Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Autumn
A dizzy sensation swamped me when I took his arm. He was solid and warm when his expression could be carved from marble. I thought he’d be as cool as stone, but the guy was a furnace.
What had he said to those bouncers?
They had looked ready to drop dead when he’d approached. Was Gideon that powerful?
If he wielded so much authority, no wonder he had issues with the land sale. He couldn’t just tell them to stop, and they wouldn’t do it solely because he’d said so.
I swallowed a wave of nausea.
I probably should’ve eaten more, but we’d planned to get appetizers after we danced and drank for a while. As the oldest of the group and the most experienced around alcohol, I should’ve pointed out that food came first.
The music grew louder as we entered. The place was certainly nicer than any club I’d ever been to, which was very few.
Mirrors and glass on walls and columns reflected soft light. So much black. Any touches of color were a subdued neon along the silver accents. If old money was high-back chairs and floral wallpaper and Victorian-style clutter, then Glitter & Gold was new money. Youthful wealth. It was the bitcoin millionaire who’d remembered his password and pulled all his cash in time. It was the finance bro. It was the “how to become a millionaire before thirty by investing” influencer.
I didn’t spot my friends right away, but part of me didn’t want to look for them. Sure, I’d urged them to go in without me. But I’d stuck around, waiting, hoping they’d realize there was nothing here worth ditching me for.
No such luck.
Gideon didn’t stop to ask about them, and I didn’t stop to ask him about them.
A woman with buzzed sides and longer purple-dyed hair on top stopped by us. She was wearing a stylish tux with a gold vest that hugged her curves as she carried a tray. “Are you going to your usual spot, Mr. James?”
“Yes. Bring us a bottle of Rosé Vintage.” He directed his gaze at me. In the dim club, his eyes were vivid green, like tractor beams I couldn’t escape—if I wanted to. “Do you have any special requests?”
I didn’t have to wait at the bar and hope to get noticed in less than twenty minutes? The wait was one of the reasons I liked tending bar at Copper Summit. I made everyone feel seen.
Gideon and the server waited for my answer. I needed food, but I didn’t want to be uncouth and ask if they had anything edible. Who knew what I’d get served in Vegas. “A Bloody Mary with extra celery and load up on the olives, please. Make it a whole salad.” I laughed nervously. The heat of Gideon’s stare was on me.
The server’s lips curled into a sexy smile. “Of course.”
“Oh—and can I get it with bourbon instead? Do you carry any Copper Summit in-house?”
Her smile dipped. “I’m sorry. No Copper Summit is served on Silver property.”
I rolled a Really? gaze toward Gideon.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Give her the Pappy, Sera.”
She dipped her head and was off.
“Pappy,” I scoffed, failing to be unimpressed.
“You don’t care for it?”
I adored Pappy Van Winkle. Daddy had splurged when we were all past the Bailey acceptable age for tasting bourbon and bought a bottle. Copper Summit was an excellent bourbon, but we were just starting to price our bottles in the mid-three figures. “It’s just how you casually ordered a thousand-dollar bourbon. For a cocktail .”
The ghost of a smile was back, but his gaze intensified. “You’re mistaken. Sera knows the Pappy I mean is a bottle of twenty-four-year-old family reserve. It’s five grand a bottle.”
I choked. “What?” Excitement welled inside me until it pushed up through my chest and a smile exploded. “I don’t know if Daddy would be proud or horrified that I get to have Pappy in a mixed drink like it’s bottom shelf— Oh.” Five grand a bottle? “I didn’t tend enough bar this summer to afford that.” I could afford the whole bottle, but I didn’t want to spend my savings on another company’s spirits. Both sets of my parents had instilled a sense of fiscal responsibility. My birth parents because of how they’d lost everything, and my adoptive parents because they couldn’t help themselves.
“You think I’m putting it on your tab?” His eyes glittered as he considered me. “You’re my guest, Autumn.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
There was a why. I just didn’t know it yet. My best guess was that he was a predator, and I looked like a scared fawn if there ever was one. Maybe he liked to toy with his kills. Maybe he was planning a bigger humiliation for me than getting rejected for my schoolteacher fashion style. Maybe. But I’d go down drinking damn good bourbon.
“Oh! I like this song.” I whipped my head back and forth, my hair flying. An electric dance song pulsed and a roar came from the dance floor.
Gideon had taken his suit coat off and hung it on the hook at the corner booth. The server had offered to take it for him. Was that a thing? His arms were stretched on either side. The Rosé Vintage he’d ordered was a Dom Pérignon. Half of the bottle was gone, and I was on my third bourbon Bloody Mary.
I popped a plump green olive into my mouth. I’d had close to an entire jar of olives, a full bunch of celery, and a pint of cherry tomatoes. Those were a delight to find impaled on a stick in my drink .
I wiggled to the music.
“I should find my friends.” I didn’t have to yell, this seat was fairly isolated, but I was fueled by Pappy. Still, I could shout, and I wouldn’t bother anyone.
The booth had a curtain! When I asked if the seats would glow under a black light, I’d gotten a funny look from Gideon. Was he regretting whatever he’d said to the bouncers?
“Why are you worried about your friends?”
I lifted a shoulder. I wasn’t missing them. I had zero messages on my phone. For the first two drinks, I’d asked Gideon about Silver and what his job entailed. He’d told me about upcoming renovations, which was crazy. The casino had opened only five years ago and it was considered outdated?
“They might worry.” I took a tomato off the spear.
Guilt was starting to build, making my neck itch, when he pointed to the dance floor. “Is your crew out there?”
I had to lean close to him to see the dance floor. This booth had a view of the whole club, but there were a ton of writhing bodies on the dance floor. I spotted Brittany’s topknot. Kaitlyn and Destiny were behind her next to an attractive guy with his shirt half-unbuttoned. He was either sweaty or he had a lot of hair product in. Either one was Destiny’s type.
“They’re doing well,” I said, a bit too chipper.
“You want to join them?” His voice was deceptively casual, but his gaze was shrewd.
“No.” The crestfallen feeling had nothing to do with whether I wanted to dance or not. At least I didn’t have to lie about that part. I didn’t want to join friends who were having a grand time and had forgotten about the friend they’d left behind. “I don’t dance. Not like that anyway.”
“How do you dance?”
“Privately.”
A dark brow notched up.
A fire ignited in my cheeks. “Smaller venues. More subdued music. Like, I’d dance to this stuff at home. I can’t just let loose on a dance floor. What about you?” I reclined against the back of the booth. The seat was really comfortable, but I also hadn’t eased away from him when I’d leaned over to find my group.
“I don’t dance like that either.”
I nodded knowingly. “Private dancer.”
He chuckled. “No, firecracker. Not privately either.”
“Firecracker?”
“Red’s a gimme.”
I practically preened at the nickname. Gideon James was not the cold man I’d expected. He wasn’t warm and fuzzy either, but the alcohol was making me warm enough for both of us. “Cinnamon?”
“Not when you smell so sweet.” Then he clenched his jaw like he hadn’t meant to say that.
I giggled and took a long drink of my Bloody Mary. I should ask for a glass of Pappy just to savor, but I liked the decadence, like I was wealthy enough to mix the drink with pond water if I wanted. Daddy always joked that was the difference between his generation and ours. There wasn’t a bourbon Wynter and I wouldn’t mix in our recipes.
“It’s my lotion. I get really dry skin.” I held an arm up and the room spun. I switched to grabbing another olive instead. “I’m the opposite of a firecracker.”
“And what’s that? ”
I wrinkled my nose. A dud. I wasn’t admitting that to the guy all the servers scuttled around. He was like royalty. “You rule this place.”
“It’s my job.”
“My job is to be in charge of twenty-two little humans, but they don’t say ‘yes, ma’am’ or ‘no, ma’am’ like Sera.”
Just then, Sera appeared with another veggie-loaded drink and a small tray.
I laughed. It was more like a guffaw, but maybe the music would drown out the sound. Gideon’s gaze was on me, but he didn’t roll his eyes like my brothers did when I got a little tipsy and spoke too loudly. “I said your name and you appeared.”
Sera’s smile was either genuine, or she was damn good at her job. She made me feel special. “I brought the charcuterie tray you requested, sir.”
I squealed and clapped my hands. I got salt cravings when I drank. “Yessss.”
She rattled off names of meats and cheeses as she pointed to each one, but I didn’t care. It could be a Lunchable. I was hungry and the cheese looked delicious.
Gideon slid the fancy wooden cutting board closer to me.
“Aren’t you going to have some?” I asked, picking a thin slice of what was probably expensive prosciutto. What were the hard flakes of cheese again? I paired it with the meat.
“Help yourself.”
“I’ve helped myself to a lot.” I took a bite. Salty flavor burst over my tongue. My eyes rolled back and I moaned while I chewed .
I was making a spectacle of myself. I wasn’t usually this free, but something about Gideon cut through the self-consciousness. He was out of my league, and I assumed he hated my family, me included. If he dropped the bill on me thinking he’d get one over on a Bailey, I could cover it. I hadn’t had a treat like this in... ever.
I picked up a slice of something that had as much fat as meat and paired it with the hard cheese. I put it on top of the warm toasted bread that also had a fancy name. “Here.”
He looked from my fingers to me, then drew his arms off the back of the booth. He twisted to the side, gingerly took the food offering, and put it all in his mouth. The muscles of his jaw bunched as he chewed. How could eating be so... masculine?
I was mesmerized, watching his lips. He had a tiny crumb at the corner of his mouth.
I swiped it away, and his pupils dilated.
“Dang. Sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you.” I finished off my third Bloody Mary to distract myself from the slight scrape of stubble I’d felt. Did his whiskers defy the razor every day?
He chose the combination I’d first selected and held it up to my mouth. Was he feeding me? He gave me an expectant look.
Carefully, I snatched the compilation from him and popped it into my mouth. I might get stuck with the bill. The thought helped dull the thrill. I was not Gideon’s type. I swallowed hard.
He hated my family. Remember?
My memory seemed to be a sieve where he was concerned tonight.
“I saw you storm out,” I blurted as if to remind him he didn’t like me. In case he’d forgotten. “When you were at Copper Summit last spring.”
His eyes flickered. The pupils that had dilated when I fed him were now smaller, more intent. “You caught that.”
“I was working in the bar.”
He didn’t look at me as he pieced together more meat and cheese. He put the combo on a cracker this time. “I didn’t realize the bar was open that early.”
“We are, but I was doing the books.”
He slid his gaze toward me, then back to the food as he compiled another stack. Then he offered me one and made a second for himself.
I popped an olive off drink number four and gave it to him. “I bet this will taste amazing with the softer cheese.”
“Olives are your favorite.”
“How’d you know?”
A slight arch of his brow brought a sweep of embarrassment. I’d gobbled the olives off my first two drinks. I’d maybe moaned once or twice. If I could’ve dived headfirst into the Bloody Mary, I would’ve.
I put the olive on the plate. “They are, but I can share what I like.”
“Is that what you teach the kids?”
I nodded. “I think it’s important to teach them when to share. Otherwise, it’s like a free-for-all.”
He paused with the stack of food close to his mouth. “Very true. My class could’ve used that lesson.”
“Yeah, it’s much more complicated than we give it credit for. But my students are also older too. It’s mostly learning to respect others’ property and knowing that you don’t have a claim to it just because it’s within the school’s walls.”
He chewed and propped an elbow close to my shoulder. When had we gotten closer?
“How do you have time to do the books when you teach full-time?”
The books for the bar were fairly simple compared to the rest of the distillery. What my brother Tenor did was more like conducting an orchestra with all the moving parts involved in the distillery. The bar was a teeny-tiny part, and I kind of resented that I only got so much say over it. When Wynter worked the bar more, the guys would defer to her. When I brought it up, they’d tell me I wasn’t around. I had a full-time job.
I wasn’t going to confess any of that to Gideon. “I have summers off. Other teachers can use the money from teaching summer school, and I have an easy second income. Besides, I like working in the bar and creating drinks.”
“You like mixology.”
I liked control. The patrons didn’t knock over their drinks nearly as often as kids spilled leaky water bottles. And when a tipsy customer spilled a drink, I didn’t have twenty other students commentating the event and the cleanup. Drunk patrons didn’t throw blame around quite as much as eight-year-olds, usually. Plus, tending bar didn’t require parent-teacher conferences.
I loved teaching, but I liked my breaks. Some days were exhausting. And just when I was sick of dealing with my brothers, I could go back to school and feel like I had some authority.
“I like creating fun drinks. Wynter and I got into it, but then she moved around. Now she’s back, but she’s working in—” I was going to say the offices, but that made it sound like the C-suite, which would imply I was just another part-time staff. I sort of was. “She works from home a lot with the new baby.”
His expression remained politely interested but, overall, impassive. “So you bartend?”
“I bartend. And do books.” I didn’t know why it was important for me to include that. He was the CEO of this entire building. Silver was like a small city, and Gideon was the mayor.
I poured drinks part-time and taught addition and subtraction and grammar full-time. I was proud of my work. Both jobs. But next to Gideon, I felt like the girl who’d been left in line when her hotter friends were let in.
“And the books,” he murmured and selected another piece of meat and cheese. He held the food up toward my mouth. “A real family business.”
I snatched it from his fingers. Surprise flitted through his dark gaze and the corner of his mouth quirked so slightly I almost missed it.
I chewed on my food. Whoever did their purchasing knew what they were doing. The flavor was excellent. Every part of this casino was meticulously run.
What was it like working for Gideon? He looked like he never smiled. Was he a tyrant or a fair boss?
My brothers were amazing guys—excellent to work for and all-around gentlemen. They also bought their own hype and could be frustrating.
“A real family business,” I parroted and collected more food. I assembled a crostini, some of the spicier meat, and the smoothest cheese. I held it out for him.
Instead of grasping the food, he circled his long fingers around my wrist. His tanned skin made my pale flesh stand out.
I watched—gaped—as he lifted my hand closer to his mouth. Then he took a deliberate bite.
He locked his gaze with mine as he chewed.
“Is it good?” I sounded ridiculous, but I had no idea what to say. No man as good-looking as Gideon James had eaten out of my fingers.
Had I fed any guy like this?
He gently took the remaining meat and cheese compilation and brought it to my lips.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. He wanted me to eat out of his hand?
I’d eat off this man’s chest.
I overshot my bite, thanks to the bourbon Bloody Mary, and my lips closed around his fingertips. Instead of being a sophisticated and sensual woman, I was a half-lit, sloppy girl.
But from the way his pupils dilated, I wasn’t sure he agreed. The idea was heady. Could I, Autumn Kerrigan, small-town teacher, do something that a Vegas CEO as powerful as Gideon James found sexy?
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple working up and down, completely mesmerizing, and watched my lips as I finished chewing.
I couldn’t break eye contact as Sera appeared to deliver another drink for me, loaded with even more olives than all the others had been.
“You tell me, firecracker. Is it good?”
“Very.” My attention wasn’t on my taste buds. The green in his eyes caught the dim lights overhead.
He shifted to face me more fully, like he was going to tell me a secret. “What’s it like working for the family business?”
“Tate’s in charge of Bailey Beef. Teller’s in charge of Copper Summit. Summer manages the Bozeman location. The daily operational and financial decisions are made by them. Larger ones that affect the whole company need all of us. We’re the board.”
His attention intensified. “And your spouses?”
My excitement swelled. “Tate’s wife works with me at the school. We were friends before they married.” She wouldn’t have left me outside the club. “Wynter’s husband runs his own distillery—Foster House.”
A dark brow lifted. “I’ve heard of it.”
“Summer’s husband has his own successful business. I don’t know. Maybe if a spouse wanted to be a part of the company, they’d get hired on.” I took another drink and set my glass on the table. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I folded them on my lap, but with the way I was sitting, the angle was uncomfortable. I looked like I was posing for family pictures.
He took my hand and my heart stammered. His rough thumb stroked over my knuckles. “Maybe what I’m asking, Autumn Kerrigan, is why you’re not married.”
A thready laugh eked out of me. Gideon James wanted to know why I was single.
Maybe what I’m asking . . .
It wasn’t what he was asking, it was why.