'd assumed that would have changed after he'd gotten rich and become so successful, but it clearly hadn't. "I know you'd never force me to do anything, Jude." She smirked. "Except go out to dinner with you." When he didn't respond with a smile she sighed. "I just don't know what we're doing here, Jude. I don't know how to be."
His serious expression darkened. "Just be you, Brianne. That's all I want. That's all I expect."
The sincerity in his voice slayed her. She couldn't remember the last time just being herself had been enough, when there hadn't been someone counting on her to be more. How had she ever believed this man had hurt her brother and her family without reason? How had she been so blind?
The waiter returned with their food and placed it in front of them, steam and delicious scents filling their table. Bri smiled over at Jude as the waiter walked away. "Looks safe enough to me."
"We'll see," he said, with a cocky grin. A grin that faded as he took his first bite. "Wow, this is actually pretty good."
She rolled her eyes. Her own meal was better than just pretty good, and she suspected Jude's was as well. She might not have a lot to compare it to, there weren't any Indian restaurants in Towle, but she'd had enough home cooked meals to recognize quality ingredients and flavor. While Jude wondered over the unexpected deliciousness of the meal, she decided to take control of the conversation before he could ask her more uncomfortable questions. "Why don't we play a game," she said. "We'll tell our own story, like we do with strangers, but it will be the reality we'd choose if we didn't have this one. The life we might have ended up in if we didn't find our way to this place."
"I'd rather know about your real life," he said with a sigh. "But I understand if you aren't ready to share it with me."
"It's not that," she said, even though it was exactly that, at least a little bit. "There's just so much of my life now that's entangled with the past and I don't want to go there. I want to keep this light, to get to know you without the baggage of the past, to have fun while we re-connect. Part of the reason I came to Vegas was for an escape from my real life, I'd like to stay away from reality a little while longer. I'm sorry--"
"Please. Don't apologize to me. I wish . . ." He shook his head and looked away. "I wish a lot of things that are irrelevant to our reality." He forced a smile. "You want to play a game? I'm in." His expression softened. "I'm not sure I have it in my power to say no to you, Brianne."
Not sure what to do with that information and hating that it made her feel guilty for reasons she couldn't name, she forced a smile of her own. "This is a lovely restaurant, dear," she said. "How was your day?"
He didn't hesitate, like he'd been thinking about this made-up story of his life for a long time. "Rough. Had three women try to pay me to go back to their rooms with them."
She grinned. He'd gone in a totally different direction than she'd expected. "Yeah, it's a shame the casino owner makes you wear such a revealing uniform."
His brow wrinkled. "I'm a stripper, babe. Of course, I have to wear a revealing outfit."
She laughed, hand pressed to her belly. "Really, Jude? Being a stripper is one of your life goals?"
He grinned, eyes twinkling. "You never said we had to pretend to have achieved some real-life goal. This is fantasy. I can be whatever I want."
She smiled, but disappointment lanced through her. He was right of course, it was better to keep the stories completely removed from reality, but she felt like she'd missed the opportunity to get to know a bit more about him. "Did you go back to the room with any of them?"
He leaned in, hands flat on the table. "I went back to their room with all three of them. It was exhausting, but I managed to get them all off first."
"How chivalrous of you." What the hell was that surge of jealousy about? This was fantasy and, if she wanted to ask him if he'd ever really been with three women at once, she also knew she would be happier not knowing.
He must have seen something in her expression, because he straightened. "I'm kidding. I could never be a stripper, or have a threesome, much less a foursome. I'm a one-woman kind of man."
She smiled, relieved. "So, what did you really do today?"
"Led a few hikes into the red rocks. Had small groups since it was so fucking hot."
"It was hot," she said. "I had to spend the day wa
lking the streets trying to track down one of my girls who'd run away again."
"One of your girls?" he asked with a smirk. "Brothel owner?"
"Foster parent. I own a huge house on the outskirts of town, and I take in as many kids as I can." Being a foster parent wasn't an actual dream of Bri's, she didn't aim that high. But she did wonder if a career in social work might be a good fit for her. Seeing the way both of Addy's parents had abandoned her, knowing that she and Maureen were the only people standing between Addy and a series of foster homes, had changed Bri in so many ways. She wanted to be able to help kids like Addy who didn't have other family to look out for them.
He frowned, studying her intently. "I thought you wanted to be a sports announcer."
That dream seemed like the hope of an entirely different person. A young girl who'd gone to college on a tennis scholarship and thought there was nothing better than sports, than eating, breathing, and talking tennis. She still loved tennis of course, but her priorities had changed. She'd changed. Jude didn't need to hear all that, though. "Just playing the game," she said with a smile. "Fantasy, right?"
He shook his head. "I don't know many people who fantasize about being a foster parent." He ate slowly, watching her. "I saw the most amazing sunrise this morning. All pinks and purples, rising over the desert."
"You spend a lot of time in the desert?"
He nodded, chewing. "All day, every day," he said after he'd swallowed. "Some nights, too."
"See any snakes?" She shuddered at the thought. She might have grown up around the desert, but that didn't mean she was cool with snakes.
"Had one bite my foot." He grinned at her look of horror. "Boot leather saved me. I was lucky. I was out there alone, a long way from help."
"You should be more careful," she said.
"I take a snake bite kit with me now when I go out."
"I imagine you carry a whole first aid kit with you if you're taking paying tourists out there."
"I do," he said. "I imagine you had to learn a lot about first aid to become a foster parent."
How to Lasso a Billionaire Page 15