Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“It’s ten in the morning.” My dad’s voice has me turning to look at him over the rim of my crystal tumbler.
“That why you’re drinking at ten in the morning?” he asks.
“No, I just thought we were stating pointless facts.” I shrug.
My father isn’t impressed with my comment. His face is stony and his eyes squint at me. Not a look I’m unaccustomed to receiving. “I want you to help your mother with her event this weekend. She’ll be in today to show the event staff around the ballroom.”
There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my mother, but why the fuck does he want me to help her with this? “Why?”
“Because I asked you, and she’s feeling lost with Frankie gone. Hudson is never home and you’re, well, the only time you come home is for family dinners.”
Guilt eats at me. “Things have been busy,” I say. It’s a lame excuse. I should make more of an effort to visit my mother. My father, I see every day here at the office, but my mom doesn’t come in that much.
“You get on top of the Olive Group?”
The current pain in my fucking ass. The Olive Group is attempting to buy their way into my city.
There is no chance in hell I’m going to allow that to happen.
They come in, buy up buildings, knock ?em down, and rebuild.
The thing I don’t like? The fact that they rebuild fancy fucking offices that retail at high rates.
The local business owners would never survive the hit.
They wouldn’t be able to afford the rental rate of a new build.
There’s also the fact that our family currently controls the majority of the Las Vegas Strip, and we don’t want or need strangers moving in on our turf. It won’t be good for any of our businesses, legitimate or otherwise.
“I’m on it. No one is talking to them,” I tell my father. “I’ve made sure they all know what’s at stake if they sell to the Olive Group.”
There’s a reason my family is at the top of the food chain in this city. Blood, sweat, and money speak volumes when you’re ruling a kingdom and I’m not afraid to spill any one of those things.
“What time is Mom coming in?” I ask, looking at my watch.
“She’ll be here in about thirty.”
Fuck.
Putting the glass down, I pick up a bottle of water and walk into the adjoining bathroom. Then I grab up my toothbrush, squirt some paste on it, and go about brushing my teeth.
My father stands in the doorway, watching me with a smirk on his face. “Scared of your mama knowing you’re drinking this early in the day, Alfie?”
I’m not scared of my mother. I’m just not in the mood to listen to a lecture about being responsible and looking after my body.
My body is just fine. I work out and eat healthy.
My liver might be shit with the amount of liquor I consume, but I’m not an alcoholic.
I just like whiskey. It helps take the edge off a stressful day.
It might only be ten in the morning, but I’ve been here since ten last night. It’s the end of the work day for me.
“I’m not scared of Mom,” I say around my toothbrush. “I just don’t want to kiss her smelling like a brewery. It’s called respect.” I spit into the sink and rinse my mouth.
“Sure, that must be it,” Dad says. “I’m heading out. Make sure your mother gets whatever she needs for this event.”
I scowl at him. I don’t need to be told to take care of my mother. I will always make sure she gets what she needs. “I’m not a fucking idiot,” I grumble.
“Could have fooled me,” Dad grunts. “Also, check in on your brother sometime today.”
“Why? What’s Hudson done now?” I really don’t have time to babysit his ass.
“He and Aiden went to LA two days ago. He came back with a black eye. Find out what the fuck those idiots got up to.”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“I didn’t ask. Besides, he’s more likely to tell you than me. You’re less scary.” Dad laughs.
Less scary, my ass. My father might be the king of this town, but it’s me he’s groomed to take that spot on the throne. I am made in his image. But better, more improved. Where he might have morals, I choose to push mine deep down and get the job done.
He won’t admit it, but he fears my mother’s wrath if he steps too far over that gray line. Me? I don’t have anyone to answer to, and I plan to keep it that way.
“I’ll stop by the house on the way home,” I tell my dad.
“Thanks.”
Heading down to the casino floor, I make a beeline for the Starbucks and order two coffees. It’s not likely to help ward off the fatigue. But it’s worth a shot, and my mother loves her coffee.
I lean against the counter as I wait for my order, my eyes scanning the people filling the tables in the small space. That’s when I spot her. Molly Olive, aka the CEO of the Olive Group. What the fuck is she doing here?
The email I read on her this morning stated her last known location was in her office yesterday, in fucking Seattle.
A smile spreads across my face when I see her frown at her computer. Whatever she’s looking at, she’s not impressed. Miss Olive is obviously here trying to complete the task her team has failed to do. It’s not going to work.
I let my gaze linger on her a little longer than I should.
I’m momentarily stunned by her beauty. I knew she was a good-looking woman, but the photos I received did not do her justice.
Because in person, she’s fucking gorgeous.
Her brown hair is long, pulled back into a ponytail.
She’s wearing a white dress that does absolutely nothing to hide her curves, well, those that I can see from where I’m standing.
There are also little freckles dotting her nose.
“Here you go, Mr. Giuliani.” The server’s voice draws me out of my trance. I take the two Venti-sized cups he holds out in my direction.
“Thanks. How long has she been there?” I ask, nodding towards Molly Olive.
“About an hour, sir,” the server replies.
“Thanks. Send her over another coffee and a muffin on me. But keep it between us,” I tell him.
Right as I’m about to exit, my mother walks in. “Alfie, hey.” She smiles wide as she approaches me.
My lips press against her cheek and then I step back. “This is for you.”
“You got me coffee?”
“Yeah, Dad said something about you showing some assholes around the ballroom?” I say.
“He did not say assholes.” My mother frowns. “Did he?”
“No, I was paraphrasing. What’s this event for anyway?” I ask her.
“You waiting for something else?” Mom looks to the counter.
“Yeah, give me a minute,” I tell her.
“Okay, the ball is a charity event for a shelter,” Mom says. “It’s to help fund education courses for homeless teens.”
I nod. “Good cause,” I say genuinely.
My mother is always doing something for charity. Some of them are more worthwhile than others, though. Providing education to young girls who wouldn’t otherwise be able to access it is a good cause.
“It is. So, what are you waiting for?” Mom asks.
I watch over her head as the server places a coffee and muffin on the table in front of Molly. When he leaves, she looks around the room, her eyes stopping on me.
My lips tilt up slightly. Returning my focus to my mother, I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “We can go now.”
“What? I thought you were…” Her sentence falls short when I start leading her out of the coffee shop, right past Molly Olive, who is still staring at me. “Alfie, what are you doing?” Mom whispers out the side of her mouth.
“Going to the ballroom with you to make sure your event has everything it needs,” I tell her.
“No, what are you doing with that young woman back there.” Mom turns to look over a shoulder.
“Absolutely nothing.” I laugh.
“Don’t lie to your mother, Alfie,” Mom scolds.
“She’s the CEO of the Olive Group. She’s in town trying to purchase some buildings. I’m preventing those sales from going through.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t want or need the Olive Group moving into town,” I explain. “Now, tell me all about this event of yours.”
“You’re really that interested?” Mom eyes me skeptically.
“Yes,” I lie.
“Great, then I can expect to see you there on Saturday night, and you can drag your brother along with you.”