6. Lily
CHAPTER 6
LILY
THREE WEEKS LATER
“H i! So, I hear you have a stray pit bull wandering around the blackjack tables,” I say, flashing a toothy grin at the head valet when he pulls open the door of the Las Vegas Animal Rescue van I’m driving.
“That’s right. Causing quite the disturbance for the whales in there,” the valet quips with a snicker. “You must be the savior.”
“That’s right. Just dial 1-800-SALVATION and boom! I’m here to help with all of your animal rescue needs.” I giggle and hop out onto the cobblestone driveway in front of the Excelsior Hotel and Casino as he pulls the van off to the side for me. It’s the hottest new property on the strip, and I can see the draw now that it’s up close and personal.
Glitz and glamour ooze out of the place, splashing onto the throngs of people my age scattered along the sidewalk, all eager to experience the luxe that is Excelsior. Chloe has been dying to go, but when I’ve mentioned it to Kat and Lindy, they’ve blown it off, saying it’s not worth our time when there are so many better places to party.
And it’s not like I have much time for fun, anyway. Not since I’m officially preparing for vet school and spend my spare time rescuing animals and helping to nurse them back to health. I started my work at the rescue a few weeks ago after deciding that I needed to restore focus on my future, not random hot guys who have no business taking up valuable real estate in my mind.
I adjust my glasses and turn to look up at the hotel. It looks like an actual palace with intricate architecture, lush foliage, wide marble columns, and lots of polished brass.
Very sleek. Very exquisite. Very glossy.
No wonder they freaked out when that dog moseyed into the lobby to check things out. And even more so when he pooped right in the center of the action. I stifle a giggle as I snake through the crowds of guys in their uniforms of untucked button-down shirts and jeans, and the girls in their mummy-wrap dresses that ride so high, any passers-by can appreciate a full moon both in the sky and down on the ground.
My ponytail streams behind me as I jog into the massive hotel. I’m not exactly dressed for a Friday night on the strip, and I probably smell like the animals at the shelter, but duty calls.
Literally.
A whoosh of cool air slaps me across the face as I walk farther inside. It’s like a greeting. Well, hello there, sucker! Come on in so we can take you for all you’re worth!
Ha. Not tonight.
I’m just here to rescue an unwanted guest and give him a new, albeit temporary, home. I hate that I can’t keep all of these rescues. The shelter keeps them safe and off the streets but they need loving families who will take care of them and cherish them forever.
And I’ve committed to fill that role for as long as I can.
I scour the lobby and see a space cleared in the middle of it, blocked off by obnoxiously bright orange cones. Nothing subtle about that.
There is also caution tape wrapped around the area, just in case somebody was blinded by all the neon. And there are about five guys hovering over the space on the floor. I start to walk toward them and a tall, blonde woman taps me on the shoulder and gives me a long, slightly critical once-over.
“You must be from Animal Rescue,” she says in a clipped tone. “Nice t-shirt, by the way.”
“I am. And thanks. It’s my favorite.” I smile, looking down. “My brother gave it to me.”
Dogs. Because People Suck.
Nico sent it to me as a gag gift a couple of months ago. He doesn’t know it’s become my unofficial uniform.
“It wasn’t really a compliment,” she says with a blatant eye roll, nodding her head toward what looks to be Ground Zero. “The dog is still loose, although we’ve got footage that places it near one of the restaurants.”
Shocker. It must be starving.
“It is also a rather menacing animal,” she continues. From the tone of her voice, I can tell she wants to frown but there must be so much Botox in her face that the movement is impossible. “It is not good for business to have it running around here. We’ve had reports of loud growling and barking.” The woman leans toward me, making sure to wrinkle her nose before continuing. “Security was contacted to escort it out the back after it deposited fecal matter all over the Italian marble floor, but the authorities insisted we contact you to handle it.”
I furrow my brow. Escort. That sounds like code for something else, something I’m pretty familiar with, courtesy of my bloodline. “You can’t just shoot a dog for wandering into your hotel!” I say, my voice rising. “What kind of evil, heartless jerks are you?” My pulse throbs against my neck, fists clenched at my sides. You can’t insinuate that you were about to shoot an innocent dog on my watch. Animals are my people, and I am so ready to go all Wolverine on her plastic ass for even uttering that threat!
“We’re the kind of people who understand perception is key to success. We try to attract a very specific type of clientele.” She narrows her eyes at me. “People unlike you . People who don’t want to be inconvenienced by a raggedy animal darting round the casino and ruining their experience. People who actually get dressed up for a visit to the new ‘it’ hotel on the strip. People, whom I am certain, don’t own t-shirts like that .” She gives a casual shrug. “It’s just a class difference. That’s why people come here. That’s also why you don’t .”
Oh, now’s she’s done it. And I don’t even care that the dog is tearing this place up! I hope he leaves steaming piles of crap every five feet in this place! I hope it ruins the carpets! I hope all of these women step in it with their red-soled shoes!
“Actually, I don’t because I’m working my way through college and would rather spend my time helping mistreated animals than here, around people like you who have poles shoved so far up their asses that their heads come to a point!” I try to keep myself as composed as possible, but I can feel steam pouring out of my ears as my heart thumps harder and harder. I take a step closer toward her, my hand raised like I’m about to bitch slap her, a grimace twisting my mouth like I’ve just taken a bite of a lemon. The woman has about five inches on me, but I don’t back down. In fact, she does.
I guess she doesn’t want to incite me any further since I may just take a shot at her face and disrupt the hard work of her cosmetic fillers.
And they’re definitely working overtime on her mug.
She jumps back with a loud shriek, holding up her own hands to guard her face. “Ahh! Stay away from me or I’ll call the police!”
I smirk at her. “Wow, that’s all it takes to crack the facade and throw you into a panic? I guess you’re not much into spanking, huh?”
“Do we have a problem here?” A deep male voice vibrates along the back of my neck, rippling through me, and I swing around so suddenly, my ponytail slaps against my cheek. I smooth the front of my t-shirt down without thinking as my eyes tangle with the curious ones of the man staring down at me.
Good Lord.
Suddenly, I do have a problem. A very big one. About six-foot-three, maybe?
My mouth drops as I drink in his tall, dark, and devilish vibe. It instantly intoxicates me in a way I’ve only experienced one time before.
One time, three weeks ago, to be exact.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Zeno.” The look of disdain on the woman’s face morphs into something decidedly more friendly. Very friendly, as a matter of fact. So friendly that she puffs out her chest and forces her boobs forward so they practically pop out of her low-cut blouse. I roll my eyes, the shock of seeing Zeno again not enough to mask my disgust. Could she be any more transparent? “This person ,” Bitchy Botox Face says, saying the word like I’m no better than the dog shit piled on the Italian marble floor. “Just tried to assault me.”
I flip around, my eyes wide. “And what was my weapon, exactly? Scathing rhetoric?” I start to shake, exaggerating her bullshit panicked expression and body language as I speak in a taunting, high-pitched voice. “Oh my goodness, Zeno! Save me from the Animal Rescue girl before she opens her mouth again and lets that flaming tongue of hers flap! My virgin ears can’t bear to hear the truth about how snobby and arrogant I am!” I smile sweetly, my voice returning to normal. “Looks like the dog might not be the only bitch here, huh?”
Her eyes nearly bug out, but her forehead remains tight and her eyebrows never move. Snobby, arrogant, and completely numb in the face. “You need to get that disgusting mutt out of here or I will call the authorities,” she hisses. “And do it fast. Our reputation is tarnishing with each passing second that you stand here in that ridiculous and offensive shirt,” she huffs, smoothing back her long hair and flashing a grateful smile at the man behind me.
Anger for this bitchy woman is the only thing distracting me from my Zeno disdain. I grit my teeth. I am so going to find her car outside and smear dog shit all over it!
“Rayleigh, I’ll take care of this.” Zeno’s deep, accented voice ripples through me once again, making the skin on the back of my neck prickle. I’m afraid to turn around because if I look into his eyes, I might just melt like a bar of chocolate in the hot sun.
Or burst into flames.
I’m not really sure which, and neither option really works for me.
So I look at Resting Bitch Face again and flash a tight smile. “Well, in this case, my shirt speaks volumes. And if that’s offensive to you,” I say with a shrug. “Good! Because you do suck!”
I hear Zeno swallow a laugh and heat rises in my cheeks. Ugh. Why couldn’t I come up with a better comeback than that? I’ve never been great thinking on my feet during these types of confrontations, but in my defense, they’re pretty few and far between. I don’t have the same fiery temper as my brother and father, so I avoid a lot of altercations by just turning the other cheek.
But screw that!
She deserved it! They’re also probably the harshest words I’ve ever spoken to another person. Well, I’m being extremely generous when I call her a person. Rayleigh is more like a She-Devil. I bet she sleeps upside down, right next to her pitchfork, smack in the middle of a raging inferno.
The urge to punch her takes hold when she flashes that condescending smirk at me, and the twitching sensation in my fist shocks me a little bit, if I’m being honest. I’ve never hit anyone in my life. I don’t really even get road rage. It takes a lot to get me charged up, but this woman definitely breached my threshold for patience.
I take in a deep breath, deciding to take the high road and not continue this pissing match in present company. I twist back around to see the look of amusement on Zeno’s tan, chiseled face. His deep-set blue eyes tussle with mine, and my breath hitches as his curious gaze breaks away and slowly and seductively sweeps over the length of my body. Tingles flare up in the wake of his optical assault on me.
Oh my God. I feel blissfully violated in the best possible way right now, despite his dismissal a few weeks ago. The sting of that isn’t nearly as biting as his gaze rakes over my jean-clad legs.
Rayleigh calls out to Zeno, I guess in some unsuccessful attempt to grab back his attention. “I hope I’ll see you later at the club,” she coos in a sultry voice that makes my spine stiffen and my fingers twitch. God, I want to claw her eyes out right now.
Zeno sweeps a hand through his luscious dark hair and crooks a smile at her without answering. My heart clenches and I want to sing out in joy when I see a flicker of anger flare up in her narrowed eyes.
Ha! He just blew you off, bitch!
And judging from the flared nostrils and fiery glare shooting from her eyes, Rayleigh knows it, too. She turns without another word and flounces away, her high heels clicking loudly on the marble tile.
I let out a snicker. I can’t help it. She is such an insufferable bitch, and Zeno clearly has better taste.
Taste. Mm. I’d love to taste him…we never got to that part the other night.
A chill ripples through me.
And that’s because he left when you offered him more, Lil!
“Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?” he says in that deep, sexy voice.
“I think it’s hysterical, actually,” I say. “She obviously has a thing for you and you just kicked her to the curb.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Kind of the way you did to me back at the Montepremi a few weeks ago. Kazimir, Vice nightclub,” I tilt my head to the side. “My celebration ?”
His eyes widen and he takes a step backward as recognition settles into his features.
“Yeah,” I say, fixing him with a glare, the harshest one I can muster. “Lily, remember?”
He moves closer and I drink in the spicy scent of his cologne. It infuses my senses and fuzzes up my brain just enough where I can’t remember why I’m here in the first place anymore.
“Sorry, I didn’t rec…I mean, you look really different in that…shirt,” he says.
A sarcastic snicker slips from my lips. “Would it matter? You had a shot with me in a completely different outfit and you turned it down.”
He looks away. “Wasn’t my choice,” he mutters.
“Oh, so you have to run your decisions past some higher power, huh?” I roll my eyes. “Whatever. It’s not a big deal. It was a fun night. No explanations, no strings. Don’t panic like I’m about to become a stage-five clinger. I’m here to do a job. So let’s just get to it and I’ll be on my way.”
I say it, but even as the words hit the air, I know I’m full of shit.
I bite down on my lower lip, despite the flame of his rejection igniting deep in my gut. I should not be wasting a shred of energy on a guy like him. I have plans and they don’t include someone who refers to himself as a…what words did he use…oh, right.
A fucking thug.
Yeah, I don’t need one of those in my life. He’s exactly who I want to escape.
And I am making a concerted effort to ignore the fact that his presence still makes my knees wobble and my heart gallop.
Zeno’s full, dark pink lips twist as a strand of hair falls over his left eye, and in a flash, a swarm of butterflies jolts awake and swarm around in my belly. Jesus, who even knew they were still taking up residence in there? My fingers ache to slick that piece of hair back in place, to feel the glossy locks between my fingers, and I have to stuff my hands into the pockets of my jeans to keep them in check.
This isn’t about you or your wounded pride, Lil. It’s about the dog, remember? Zeno is a dick! Move on!
I clear my throat and say in a tight voice. “So, the dog?”
Zeno’s eyebrows furrow and a torn expression flashes across his face. “Yeah, I got a call that it’s been hanging around La Gioia, our signature restaurant. Dog’s got excellent taste. It’s the best restaurant on the strip.” He smirks. “But he’s probably outta luck because not even God Himself could get a reservation there.”
A chuckle slips from my lips and I follow him into the casino, moving quickly in my sneakers to keep up with his long strides. Out of the corner of my eye, I see women on both sides of the casino floor stop to stare as he walks past them. A couple of them might want to wipe the drool from their lips. I can tell they’re doing the same thing I am right now, stripping him down with their lust-filled eyes to find out if he’s just as delicious underneath the expensive suit.
And I’d bet my left and right boobs that the wrapping isn’t nearly as delectable as the gift inside.
I never got to find that out myself.
Ugh! And I hate that I still want to know!
He stares straight ahead, though, never looking back at any of the women, even though their eyes are probably boring holes into his perfectly sculpted chest.
Or, at least, I imagine that it’s perfectly sculpted.
Just like the rest of him.
I mean, how could it not be when the rest of him looks like Eros personified?
The god of sex.
Oh, yes .
Forget my boobs. I’d stake my life on that.
Gah! I am hopeless!
He stops short to shake someone’s hand and I crash hard into his back because I’m too busy daydreaming about unbuttoning his starched white shirt with my teeth. I let out a little yelp and collapse against a woman who is walking past slowly enough to cushion my fall. Probably drinking in the tall, dark, and devilishly handsome glass of water, just like all of the others. She squeals, teetering in her sky-high heels. We both tumble into a blackjack table, scattering some old man’s chips across the table.
“Oof!” I grunt, slamming my hip into the chair next to the old man, clutching the wood rung for leverage.
He turns to me with a dark glare. “Look what you’ve done!” he says in an angry, crotchety voice. “This was a hot table and because of you, it’s iced over!”
“ What ?” I screech. “I almost broke my ankle, thank you very much. And instead of doing the decent thing and asking if I’m okay, you blame your crappy hand on me ?” I straighten up, smoothing back the strands of hair that have fallen out of my ponytail. I point at him. “You know, some people really do suck!” I look at the woman I accidentally knocked over. “I’m sorry. I hope you’re not hurt.” Then I turn back to the old fart gaping at me. “See? That’s not so terrible, is it? Acting like a human being? You should try it sometime!” I snap before storming away from the table.
What is it with this place?
Or maybe my t-shirt is more accurate than I originally thought.
I grit my teeth, the number of people I’d like to sling dog shit at growing in leaps and bounds.
“You’re really making a lot of fans here tonight.” Zeno’s syrupy-smooth voice instantly glosses over the fact that I’ve now been tempted to bitch-slap two people in a span of about five minutes. “Should we abort the mission or keep going? I’ve gotta say I’m curious to see what happens next.”
My lips stretch into a tight line. “I came here for a rescue,” I mutter.
“Seems like maybe someone needs to rescue you .” His eyes darken under thick lashes, his words dripping with much more innuendo than I’m used to. A chill slithers down my back under his heated stare.
Sweet Jesus . Don’t let him play you!
After that whole blow-off scene at the Montepremi, I’d, of course, asked Kat for details about Zeno and his air of mystery. But the only thing she ever really said was that he was a womanizing asshole who wasn’t worth my time, breath, or fantasies.
He’s the type of guy your family is trying to keep you away from, Lil. Be happy he’s gone.
I hear her words loop through my mind, clear as day, but for the first time, I’m tired of being shielded and protected from people my family disapproves of.
For once, I’d like to make my own judgments, dammit!
I open my mouth, hoping words miraculously form a coherent sentence, but my brain lets me down. The lust fog is just too thick for me to formulate an intelligible response.
I twist the end of my ponytail around my fingers, still trying to force out some words. Any words. And finally, “D-dog,” I rasp. “Let’s just find the dog.”
His smile deepens and a dimple dents his right cheek.
Oh, holy hell.
A single dimple.
So much sexier than two. Two is too cutesy. But one?
Half-devil, half-angel.
The perfect combination.
We walk the rest of the way in silence. My level-headedness has never led me down the insta-lust path before, so I’m really not sure why, all of a sudden, it’s sending me there in a handbasket right now.
And I have no escape.
A sleek and discreet sign indicates that we’ve arrived at the restaurant. And if that wasn’t enough of a clue, then the stray pit bull sitting on the floor in front of a bowl of water and one of shredded steak screams that we’re in the right place.
Zeno struts over to the tall, dark-haired guy in the chef’s toque who was just kneeling next to the dog and gives him a man hug. I try not to listen to them talk as I creep over to the dog and sink down next to…
I peek around the underside to confirm.
Him.
He’s scarfing up the meat like he hasn’t eaten in days. Poor baby. His tired eyes look up at me for a slight second before returning to his meal and my heart clenches. I want to pet him, but I wait, knowing that his instinct right now is to gnaw at anything that comes close to his mouth. So I talk to him instead.
“You know, my grandpa had a dog who looked a lot like you,” I murmur in a soft voice as he slurps the water. “He had big brown eyes and dark brown hair, too. And he was sweet. I bet you’re as sweet as he was.” I don’t actually remember Grandpa’s dog because after he passed away from a heart attack one Christmas night, my dad had to find the dog a new home. My mother was never really a fan of animals, much less a pit bull, and we never saw him again after that.
The dog stops eating and looks at me again, letting out a tiny, exhausted whimper. I smile at him. “I’m going to call you Vito. That was my grandpa’s name. He was a very strong and respected man when he was alive, but he had the biggest heart. I can tell you’re the same kind of guy,” I whisper as he lifts his head, almost like he’s asking for me to pet him. I slowly reach under his chin and ruffle the soft hair. The rest of his coat is dull, and he definitely needs a bath. His eyes float closed for a split second and a little breeze flutters over my skin.
It could be the air conditioning.
Or it could be Grandpa.
I’m going with the latter.
“So, you’re like the Dog Whisperer or something?” The tall guy standing next to Zeno smirks down at me and I let out a nervous chuckle before straightening up.
“I just love animals. I’m studying to be a veterinarian, and in my spare time, I work at the animal rescue.”
The guy nods then backs away. “Hang on for a second, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, shooting a look at Zeno who shrugs.
“Does that guy work here in the restaurant?” I ask.
“You could say that.”
“Why’s that funny?” I ask.
“Because it’s his place. That’s Tommy Marcone.”
My jaw drops. “The celebrity chef from Sicily?”
“The one and only.”
Tommy walks back over to us with two plastic bags full of to-go containers. “Here you go. Make sure the animals at the rescue get a few good meals out of this, okay?”
A smile stretches across my face as I reach for the bags, but Zeno stops me and takes them instead.
“I’ve got these. You’ve got your hands full with Vito,” he says with a wink, and my insides light up like Roman candles.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Marcone,” I say with a nervous giggle. “I’m a big fan.”
“My pleasure,” he says with an adorable grin as he walks back into the restaurant. “Take care of my pal, Vito.”
“Will do,” I say just as Vito licks the bowl clean and tilts his head up toward us as if he’s asking for seconds.
“Later, buddy. I promise,” I whisper, rubbing the underside of his chin before I collar him and hook the leash into it. “You’ll get a good meal and a warm bed. You’re going to be safe, warm, and happy.”
I stand up again, looping the leash around my wrist. I catch Zeno’s eye as I flip my ponytail over my shoulder.
“You’re really great with him,” he says.
“It’s easy to make animals happy,” I reply with a shrug. “If you’re nice to them and you feed them and play with them, they’ll love you forever.”
“Unlike people, who suck.” He winks at me.
I nod. “Exactly!”
We walk back through the casino with Vito and the scrumptious-smelling food. Vito is hot on Zeno’s heels, trying hard to get close to the bags, and it’s making my path very dangerous since the leash keeps tangling around my ankles.
“Try not to take another spill, okay?” he says. “Because at this point, I really don’t know who’d be more threatening, you or the pit bull.”
“Oh, me for sure,” I say as we head toward the exit, and in my periphery, I see Rayleigh grimace at me as we pass.
Hm. I didn’t think her mouth could do that kind of thing.
I flash her a fake, toothy grin and give her a cheerful wave as we push through the revolving glass doors.
But once we step onto the cobblestone driveway, I realize that my time with Zeno is almost done, and a somber feeling settles over me, like some kind of dark, depressing cloud.
Maybe it’s because for the first time in a really long time, I felt something real with him. Something that made me feel alive and excited, something sparkly and glittery deep inside.
And once I get into the van, it will fizzle out.
Because this kind of thing doesn’t actually materialize in real life.
Well, at least, not in my life.
And since Zeno clearly didn’t catch the same vibe as I did, it’s really time for me to go and forget him, once and for all.
I help Vito into the van and strap him in before taking the bags from Zeno. I place them on the floor in the front seat and turn to look at him. I have to tilt my head up because he towers over me, and his eyes glimmer like sapphires in the dim lighting of the overhang. “Thanks.”
“Thank you…Lily,” he says, his voice tight.
“You remember?” I ask with shock lacing my words.
“You’re hard to forget. But I have to.” And with that, he backs away and disappears into the hotel, never once looking back.
Oh, hell. What about me? How am I supposed to forget all of that ?