Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Cole smiled. “Did Serrano tell you the diplomat is trying to get tickets to the Angelo-Novak match next month? He wants to drop a shit-ton on bets and a suite.”
“I don’t give a shit how much he wants to spend, unless he’s willing to sleep in a room coated in plastic, he’s not welcome.”
“Better tell Serrano that.”
I checked my watch.
I had a shit-ton of preparations and inevitable fires to put out for the event that night. Stopping to deal with Janson had set me behind, so I needed to get caught up quickly if I wanted to have time for dinner with Juliet.
I didn’t have time to argue with Serrano.
But I also didn’t have the stomach to face a destroyed, golden showered room again.
Rubbing my palm down my face, I sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Good luck. You know how he is with money.”
Yeah, he liked it and wasn’t big on turning away people willing to part with theirs. He’d set up a fight between chipmunks if he could get people to bet on it.
Pressing my thumb to the elevator’s panel, the doors slid open and I went inside. It quickly traveled up before opening on the ground floor.
I took off toward the arena to see what fresh hell awaited.
And to argue with Serrano about a piss-happy diplomat.
Juliet
Holy shit.
I’d known Maximo’s casinos were beautiful. I’d also known they’d be better than my expectations because that was how it went with anything to do with Maximo.
But I had no idea Moonlight would be so absolutely breathtaking—and I’d only seen the outside.
Located not far off the Strip, the curvature and points of the main building resembled the phases of the moon. There was another taller building behind it, which I assumed was the hotel.
I had my nose practically pressed against the window as we drove closer.
“He’s gonna be pissed,” Ash murmured.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Fighting the urge to nervously fidget, I placed my hands in my lap before immediately moving my right one off so my tennis bracelet didn’t snag the lace overlay of my magenta minidress.
Is this what the other half worries about?
Ruining their beautiful clothes with their equally beautiful jewelry?
Ash bypassed the main entrance and pulled up to a small road I hadn’t noticed through the greenery. Rolling down his window to punch a number into the keypad, the barrier gate opened and he drove up the path that edged a pond.
In the center, there was a fountain topped with a beautiful sculpture of a woman in a flowing dress. Even though it was solid, the way the dress was sculpted made it look as though it were moving in the breeze. She held a bow with the arrow drawn, a mix of femininity and badassery.
“Who is that statue of?” I asked.
“Artemis. She’s the Greek goddess of the hunt and the moon.”
Continuing up the road, we drove under the overpass where a line of cars, limos, and idling taxis were backed up. Ash pulled into a tucked-away spot near security vehicles before killing the engine and getting out.
I opened the door and climbed out. “Do I need my bag?”
“I’ll bring your bag up to the room.”
I didn’t argue because I likely would’ve toppled trying to lug that sucker around—Vera’s idea of a weekend bag differed greatly from mine.
As we walked, he pulled his phone out and typed something. “Boss is near the shops.”
“Since I have zero clue where that is, lead the way.”
The electric doors slid open, and I stepped forward and gawked worse than a tourist seeing a line of showgirls for the first time.
Holy shit.
The outside was stunning, but it was nothing compared to the inside. The rounded glass atrium roof was covered in hundreds of thousands of twinkle lights that resembled the night sky. There was an attached twisting wrought iron arch spanning across with an illuminated half-moon.
Ash pointed to it, moving his hand with the curve. “Every hour it moves a spot to the next phase.”
“It’s so pretty.”
Crowds of people posed in front of the massive lattice wall in the center of the room. More twisted iron spelled out Moonlight in a whimsical font, the name surrounded by vibrant green vines and beautiful white flowers that entwined through the lattice.
“Moonflowers,” Ash supplied.
They found a theme and stuck with it, that’s for sure.
Everything fit, down to the tiniest detail. Even the tile under my feet were a soft blackish blue with the occasional silver old-timey moon design stamped on one.
I glanced around at all the security guards, employees, and prominent signs making it clear no one under twenty-one would be permitted on the gaming floor.
“Uh.” I stopped Ash and whispered, “Am I going to be allowed in?”
“You’re Maximo’s.”
My heart squeezed at the sound of that.
He started walking, and I worked to keep the guilty expression off my face as I moved with confidence.
Or tried to.
My worry was for nothing, though, because no one glanced my way. A few people raised their chins at Ash, but otherwise we were given a wide berth.
Well, in an official capacity, at least.
Ash wasn’t ignored by the women we passed, most of whom shifted to walk closer to him.
Surprisingly, he only gave them the same cursory glance he gave everyone else.
Keeping to the perimeter, we rounded a room packed with slot machines of every theme and style. Lights flashed, music and sounds rang out, people cheered or groaned.
It was sensory overstimulation times twenty.
We turned into a different area and went straight down the middle, passing table games of different types and limits. I averted my eyes from the blackjack and poker tables, my stomach clenching at memories I wished I could burn from my brain.
It seemed like we’d walked the entirety of the sprawling casino when we finally exited into a separate corridor. We turned and continued on, passing store after store. I glanced up at the second level that overlooked us, but I couldn’t see what any of those were.
When we reached the end of the hall, it opened into a smaller atrium that resembled the main one. In the center, another statue of Artemis—I was assuming that’s who it was—stood proudly above a waterfall fountain. It was beautiful.
But not as beautiful as the man who stood next to it with his hands in his pockets and his brooding eyes on me.
Belatedly realizing he wasn’t alone, I glanced at the small cluster of people. Positioned behind him, Marco looked bored, as usual. Cole tapped away at an iPad before passing it to another man.
My gaze skimmed over the man talking to Maximo, and though he looked familiar, I couldn’t place him. He continued talking even though he didn’t have Maximo’s full attention.
I slowed my steps, not wanting to interrupt.
It was the wrong move because Maximo shook his head and crooked a finger at me.
Oops.
Picking up the pace, my heels clicked on the tile as I hurried.
As soon as I got within reach, he hauled me to him and kissed me.
Right there.
At his work.
With people around.
As one of those people talked.
And it was not a quick peck. Or even a more affectionate yet still closed mouth one.
It was a kiss , with dancing tongues and nipping teeth. The kind that curled my toes and stole my breath.
Pulling away just enough so he could meet my eyes, Maximo said, “You look gorgeous, dove.”
“Thank you for the pretty dress, D—Maximo,” I hurried to correct.
At the name, his demeanor changed. His jaw clenched and his sharp eyes grew cold. His tone held that same coldness, stern and in full-on Daddy mode. “Who am I, Juliet?”
My gaze darted to the side—not that I could see anything but him.
Gripping my chin, he forced my eyes back to him. “I asked you a question, you know I expect an answer.”
In contrast with his even one, my voice was barely more than a whispered squeak. “I didn’t think you’d want me to call you that when there are other people around.”
“I don’t give a fuck who’s around. Who am I, Juliet?”
“Daddy,” I forced out.
“We’ll talk about this later.”
Oh shit.
I’m pretty sure talk is code for spank .
Keeping a possessive arm around me, Maximo turned me to face the others. He gestured to the man who looked like Derek Morgan from C riminal Minds . “That’s Miles, head of security.”
“I have your number,” I said before throwing my whole self directly into the garbage—in my mind, at least. In real life, I stammered an explanation. “In my phone. In case of an emergency.”
I could feel Maximo’s silent chuckle.
Good, he’s amused, not horrified.
Miles’ lips were tipped.
Good, he’s also amused, not planning a restraining order.
He offered me his hand. “I have your number, too. Nice to put a face to it, Juliet.”
Maximo continued the introductions, pointing to the man I vaguely recognized. “This is Serrano. You don’t have his number.”
I’m never living this down.
Serrano unexpectedly pulled me into a hug that lasted all of two-point-five seconds before Maximo tugged me back against him, wrapping his arm around my chest. Serrano wasn’t put-off as he grinned. “I understand you’re the one to thank for my pay raise and bonus.”
The pieces clicked together, and I realized were I recognized him from. He’d been the emcee at the warehouse, and I’d made a throwaway comment about how he deserved more money for amping up the crowd.
I had no idea Maximo would actually do it.
“You did a good job drumming up last-minute bets,” I said.
Waving away my praise, Serrano shook his head. “Those rich assholes are all too happy to throw their money away.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “But if you want to tell Maximo I deserve an extra week of vacation and a company car, that’d work.”
“You have a company car,” Maximo pointed out.
“It’s almost two years old. Practically a Flintstones car.” He shot me a wink before going serious as he gave Maximo his attention. “Anything else you can think of?”
“No, we should be set. Call if there’s any issues.”
“There’s always issues.”
“Call for the big ones.” Maximo turned toward Ash. “All good?”
Ash lifted his chin. “Quiet day. You get my message?”