Chapter 6 #2
Trying to push the image out of my head, I say, “Yes. It’s almost ten.”
“I thought your meeting with the land owner was yesterday.”
“It was, and my meeting in California isn’t until Monday. This was a different kind of meeting.”
Bennett is silent for a second before he responds, his voice a bit harder. “What kind of meeting?”
Here goes nothing. “One with Leonardo Morales and Santiago Reyes.”
There’s no need to tell him who they are affiliated with. He knows. Oh, Bennett knows the Muertos cartel well.
“Fucking hell.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, probably trying to process what I just said. “What was the meeting about?”
This question is better than getting an earful about how I shouldn’t have taken the meeting. “They have a business proposition, one that can benefit all of us involved, but if we do it, we’re going to need to talk to Dante about it. It would mean possibly moving product across state lines.”
“Possibly?”
“It’s not a done deal. They are waiting to see if their deal here in Vegas goes through, and if it doesn’t, then they want to see about moving their product north.”
Bennett is silent for a lot longer this time. He takes a full two minutes before he gives me any sort of response.
“Do you think brining Muertos into the city would be a good idea?” His tone isn’t condescending. He’s truly asking for my opinion.
My answer comes out quickly, which surprises me.
“I do. People are going to be looking for what they provide whether we have control of it or not. Us knowing they are in the city and what they are doing would give us an upper hand. We can regulate things a bit better, get city officials on our side if needed.”
The other side of the line goes silent once more, but not for as long as I expected.
“Okay. Don’t agree to anything just yet. We have to talk to Dante first, and then we can go from there.”
“Sounds good. I’ll stop by the manor when I get back to Chicago.”
And with that, the call ends, and I decide to pour myself a drink to celebrate a deal that could possibly make me millions.
* * *
Instead of staying in my suite and grabbing a drink from the bar there, I decided to head down to the casino floor of my hotel.
During all my travels, I learned I don’t like being in a hotel room for an extended period of time. I like being around the noise, around the people. So, I tend to spend a lot of time exploring places, which is why I fucking hate having security when I go somewhere.
Given who my family is, the amount of money I have to my name, and the fact that my face is all over social media, I should have someone watching my back and making sure I don’t get accosted.
Still, I would rather not go through the trouble of dealing with extra bodies around me.
I don’t ditch security all the time—only when I know I want to explore.
Like this weekend.
Besides, I’d much rather have security making sure Samantha and Grayson are taken care of. I can add Drake to the list, but the kid’s at school with more security than a military fort. He should be fine.
I make my way through the high roller room at the Aria Resort, playing a few hands of blackjack and losing a few thousand before making my way to the bar on the other side of the casino. It’s a small, dark place, but it’s hidden enough that I can have a drink without much fanfare.
Word got around this morning that I was spotted in Vegas, so there’s no doubt a few people are out and about possibly trying to get a glimpse of me. I’ll let them catch a glimpse, but I won’t socialize.
As a waitress brings over my tumbler of scotch, I take in the place. For what it is, it’s a nice bar. It’s not overly crowded and doesn’t have loud music playing, meaning you can actually hear yourself talking. But even if it’s a nice place, the atmosphere isn’t what I need right now.
I need to be around people my age, not girls trying to find a sugar daddy.
It’s times like these when I wish I had close friends. I have acquaintances. I have people who look at me as a bank. I have people who simply see me as someone rich and famous in their contacts. I have people, but not someone to shoot the shit with. I haven’t had an actual friend since—
Nope.
Not going to even think about that asshole. If I do, it’s possible Samantha will find out and fly to Vegas just to kick my ass for doing so.
My body shutters at the thought.
Needing to get out of this negative head space, I down the rest of my scotch, close out my tab, and head back out onto the casino floor.
For a solid minute, I stand there, trying to think about where to go next.
I can go back to the high roller room, lose a couple grand more.
Or I can go to one of the many clubs the strip has to offer.
The last one is tempting, very fucking tempting, but I’d rather not. There’s a chance I’ll get plastered, and it will end up being a viral moment by seven in the morning.
My stomach growls, and hearing it tells me exactly what I should do: get food.
Since I don’t feel like eating anything this hotel has to offer, I decide to get something somewhere else. Walking outside and feeling the cool breeze feels better than the scorching heat. It feels nice, but it’s not enough to make me like this place. Vegas is still very much a hellhole.
I make it over to the hotel next door, moving through the people until I reach the long hallway to the one place I know I will be able to get a good slice of pizza.
Surprisingly, for a place usually packed to the brim, there is nobody in line, so I’m able to just walk in and cue up right behind a blonde.
I’m only looking at her back, but something about her feels familiar.
Have I seen her before?
She must be someone I’ve seen these last two days and my mind is just noticing the familiarity.
I try to look away from her, but my eyes seem to always find a way back.
She’s like a magnet, more so when she moves from one leg to the other, her hips moving with the motion, her ass grabbing all my attention.
I must know her somehow, because as soon as she speaks, my body lights up as if she is singing to it.
“Can I have three cheese slices? All three of them with pepperoni, pepperoncini, mushrooms, and ricotta, please?”
Her voice is sweet, calming—definitely not one I’ve heard before. I know that for a fact. I would have remembered a voice like that. I would have remembered her.
My eyes stay on her as talks to the guy behind the counter, and they continue to stay on her when she turns and catches my stare.
I take a second or two to take her in. I don’t know her.
I’ve never met this woman, but I have seen her.
She was the one I saw in the lobby yesterday.
A bellhop was talking to me about how he had gotten used to the heat after living in Vegas for twenty years, and as much as I wanted to listen to his riveting life history, I couldn’t concentrate.
Not when I caught the gaze of a woman who looked about my age and had the most mesmerizing face.
Something about her was pulling me in, and all I wanted to do was stop and talk to her, but my need to get out of my sweaty clothes took over.
I even thought about changing and going back down to the lobby to find her, but I had gotten a call from Drake and got distracted.
Now, she’s here in front of me, and it’s like my body jolts alive.
She’s pretty.
No. She’s absolutely breathtaking.
And she makes me want to break my rule for the weekend.
I will not bring back a woman, or women, to my room. I’m here for work and not for my dick to have fun.
But looking into the brown eyes starting back me, wide and full of wonder, I want to break that rule with everything I have.
“Hello,” I say, trying to break the trance she put me in.
Apparently, I’m not the only one, because her eyes go wide, as if she is embarrassed I caught her staring.
I let out a small chuckle; I was the one starting at her first.
“Um. Hi. Sorry.” She gives me a nervous smile before a blush creeps up her neck, and she turn backs to face the counter, moving her eyes from me.
I chuckle again as the guy behind the counter takes my order—it’s a bit hard when the only thing my mind can concentrate on is the woman standing next to me.
“And I will pay for her slices,” I say to the guy, pointing to the beautiful woman.
The woman turns back to look at me. “Oh. No. It’s fine. You don’t have to do that. I got it.”
She sounds a bit nervous. It’s cute.
“I want to. Besides, you caught me starting. It’s the least I can do.” I send a wink her way, and the blush on her face becomes more prominent.
A closed-mouth smile shows up on her face. “Thank you.”
I throw a smile in her direction and take care of the two bills. As soon as I get my credit card back, I stuff it in my wallet and then turn to look for the blonde.
She’s standing in the corner, looking down at her phone, more than likely trying not to make things more awkward between us than they already are.
I have two options. I can take a seat at one of the bar stools about six feet away from her, or I can stand next to her and act like the two of us actually know each other.
My body feels a pull to her, so I decided to go with option two.
Just because I can’t take women back to my room this weekend doesn’t mean I can’t get her name or talk to her.
I walk over and stretch out my hand.
“Hi, I’m Elliot, the guy who just bought your pizza.”
She jumps a little at the sound of my voice, and for a second, I think she’s going to just ignore me, but she slides her phone into her back pocket when she looks up and takes my hand.
“Hi. Aria.”
Aria.
It fits her.
“Aria is a pretty name. It suits you,” I say, bringing out the charm. Do I need to be flirting with someone in the middle of a pizza place? No, but I really don’t want to stop—even more so when Aria bites on her bottom lip and looks down to hide just how my flirting affects her.
“Thank you,” she says somewhat shyly before she shakes her head to compose herself. “Thank you for the pizza as well. You really didn’t need to do that.”
I throw a smile at her. “Like I said, I wanted to.”
“Well, I appreciate it.” She gives me a smile, a full one this time, and I can’t help but send one back her way.
“In Vegas for work?” I ask.
Aria shakes her head no. “Girls’ weekend. Me and my best friend.”
“And you’re on pizza duty?”
She lets out a giggle I swear goes to my dick. I’m going to get a boner in the middle of a pizza parlor. Perfect.
“No. She met a hot guy who legit swept her off her feet and took her to dinner.”
“Damn. If you were my best friend, I wouldn’t have left you by yourself, let alone for some guy.”
Another giggle leaves her, and I like hearing it a little more than I should. I can see it becoming an addiction.
“I forced her to go. Trust me, she didn’t want to leave me.
She just got out of a relationship and desperately needed a distraction; her going to dinner with this guy is just that.
Besides, I’ve been drinking since yesterday afternoon.
I needed a break from all the alcohol. I thought I would spend my night with a face mask and some pizza. ”
I’m about to suggest I keep her company, but I’m stopped when one of the guys behind the counter calls my name.
Which I guess is a blessing, but that doesn’t mean my dick or I like it.
After grabbing the slices of pizza, I walk back to Aria, handing her her order. I’m about to suggest we find a table for us to sit and eat, but again, I’m stopped.
This time by Aria herself.
“Thank you again for the pizza.” She starts to step away from me with me a smile. “It was nice meeting you, Elliot.”
And with that, she walks away before I can even say anything, my eyes trailing behind her. I’m left standing there like a dumb fuck in the middle of the restaurant.
What the fuck just happened?
Am I losing my touch? Because I think I just cockblocked myself with pizza.