Chapter 4
“Avery, you’ll be in charge of the cabanas with Marissa today.
We are fully booked, so plan for it to be a busy shift.
The entertainment goes on around noon. Be prepared to have the cabanas filling up at open.
” I must have done something right for my manager to assign me the cabanas—the biggest money maker—on such a busy day.
A big-name artist having a set at the most popular day club in Las Vegas was what brought in all the high rollers.
Men and women who had no issue spending thousands of dollars on overpriced liquor and chicken fingers.
But I wasn’t going to be one to complain; I needed the money.
The month was coming to an end and payments were due.
While I waited for the day club to fill, I scanned the cabanas, making each one sparkle, only to be destroyed in a few hours’ time. I fluffed the pillows, laid out menus, stocked the mini fridges, and shined the TV screens, passing the time before guests were allowed in.
The music was bumping, and my energy was high, matching those around me.
Time flew by for the first couple of hours.
Drinks continued to flow for the people who were starting their party early.
And with all the cabanas booked, naturally a couple of them trickled in later than their reservation time.
If they weren’t starting their day early with drinks, it was likely because the night before had them hungover.
“Cabana six is requesting you,” Marissa said as she filled a bucket with ice and a half dozen bottles of water.
Snagging the bucket from her, I made my way over to cabana six to see who exactly could be requesting me. Most people who came in and out of the day club were tourists, so it wasn’t often that someone requested my service by name.
“Hi there, my name’s Avery. I’ll be taking care of you guys today!” I spoke in my most energetic voice.
“Ah, we know who you are! I’m Jayson. We haven’t met yet, but this guy over here told us we weren’t allowed to ask for anyone else around here. That you’re the best.” The man who looked to be in his thirties nodded toward a familiar face resting on one of the loungers.
Standing up and headed my way, Spencer took charge, taking his friend’s place.
“Avery.” His eyes lowered to my cleavage.
“Spencer.” My teeth dug into my lower lip.
“Looks like fate had us meeting again.”
“Some would say fate. Others would say you knew where I worked and made it happen yourself.” My attempt was to be flirty, but I’m afraid my execution came off a tad bitchy.
“I have a feeling when we’re done for the day, you won’t be mad about it.” He wasn’t wrong. It didn’t take a conversation with him to know he was made of money. It was obvious from one glance across the bar.
I assumed he was talking about the tip I’d receive, but then he tore off his shirt, ripping it from his back in one fell swoop. Still standing directly in front of me, a tall, tanned, and tattooed man looked back at me in nothing but a pair of board shorts that hugged his thighs.
The money would be nice, but staring at him all day in this condition, a far cry from the man in a suit the other night, made me dizzy thinking about both versions of him.
The Spencer dressed for work. And the Spencer dressed to play.
“You look good, Bella.” Once again, his eyes roamed over my work uniform that left nothing to the imagination. A small red bikini barely covering my nipples, and a see-through mesh wrapped around my hips. Thankfully, we were allowed to wear sneakers—for safety reasons, of course.
Coming to my senses, I cleared my throat. “Um, thank you. Drinks? Would you guys like some drinks?” I stammered over my words as I shifted my focus to the rest of the group.
“One bottle of Jameson, one bottle of Grey Goose, and all the mixers. One of every appetizer you offer. And I’d like to see you swing by here every fifteen minutes. Hope that’s not too much to ask.”
This man.
This hot as hell man.
I had a sinking feeling he was going to have my feet blistering by the end of my shift.
“One night of drinks and you’re attached already, I see.” I wrote down his order in my notepad, ignoring eye contact at all costs.
“I’ll make it worth your while, promise.” Boldly, he swiped his thumb across my bottom lip where I had unintentionally been tugging at it—a nervous habit.
“I’m going to go get your order in so I can make sure I’m back in time to fulfill your neediness.” Winking at him, I sashayed away.
Who on earth was this man? And why did I feel like he was going to be impossible to say no to? It was the absolute worst time to come across a man as sexy as him who made my stomach do summersaults.
While I waited at the bar for their order, I snagged my phone from the small side pouch I wore and pulled up the text thread with my girls.
Me: You’ll never guess who is at the pool right now.
The night after they left me at the bar with him, I spilled the beans to my best friends. We tell each other everything. I couldn’t help but gush to them about how much hotter he was up close, how he bought all my drinks, and the way the conversation between us flowed so effortlessly.
Andi: Please tell me it’s the hottie from the bar the other night.
Peyton: OMG! The Italian Stallion from Tuesday?!
They answered simultaneously.
Me: You guessed it. If you thought he was hot in head-to-toe Armani, I can’t even describe to you what he looks like half naked.
Peyton: I could faint just thinking about it.
Andi: Is he there alone?
Me: He’s at a cabana with a few other guys. Clients I assume. One of them is Jayson Jennings, the hockey player for the Neon.
Andi: Is he single?
Me: Oh, I don’t know, let me just waltz up to him and ask. *rolls eyes*
Andi: I’m dryer than the Sahara Desert over here, inquiring minds are curious!
Peyton: I wouldn’t mind if you asked either… Are the rest of them just as hot?
Me: If somehow their relationship status casually comes up in conversation, you two will be the first to know. But for now, gotta go!
Me: P.S. So fucking hot babes.
Peyton: Text us later with the update!
Andi: $10 says the hottie from the bar asks you out. Can’t wait to hear all about it!
“Order up, Avery!” the bartender called as I shoved my phone away, shaking my head at my ridiculous friends. We all had a shitty dating life. It was difficult for us, especially in our profession, that usually we stuck to a one-night stand, and our overwhelming sex toy collections.
On my walk back to Spencer and his friends, I checked briefly on the other cabanas, doing my best not to fully neglect them thanks to my newfound distraction.
“Alright, boys, drinks have arrived!” I set down the heavy buckets of ice, mixers, and bottles, before asking, “What can I pour up for you today?” It wasn’t necessary but always helped increase my tip to make the first drink when bottle service was ordered.
“Who wants to start with a shot?” Jayson asked the other guys.
“One shot to start.” Spencer held up one finger, agreeing. “But then it’s slow and steady for me. I have shit to do later that I can’t miss, and you guys are the worst when it comes to day drinking.”
“You owe me at least two shots since you take ten percent, fucker,” Jayson shot back.
“We’ll start with one shot.” Spencer ignored his friend.
“Whiskey?” I smiled sweetly, lifting the bottle of Jameson and some plastic cups.
“Hell yeah! But fuck the cups, waterfall the shots into our mouths if you don’t mind.” Jayson shot a sly look over to Spencer, then back at me, while waiting to see if I’d follow through on his request.
“Open up,” I said, starting with the guy all the way to the left, working my way down to Spencer at the end.
Each one took their shot like a champ, no chaser needed.
When I got to Spencer, my wrist suddenly felt weak, the bottle threatening to slip from my grip.
Even as the liquor emptied from the bottle, the weight of it felt heavy in my hand.
His dark eyes beamed into mine as I flipped the bottle upside down and began pouring the amber liquid down his throat.
Time got away from me as my four-count slipped into an eight-count, and the liquor continued to spill from the pour spout.
It wasn’t until Spencer closed his mouth and took a deep swallow that I realized I had been gawking, unable to pull my stare away.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” I reached out with my thumb, swiping the spilled whiskey from the corner of his lips.
Fuck, what the hell was I doing?
Flirting with pool guests was completely normal. Touching them, though? It could give off the wrong idea.
My cheeks heated in embarrassment as my head shifted toward his friends, only to realize they had stepped away from the cabana and closer to the pool after they got their shot.
We were alone.
Before I could pull my hand away, Spencer gripped my wrist, guiding my thumb to his mouth. His tongue swiped the remaining whiskey from my skin, and without realizing it, a quiet moan slipped from my lips.
Bold.
Fuck why did I like that so much?
“Don’t be sorry. Like I said the other night, whiskey looks good on you, but it might taste even better.” He spoke with confidence after my thumb popped from his mouth.
“Um. I—”
“I’ll see you in fifteen.” His order not only scrambled my brain enough that I didn’t know what to say, but he had my body swirling with need. It was one hundred degrees outside, but my nipples told a different story.
Spinning on my heel, I couldn’t get out of that cabana fast enough.
Hours had passed and the day club was getting ready to close. Spencer and his friends were still lingering around, most of them wasted—matching everyone else who had been partying since eleven a.m.
Being around Spencer in this environment was a complete one eighty compared to the night we spent together a few days ago.
Maybe it was him being around his friends, or maybe it was the alcohol flowing through him in a different setting.
Either way, he still had the same overwhelming ability to make me lose my train of thought.
“The day club is closing, but y’all are welcome to head over to the other pools on property after you close out with me.
” Trying to keep my professionalism, and bringing this day to an end, I handed over the check to Spencer.
His card was already on file, so all he had to do was sign the dotted line and leave me the big tip that he promised.
“What are you doing tonight after you get off work?” he asked as he signed his name on the receipt.
“I have plans with a couple friends,” I lied.
“And these friends are the ones who were at the bar the other night?” he presumed.
“Mhmm. Yeah,” I answered weakly, knowing I was lying straight through my teeth. I had to work my second job tonight and that wasn’t something he needed to know about.
“I’d like to take you out sometime, Avery.” Finishing up with the tab, he closed the black book.
“I’m … Uh …I just don’t have time for anything right now.” The rejection tasted like acid.
“I’m not asking you to marry me, Bella. Just one night. An official date. Think about it, and text me when you have time.” Grabbing a cocktail napkin from the table, he wrote down his phone number, slipping it into the book that held my tip and handed it to me for safe keeping.
“I’ll think about it.” I nodded with uncertainty.
“I hope you do.” His hand found my hip, squeezing just tight enough that I could feel my knees go weak.
His breath brushed against my ear when he whispered, “I know where you work, so I’m sure I’ll be seeing you anyway.
” His lips grazed my forehead. The moment was so brief, I hardly had enough time to miss it before he and his friends headed out of the disheveled cabana, leaving me with no idea when I’d see him next.
When I was left alone, I opened the black book. His phone number laid on top of a one-thousand-dollar tip.
“What in the actual fuck?” I whisper-yelled, spinning on my heel to catch him, only to realize he was already gone.
Never in my last three years of working at this pool have I had a tip of this caliber. I’d waited on some of the richest people to travel through Vegas, but never have I ever had a tip in the four digits.
Money like this could be life changing. Especially for someone in my position with bills and blackmail to pay off, and a savings account I desperately needed to build up.
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach—the need to text him and thank him for being so generous, but at the same time, the realization that texting him, opening that door, would push me toward something I’m not sure I’d be able to come back from.
All I needed was a little more time. Time to get things paid off and to get my life back on track.
He may know where I spend my days at work, but there was no way in hell he could find out what I did for a living when the sun went down.