CHAPTER 39 Dex Bradley
The Lounge
It’s the worst possible timing for her to bring up coming with me to the lounge.
The illegal underground lounge is opening for the first time this weekend. My father expects me to be the liaison who invites the whales down there on Tuesday when I’m there. I can’t have Ainsley tailing me while I’m doing that.
She’s the only woman I want. It probably looks to the general public as if I’m slipping back into old habits, but I’m not. The only woman who means a single damn thing to me is at home raising my kid.
She’s right.
Most of the time, I’m treating her like a nanny, but she’s my wife.
What a strange situation we find ourselves in. How do I differentiate between the two when I’m paying her to do a job? How do I make sure I’m putting in equal time when I simply can’t do that because I’m not home?
The lines are blurring, and I’m starting to fear she’s retreating.
I’m worried she’ll get sick of this and leave me and Jack, and then what the fuck will I do?
On the other hand, what if she stays because of Jack but not because of me? Wouldn’t that be even worse?
There has to be a solution out there, something I’m not thinking of.
Because I don’t even have a goddamn second to think for myself anymore. If I’m not at practice, I’m at the lounge. I get a few hours here and there with Ainsley, but mostly she’s left alone with my kid.
This isn’t the life she was expecting when she came to Vegas, but she got tossed headfirst into it anyway.
She takes the baby out for a walk in the jogger, and I use the opportunity to call my father.
“Are you ready for tomorrow night?” That’s how he answers the call.
I blow out a breath. “I have a problem. I can’t be involved in the underground shit tomorrow night.”
“It’s your first night. Figure out a solution.”
“It’s not that simple,” I say.
“What’s going on?”
“My wife. She wants to know why I haven’t invited her to the lounge. If you weren’t so goddamn loud about it, trying to attract big clients, I might’ve gotten away with brushing her off.”
“Find a way,” he hisses.
“I can’t. It’s my marriage on the line. She wants to see the lounge, and I have to bring her there tomorrow night or she’ll suspect something’s up.”
“Then bring her, sit her at a table, and let her learn how to play while you invite the clients with the most money downstairs.”
“Fine.” I end the call without a goodbye.
When she returns from her walk, I’m in the kitchen preparing lunch for all three of us. Or, rather, I’m taking the soup and salad spread I had delivered out of the packaging and warming a bottle.
“What’s all this?” she asks.
“Lunch. Welcome back from your walk.”
She narrows her eyes at me, and then she gets Jack out of his carrier. “I’d invite you to come with next time, but then I might not get lunch, so forget it.”
I chuckle, and I nod toward the table. She buckles Jack into his highchair while I arrange the food on the table, and I help Jack with his bottle.
At eight months, he’s getting decently good at holding it for himself now when we sit him in his chair, and I also spread some puffs on his tray since he’s getting good at attempting to eat them.
Or knock them on the floor, depending on his mood. Mostly he knocks them on the floor.
“I’d like to invite you to come with me to the lounge tomorrow night,” I say.
She raises both brows in what appears to be complete shock. “Are you sure?”
No. “Yes.”
“What about Jack?”
“I thought about Madison, but she’s back in school now, and it’ll be a late night. One of my buddies on the team has a baby, and he said Jack could crash there for a night.”
One of the Aces’ tight ends has a son who just turned one in June, and he can’t stop raving about how great his wife is with the baby. I texted him to ask, and he said yes.
“What buddy?” she asks.
“Asher.”
“Oh, yes. I love Desi, and Jack and Jake will be cute together,” she says.
“Yeah. I was thinking he could spend the day there so you could have a day off, and then maybe we can grab him together and go out to dinner on Wednesday night after practice?”
“That sounds great.”
I nod. “I also thought about what you said about the stepmom versus nanny blur, and I realize I’m paying you to nanny, but I want you in whatever role you feel most comfortable in.
” I hold up a hand. “This is your place now, too. I think we both want that to be true for more than the terms of our contract.”
She nods, and she tilts her head as her eyes seem to get a little misty.
“I hired you as a nanny knowing I wouldn’t be around as much when I’m in season, and I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear,” I say. “We should set clearer boundaries, and if we need to schedule time off each day for you to do the things you want, then let’s do it.”
“I’d like that. And I knew you’d be busier. I just miss having you around, that’s all.”
“I miss being around, too. For both of you.” I turn to look at Jack, who’s in the process of emptying his tray by sweeping his hands back and forth across it so the puffs go flying, and he giggles his little baby giggle as he does it.
He lightens up the mood in here, but I’m glad we had this talk even though I’m nervous about what tomorrow night will bring.
* * *
We drop off Jack together on the way to the lounge, and the women disappear into the kitchen with the boys while Asher glances at me. “Where you off to tonight?”
“My dad’s running a VIP lounge, and he wants me to make an appearance. You interested?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, thanks. I gave up gambling a long time ago.”
I recall him being suspended for a season for betting on the outcome of games, but I’m the last person who would judge anyone for the decisions they make, considering I’ve had enough of my own interesting choices over the years.
When we get to the lounge, Ainsley takes in every inch of opulence the place offers, and cameras snap in our faces as we enter.
“Wow,” she breathes beside me. She’s wearing a glittery blue gown, and she looks gorgeous. I’m certain I don’t deserve her.
I’m surprised my father has people taking photos given the fact that we’re escorting some of the wealthier players downstairs this evening, but the underground portion has been open since Friday, and so far, it’s Vegas’s newest best-kept VIP secret.
I just need to keep Ainsley in the dark, too, and I’ll be golden.
I hate keeping things from her, but I have to. It’s for her own good.
I wish I didn’t know about it, either.
But I do, and I plan to make a shit ton of money out of the deal.
“This is gorgeous, Dex. So luxurious. Not at all what it looks like in the photos.” The place isn’t a typical dark casino. This lounge is the essence of luxury, and it’s all white and gold, from the leather chairs to the white marble floors with gold veins.
We take a few photos, and I introduce her to some of the workers, including the men my father has chosen to run this place. I’m not running it—I’m simply a celebrity host who stops in on occasion to drum up business.
These guys are the real brains behind the operation, I guess.
We get some drinks and mingle a bit as I introduce Ainsley as my wife, and I know it’s getting to the time where I need to start moving some of the guests downstairs.
“Why don’t you play some Texas Hold’em while I entertain a few of my dad’s clients?” I suggest.
She looks a little annoyed that I’m ditching her, but I don’t really have much choice here. Riding a line for my own safety is one thing. Involving her is another thing entirely.
I recall my father telling me that the feds were on his tail when he first presented this idea to me months ago. I can’t help but wonder who, aside from the FBI, might be tailing him. Who has he pissed off, and am I safe from them or not now that he’s got me involved?
I won’t do the same thing to Ainsley and Jack that my father did to me.