CHAPTER 1 #2
We’d had our own apartment. It was small, but it was ours. He used to kiss me in the kitchen like we’d already made it, as though signing that lease had been the first real proof that we were different from where we came from. He told me it was just the beginning.
It had seemed like the truth when he’d come home one night grinning like a kid and said he’d gotten a job offer, one with good money and benefits. The company even paid for night classes so he could finally go to school like he’d planned.
Vegas sparkled at first. Even the rough parts felt temporary when we were new enough not to see the cracks.
Ryan worked during the day and went to class at night, coming home exhausted but proud of himself.
We ate cheap takeout on the floor and laughed about how one day we’d have real furniture, like that was just another milestone waiting for us.
But that was all before he’d become friends with some guys at work.
It started small with a few hands of cards after work and a drink here and there. He said it helped him unwind, that he’d earned it after working all day. I didn’t push back. I wanted to be the easy part of his life, not something else he had to fight.
Before long he was skipping classes, though. It was just one night at first . . . and then it was another. Ryan had said he’d catch up, and that school wasn’t going anywhere. But the cards turned into longer nights and the losses got bigger. The excuses came even faster.
Then he lost his job.
Ryan had come home talking too fast about how it was temporary and something better was going to come along. This was just a setback. I nodded and told him it was okay, that we’d figure it out together somehow.
But we never did.
I was the one who worked extra shifts at two different jobs. I was the one who smiled until my face hurt and pretended my feet didn’t ache. I was the one who cried and stressed about bills while Ryan stayed up late, chasing the big one he was sure would fix everything if he could just land it.
The bus rattled along, sunlight flashing through the windows, and I stared out at a city that seemed to glitter for everyone else. I adjusted my bag on my lap and straightened my shoulders, and that terrible thought slipped in before I could stop it.
Maybe I had turned out just like my mother . . .
By the time my shift started, I’d locked all my emotions down.
My smile was in place, my shoulders were back, and my tray was balanced just right.
I moved through the casino the way you learn to move through any place that always wants something from you.
Aware without looking nervous. Friendly without offering more than necessary.
The floor vibrated beneath my feet, and lights flashed overhead as machines chimed in uneven bursts among the voices rising and falling in a constant artificial swell that never let you forget exactly where you were.
I was touched constantly. Fingers brushed down my wrist when I set down a drink. A hand lingered too close to my hip as I leaned away. Comments were murmured like they were doing me a favor just by noticing me.
I ignored it all.
I smiled. I kept moving.
I survived.
The bar was my next stop, and I wove between tables and bodies to get there, the air saturated with alcohol, money, and desperation. Theo glanced up as I approached, already grinning like this was his favorite part of the night.
Theo was handsome in a very specific way.
He had dark hair he kept a little too long because he thought it looked better on camera, and he had a restless edge that suggested auditions and rejection emails and side hustles he swore were temporary.
He bartended at night and chased acting roles during the day, always convinced his break was one good casting call away.
And who knew, maybe it was. We couldn’t all be as unlucky as me.
“Tell me you’re finally going to put me out of my misery,” he said as he slid the glasses I needed toward me.
“Never,” I replied, lifting the tray.
He leaned in, his elbows braced on the bar, and lowered his voice as though we were sharing something secret. “One of these nights, you’re going to say yes and finally let me take you out for a drink instead of carrying them. It’s my dream in life.”
I didn’t miss a beat. “My answer’s not going to change, Theo. You should get a better dream.”
He sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “I keep hoping you’ll change your mind.”
“Hope is dangerous,” I said lightly. “Someone should have told you that at some point.”
He laughed because he thought I was joking and shook his head. “You’re going to be the death of me, Eden.”
I smiled politely and turned, not looking back even though I knew he was watching me walk away.
No matter how things felt lately, no matter how disappointed or worn thin I was, there were lines I didn’t cross. I wasn’t going to become someone I didn’t recognize just because my life hadn’t ended up like I wanted it to.
“Eden!”
I barely had time to pivot before Leigh practically collided with me, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, her ponytail swinging like she was powered by pure caffeine and chaos.
Leigh was friendly with everyone, incapable of whispering, and always five seconds away from spilling gossip she somehow collected on a daily basis, even though I was pretty sure most of our coworkers knew not to tell her anything.
“Oh my gosh,” she stage-whispered, gripping my arm. “You are not going to believe this.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Believe what?”
She bounced on her toes. “The hottest man alive just sat down in the high roller room.”
I snorted. “That’s a bold claim.”
“I’m serious,” she insisted. “He’s tall and blond . . . and expensive—looking,” she said with a wink. “All my favorite flavors in one.”
“And very unhealthy-sounding,” I said dryly.
She waved me off. “Everyone’s freaking out.
Dealers. Security. Even Mark at the pit stopped pretending he doesn’t care about anything.
He must be someone important.” She leaned in close like this was all classified information.
“I’m telling you,” she whispered, “if I don’t end up in the high roller room tonight, I might die.
I just need one excuse. One drink run. One accidental bump. Men like that love a good meet-cute.”
I snorted. “I’m pretty sure men like that actually love not being bothered.”
She waved me off. “That’s quitter talk. I just have to get in the room. Once I’m in the room, it’s game over.”
“That’s not how rooms work,” I said.
“That is exactly how high roller rooms work,” she insisted. “You don’t understand. This man looks as if he could buy the building and forget he did it. I am not passing that up.”
She was mid-rant, already plotting her angles, when someone stopped beside us.
“Eden.” Carl’s voice cut cleanly through Leigh’s enthusiasm. She startled and pushed out her breasts as though a switch had been flipped when he appeared. I was pretty sure they were sleeping together, but Leigh tended to be like that with every man . . . so I wasn’t quite sure.
“Yes?” I asked.
Carl, the casino manager, didn’t even give Leigh a glance. His attention was fixed on me, sharp and businesslike, and I immediately straightened, thinking whatever he had to say had to be important. “I need you in the high roller room.”
Leigh froze.
I blinked. “Me?”
“Yes,” he said. “You’re steady. You know how to behave with our biggest VIPs. This guest expects professionalism and discretion.”
Leigh’s head snapped toward me so fast I was surprised she didn’t get whiplash. Her wide eyes locked on to mine immediately, and her brows lifted just slightly as if she could force the word no into my mouth without saying it out loud.
“I already have a section,” I said lamely as Leigh continued to try to stare holes in my head.
“I’ll have it covered,” Carl replied smoothly. “I need you at your best for this. Be polite. Agreeable. Make sure he has everything he wants . . . before he wants it.”
“Of course,” I said, ignoring Leigh this time.
Even if I wasn’t sure exactly what Carl meant by that last part.
As much as I liked my coworker, the tips were much better in the high roller room, and with how things were going in my life, I couldn’t afford to say no.
I also couldn’t afford for Carl to fire me because I’d said no. So there was also that.
He nodded once, satisfied, and walked away without another word.
The second he was gone, Leigh stared at me in open betrayal. “You’re kidding me,” she hissed. “You’re going in there?”
“I didn’t ask to,” I said, shifting the tray on my shoulder.
“But I was going to get in there,” she protested. “I was this close.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You were standing by the bar, talking to me.”
“Exactly,” she said. “That was step one.”
I sighed, already exhausted as I glanced toward the velvet rope that marked the high roller room. Curiosity tugged at me for half a second before the old, heavy weight of responsibility settled right back in my chest like it had never left.
I hadn’t eaten. I’d barely slept. I was running on caffeine and obligation and the quiet determination not to let today break me. “I’m just serving drinks,” I said. “It’s not going to be nearly as exciting as you think.”
Leigh groaned as if she hadn’t heard me. “If he proposes, I will never forgive you.”
On that note, it was time to get back to work. “Good thing I’m already married and can save all the proposals for you,” I told her over my shoulder as I headed toward the back of the casino, already slipping into the version of myself that smiled just enough and gave nothing away.
Whoever this man was, he was just another customer.
And I was very, very tired.