Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
The following day, Bridget, Paul, William, and I make our way up to the infamous Bliss suites under construction.
The hallway is filled with workers applying finishing touches, the emblems on their T-shirts unfamiliar. “We’re not using Sallee Construction?” I say. “I thought we had an agreement with them.”
Paul pushes open a wide double door. “They were unavailable.”
That doesn’t sound right. Lewis’s construction company has a long-standing relationship with Blue Casino. I make a mental note to give Lewis a call.
The first thing that strikes me as we enter the suite is the sheer size of the space. Just seeing the floor plan didn’t prepare me. The main living area is at least three times the normal size of a luxury suite at Blue.
Modern burnt-red sofas and chairs covered in thick plastic provide seating.
The floors are a deep ebony hardwood with plush white area rugs that have been rolled off to the side.
A ten-person oblong onyx glass dining table with a white base and acrylic chairs presides over the back of the room.
The glass and chrome fixtures are also covered in plastic, the walls made of the same ebony hardwood as the flooring, creating a den-like feel.
There was nothing like Bliss previously at Blue Casino. Only one suite at my father’s Club Tahoe resort comes close in terms of size and luxury, but the presidential room fails where Bliss succeeds in extravagance. And the presidential room at Club Tahoe runs several thousand dollars per night.
There’s something wrong with the Bliss venture.
For one, why the secrecy? The Bliss suites are nearly complete, and the casino hasn’t made a single mention of them to the public.
The amount of money that went into their construction has to be astronomical.
Any company footing that kind of bill would be gearing up promotion.
“What are the suites for?” I say quietly, but Paul’s eyes dart my way, confirming he heard me.
“Bridget,” he says. “Go see Eve. She’ll fill you in on the supplies we’ll need for the bedrooms.”
Bridget nods and walks over to where Eve is talking to a contractor. After a brief greeting, Eve leads Bridget into one of the bedrooms.
“Well?” I say, once the women are out of earshot.
Paul glances at William and tilts his head to the construction manager. William walks over and takes up where Eve left off.
“The Bliss suites are exclusive,” Paul finally says.
I watch the workers, but my attention is on the slick manager who’s been dishing out crumbs of information on a venture I’m beginning to question. “Define exclusive. The suites are massive and well appointed. How do you expect to keep them filled?”
“Each patron that wants in pays a premium for part ownership of the Bliss line of suites. Your family owns Club Tahoe. Think of it as a golf resort membership.”
“Our members pay over a quarter of a million dollars for club and golf access, and then an annual fee on top of that.”
Paul looks over, his gaze sharp. “Precisely.”
I glance around the room. “Why would someone pay a quarter of a million for a penthouse they can rent for a few thousand a night?”
“Bliss isn’t just a suite, it’s an experience.
A seductive, top-of-the line experience for the pleasure-seeking connoisseur.
There will be women, like those in the burlesque show, who will provide our members with…
well, a taste of bliss, for lack of a better term.
Whatever a member desires, we want to provide.
At a premium cost, of course. Everyone who enters Bliss must be eighteen or over, and consenting. It’s in the contract members sign.”
I think about this town: the gaming, the drugs, and the rich, debauched bastards I grew up around at Club Tahoe. I lost my virginity to the thirty-five-year-old wife of a billionaire. There’s a wide range of debauchery, the least of which includes drugs.
I peer around. “What else besides access to prostitutes and gaming?”
“That’s roughly it. Don’t worry. Everyone will be kept safe, partly because everything is in-house.
That’s the beauty of Bliss. Membership is by invitation only and confidential, which was a requirement by the charter members.
” He nods toward the tall windows that, at six foot two, I’d have to jump to see out of.
“The celebrities don’t want paparazzi discovering their hideout.
We’ll have bodyguards, which I’m assuming you have under control. ”
“I’ve spoken to two men on the list you sent me. Neither of them graduated from high school, but they have quite the background in private bodyguard service. One of the candidates is an ex-Marine.”
Paul nods. “The bodyguards are a necessary precaution. One of many we put into place.” He points to the side of the room, past workers and covered furniture.
“One of these doors leads to a password-protected elevator that will take people to a regular floor, as well as the ground level in case of an emergency. A member had a heart attack with the first luxury suites we designed. It was a challenge to get the guy to a regular room before the ambulance arrived.”
I blink. “You’re joking. You risked some poor bastard’s life to hide his mistress?”
Paul shrugs. “He paid for privacy. The guy survived. Barely. And in case you’re wondering, he was the first to enroll in Bliss 2.0. If we hadn’t handled the situation as well as we did, he wouldn’t have come back.”
“Some people are masochists; that doesn’t make them the best judge of what’s good for them.”
Paul tips his chin toward one of the bedrooms. I walk into the room and he closes the door behind us.
“The casino isn’t in the business of worrying about what’s good for its patrons.
I thought you were in, Cade? Which is it—bonuses and prestige, or are you looking for another job?
And if you think you’re going to talk about the Bliss venture, you can think again.
Blue Casino will nail your ass to the wall for slander.
” My jaw tightens at the blatant threat.
He thrusts his hands in the slacks of his suit, his shoulders taut.
“Look, don’t try to go up against Blackwell.
You don’t understand the connections he has.
He’ll ruin you, and that’s if he’s feeling generous. Do you get my meaning?”
“I don’t think I do. Are you threatening my life?” The glare I level at him has him flinching.
He holds up a hand and the false smile returns.
“Not me. And it doesn’t have to come to that, as long as you keep your mouth shut.
But I need to know you’re all in.” He lets out a sigh.
“Come on, Adam, we chose you because you’re smooth under pressure.
No one knows who you are behind the cool facade you’ve got going.
That kind of discretion is what we were looking for.
You have the right temperament for the Bliss project. ”
I finally take in the bedroom. Few furnishings fill the space, but there’s a stripper pole at the foot of an oval mattress. The view into the bathroom reveals a six-person hot tub and mirrors on every wall. “It’s a hundred percent consensual? No one gets hurt?”
“Not unless they want to.” Paul crosses his hand over his chest. “Scout’s honor. And no one underage.”
I heard him the first time. It doesn’t fill me with confidence that Paul felt the need to give me that reassurance.
I tip my head back and stare at the ceiling. Another mirror up there as well, this one branded with the Bliss logo.
Sex, gaming, drinking, and who knows what else. But what do I care? At least in this environment there’s someone monitoring to make sure people don’t get out of hand.
Anyone who pays a quarter of a million for membership knows what he or she is getting into. I have to assume Blackwell’s found some loophole to keep everything on the up-and-up.
I may live to regret the decision, but for now…
“I’m in.”
I rub my eyes under my reading glasses, the words on the computer blurring, but not because I’m tired.
I can’t stop thinking about the blatant threat Paul made when he thought I might back out of the Bliss venture.
I’d beat the hell out of him if he ever tried anything, and he knows that.
This wasn’t about him. He was warning me about Blackwell and his connections.
A feminine throat clears, and I look up. Hayden is standing in the doorway to my office, and just like that, my concern evaporates and a new tension builds.
I rise and walk around my desk, leaning a hip against it and crossing my arms. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Usually, I’m the one tracking Hayden down. Purely for work purposes. And to gloat. Or goad. But hey, I’m keeping her alert. Wouldn’t want her to fall asleep on the job.
Her eyes are fixed on my glasses. “I was just…When did you get glasses?”
I pull off the black-rimmed reading glasses and toss them on my desk. “I’ve always had them. I don’t wear them all the time.”
She huffs out a breath. “That’s just great,” she mumbles.
“Excuse me?” This time, I didn’t intentionally frustrate her, so I’m interested in how I accomplished it so easily.
She plasters on a tight smile. “It’s nothing. I came because I wanted to know if you’ve heard anything about the burlesque dancers. Did William decide on subcontractors?”
I take in the unaffected expression she’s trying to pull off.
Then, because I can’t help myself, my gaze dips.
She’s wearing a navy skirt with small white polka dots and a sheer blouse that I’d be able to see through if it weren’t for that unfortunate camisole.
Hayden isn’t short, and in her nude heels, the top of her pretty head hits me at eye level.
The heels, I note, have a sexy strap across the ankle, sending images of binding her flashing through my mind, though I’m not normally into that.
With Hayden, all bets are off on what is normal for me. I can see myself doing a lot of things I wouldn’t normally do, just to rouse her, or—make her happy.
Where did that come from?
I clear my throat. “Hayden, are you trying to probe for inside information?”
She steps the rest of the way into my office and closes the door.
My heart rate increases at the thought of being alone with her, visions of her naked still close to the surface. I raise an eyebrow. “Do we need privacy?”
“Stop being difficult. It’s a simple question. I just want to know what company William settled on.” She moves next to me, tilting her sloped hip against my desk in a similar pose to mine, only her figure is a work of art. She reaches out and absently fingers my glasses.
I glance down. “You have a thing for glasses? I’d be happy to put them back on.”
She quickly withdraws her hand. “What? No!”
A knock sounds at the door, and Bridget’s head peeks around the corner. She looks from Hayden’s blushing face to me. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were in a meeting. Should I come back?”
“It’s fine, Bridget,” I say. “What can I do for you?”
She pushes the door open all the way, carrying her purse and a sheet of paper. “I’m off to go shopping. There are some things from…my previous place of employment that Eve wants me to pick up. In the gift shop,” she says carefully.
Given Bridget was a stripper before I hired her, I pinch the bridge of my nose, imagining exactly what Eve has in mind.
“Oh! Don’t worry,” Bridget adds quickly. “Eve ordered most of the items she needs online. There are just a few things my old work sort of…specialized in. A few products I recommended.”
I glance quickly to Hayden, whose brow is furrowed. “Yes. Fine,” I say. “You’ll be reimbursed.”
Bridget leaves and Hayden’s eyes narrow. “What was that about?”
“Nothing.”
Her delicate jaw shifts. “Why must you be so difficult? I’m trying to be civil here.”
“Civil,” I say, rolling the word over my tongue and studying her pert expression.
“Yes. Civil. We’re work friends, right?” Her look is almost eager now, which is new. Hayden has never expressed an interest in friendship, for business purposes or otherwise.
“Are we? I didn’t realize.”
“Forget it.” She turns to leave, but I grab her hand. She barely budges, keeping her distance, which is predictable. She wants something, and it’s not friendship.
I let go of her hand. “I apologize. Arguing with you is a bad habit.” I reach back and grab the edge of the desk I’m leaning against to keep from touching her again.
“Yes, we’re work friends. And no, I haven’t heard anything about whom William wants to hire for the burlesque, but I have a meeting with him next week.
I’m assuming the decision-making will take place then. ”
She smiles, but I don’t trust it. Hayden’s smiles are few and far between, and never aimed at me with any sort of honesty. “Was that so difficult?”
I tap my finger on the desk. “Is that all, or would you like me to put my glasses back on?”
Her face flushes and she swallows. “No. I should go.” She scurries out the door, and I stare at her hips swishing back and forth in agitation.
Sweet Hayden has a nerd fetish. I shouldn’t be surprised, given her bookish tendencies.
I return to my computer. It’s late, but I’ve got a busy week ahead.
I’d like these dozen or so interviews to go smoothly.
I enjoy interviewing about as much as I enjoy dinner with my father, which is to say, not at all.
The sooner the bodyguards and burlesque dancers are hired, the sooner I can keep Hayden from snooping and expressing undue interest in my business at Blue.
Bridget’s two-week anniversary and the day I win the bet with Hayden can’t come quickly enough.