12. Keep Your Eyes Open
Ican’t believe I asked him to sleep with me. Again!
I’m so stupid.
Worse still, he knows it.
A stupid little girl who is afraid of the dark and has scary dreams.
Pathetic.
Rolling my eyes at myself, I stood from my favorite spot near the creek and went inside to grab some water. My plan went out the window when the intoxicating scent of coffee filled my nostrils.
Like a cartoon, I practically floated over to the fancy coffee maker that wasn’t usually on the counter. Opening the cabinets, I searched for a mug. A glass.
I’d drink it out of a measuring cup if that was all that was available.
I’ll pour Ash some, too. That’d be helpful.
Except I don’t know how he takes it.
Forcing myself away from the delicious scent, I headed through the house toward Ash’s office. I peeked into the ajar door, unsurprised to find it was decorated much like the rest of his house. Cool and masculine, with a giant desk topped with three computer monitors.
Ash sat behind it, his phone pressed to his ear as he looked at one of the side monitors. Despite his impatient words, his tone was happy when he muttered, “About time.”
Not wanting to interrupt, I backtracked to the kitchen. Finally finding the mugs—on the very top shelf, of course—I hoisted myself onto the counter and carefully stood.
“Camila Price, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
At the barked question, I startled and lost my balance. My life flashed before my eyes as I seemed to hover mid-air.
And what I saw was depressing.
Rather than cracking my head open on the island and dying without even getting any coffee, strong arms wrapped around to catch me.
I didn’t bother to ask how he knew my full name. I was quickly learning there was very little Ash didn’t know or couldn’t find out. Not to mention, there were much more pressing matters.
Like how I was cradled in his arms.
Or the thunderous expression on his face that contrasted that gentle hold.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ash repeated, his angry hazel eyes burning as he scanned me.
“Getting coffee.”
“And you needed to be a daredevil to do that?”
I bristled at his anger and his concern. Even with as often as I saw the second one from him—and it was far too often, in my opinion—I still wasn’t used to it. “It’s not my fault you keep the mugs all the way up there. Not all of us are behemoths.”
Setting my ass on the counter, he opened the drawer under the coffee maker to show stirrers, powdered creamer, sweeteners, and mugs.
Lots of mugs.
I threw my arms up. “Well, how was I supposed to know those were there?”
“You should’ve asked me instead of doing something so dangerous.”
I rolled my eyes. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to scale something. I’ve been this height since I was like twelve.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the eye roll or my words, but one of them made Ash’s jaw clench.
Ah, good to know I still have that effect on him.
His reaction only made me babble more. “I’m a professional at counter climbing. I’d win a gold medal.”
“And almost falling?”
“That was your fault. Competitor interference. Very unsportsmanlike.”
The corner of his lips tipped up and some of the tension left his face. It wasn’t a dimpled smile, but it was better than his jaw disintegrating to dust with as hard as he’d been clenching it. “From now on, come get me. Got it?”
“You were on the phone,” I said.
Still standing close, Ash lowered his face until it was in front of me. Until he was all I could see. “Don’t care if I’m on the phone with the president, the pope, and Elvis from beyond the grave. You can always interrupt.”
I’d never had someone make me feel like a priority. Even if his words were an empty offer to be polite, I’d never even had someone pretend I was a priority.
My stomach swirled like it was made of melty lava, heating me from the inside out. It traveled in my veins, making my heart pound as my nipples tightened painfully.
I’d always considered myself smart. Realistic to the point of cynicism. Even as a kid, I hadn’t believed in Santa, the Tooth Fairy, or any other fairy tales. Those few fleeting moments of wistfulness were never worth the crushing disappointment.
Yet as I looked up at his handsome face so close to mine, all my hard-fought common sense fled, and one thought kept running through my brain.
Kiss me.
Kiss me.
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.
It was stupid. Insane, actually. Unrealistic and fanciful and…
And I wanted it so badly, I ached.
Literally ached.
Ash’s gaze dropped to my mouth, and I barely stopped myself from licking my lips. From verbalizing my need.
Or from just kissing him.
Just as quickly, he moved away like nothing had happened.
Because nothing had outside of my wild imagination. For all I knew, I had dried yogurt on my chin that he was too nice to point out.
I discreetly wiped my face while Ash grabbed a couple of travel cups. “We’ll have to take the coffee to go, though.”
“To go where?”
“Some work came up that I can’t do from home. Figured you were probably getting cabin fever.”
Yes, in this tiny, dilapidated shack.
“I get to work with you?” I asked.
“You get to hang out while I work.”
I had no clue what exactly that entailed. But considering I’d almost thrown myself at a man who was so far outside of my league, we weren’t even playing the same sport, I would take it.
I could use the change of scenery.
And to touch grass.
For whatever reason, I’d assumed we’d be going to Moonlight. There’d been a pit of dread and guilt at the thought of returning to the scene of the crime.
My literal crime.
Instead, Ash pulled his big SUV onto a private road at a different resort.
“Where are we?” I asked as he swiped something to lift the little bar thingy.
“Sunrise.”
I wanted to question that, but something in the distance caught my eye just before Ash pulled into a parking garage. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“Behind the building. It looked like really tall construction beams or something.”
“It’s a drop tower.”
I didn’t respond since I had no clue what that meant other than it sounded not good.
“It’s a ride,” he explained without me having to ask. “It slowly raises riders to the top and then drops them.”
“People want that?”
He smiled as he pulled into a spot. “The tickets sell out most days, so yeah. They want it.”
“I can’t believe people pay for the risk of dying.”
“They pay for the wild ride that leaves their heart racing, reminding them they’re alive,” Ash rumbled before he climbed out and closed the door.
I didn’t follow immediately. His innocuous words created a tingle between my legs as I thought about a different way to make my heart pound.
If kissing him earlier would’ve been a massive mistake…
Scowling at myself, I got out and slammed the door a little harder than necessary.
And then I almost tripped when Ash asked, “Do you want to ride it?”
My brain short-circuited. “What?”
“The drop tower. We can head there now.”
Oh. Right. That makes more sense than the gutter my brain traveled down.
What the hell has gotten into me?
Needing to get myself together, I returned to the question I’d wanted to ask before getting distracted by the tower. “So you work here and Moonlight?”
“And Star and Nebula and wherever else my boss needs me.”
Sunrise, Moonlight, Star, and Nebula…
It’d been a long time since I’d watched any of the Vegas resort specials because I actively avoided them. But I vaguely remembered Veronica watching one about the remodel of Moonlight, Star, and Sunrise after the current owner had inherited them.
My steps slowed. “Wait, do you work for the owner?”
“Yes.” He put his hand to my lower back and nudged me toward the elevator.
“Like directly for him?”
“Yup.”
Despite my initial—and very incorrect—assumption that Ash was just a chauffeur, his house made it clear his job was more than that. The small glimpse I’d gotten of him working made it clear it was much, much more than that. Still, I’d just guessed he worked for one of the bigwigs.
I hadn’t even considered it was the biggest of wigs.
“What do you do?” I asked.
“Whatever needs done.” At my growl of frustration, Ash chuckled. “I don’t have an exact job title because I don’t do one job. I’m Maximo’s right-hand. His assistant, driver, security, delegate, and whatever else, all rolled into one good looking package.”
The housekeepers at The Roulette never talked about other hotel openings or opportunities, good or bad. If someone knew about a worse hellhole, they didn’t give warnings in hopes whoever would leave, and they’d get more hours or better shifts. And if they heard a job was available somewhere good? That was a secret they kept in a vault so they had less competition while they went for it.
Even with that level of selfish subterfuge, it was well known that a job at one of those four resorts was like winning the housekeeper lotto. It was also just as rare. Openings didn’t come up often because they had a shockingly low turnover rate for the service industry. From what I’d heard, they didn’t even accept applications due to the overwhelming amount of interest.
With so many Roulette-esque dumps in Vegas, a luxury resort that paid its employees well and offered great benefits was a dream job.
I hesitated for a second because Ash had already done a lot for me. Too much. But I’d be a fool if I didn’t ask for one more thing. “Can you get me an interview with housekeeping? Or just pass along my résumé?”
Right after I create a résumé.
And figure out how to say that I’ve been cleaning bugs, mold, and bodily fluids since before I was legally able to work.
His brows rose, but I continued before he could tell me what I already knew. “I’m fine to go on a waitlist.”
“We’ll see,” he muttered as we stepped into the elevator, and he pressed his thumb to a button.
I didn’t push it further, even if I really wanted to.
Other than cutting through Moonlight to my bus stop a few times, I’d never been to the other properties. I wasn’t particularly anxious to see all the waste and squandering, but I was still curious to see the design itself. I wanted to know if it was as prettily themed as Moonlight.
I nervously ran my palms down the front of the floral dress that’d been waiting on the bed after my shower. It hit at kind of an odd spot below my knees and was baggy around my torso, but I didn’t care. It was gorgeous and made me feel more confident.
Being there with Ash helped, too.
After a second, it became obvious that we weren’t exiting in the lobby. The elevator didn’t slow to let anyone else on as it kept climbing and climbing.
And climbing.
When the doors finally slid open, it wasn’t into a hallway. It was a penthouse. I stepped out and moved through the space toward the floor-to-ceiling windows as Ash spoke.
“Like the house, nothing is off-limits in here. Bathroom to your left. Another is through the main bedroom. The remotes are on the table. I haven’t stayed here in a while, so there’s no food in the fridge.”
Maybe that means there’s stuff for me to clean. Not that it’ll be much help to him, but it’ll help the hotel housekeepers, and they’ll appreciate it.
“There’s a button on the phone for room service,” he continued. “Order whatever you want. I’ll be back soon.”
I whipped around. “Wait, what?”
The last thing I saw before the elevator doors closed was Ash’s dimpled smirk.
Damn him.
I stormed over to the elevator and stabbed the button.
Nothing.
Not just didn’t it open, it didn’t ding or light up or anything. I tried again.
Nothing.
I looked closer and noticed it wasn’t a normal button. It had a fingerprint scanny thing.
Shit, does that mean I’m stuck in here?
I had no plans to leave the space anyway. It wasn’t like I had the money or interest to explore the resort. But Ash had me trade one cabin fever for another.
It didn’t make sense.
Giving up my escape, I moved through the penthouse. Perfectly pressed suits hung in the massive walk-in closet. A few pairs of basketball shorts and tees were folded in the storage cubes next to them. A pair of shiny shoes sat on a rack next to a pair of sneakers, but that was it. The rest of the space was empty.
And clean.
Not so much as a fleck of dirt on the sneakers.
The whole penthouse was the same. Perfectly clean, if not barren.
And frankly underwhelming.
The suites at The Roulette weren’t luxurious by any stretch of the imagination, but they were still painted a light dusty blue that hid grime and fading. The walls in Ash’s penthouse were all light beige. The Roulette had generic art on the wall that had likely come from a thrift shop or closeout sale. His penthouse had no art other than a large mirror mounted near the entrance.
With all the raving I’d heard about Sunrise, I was shocked to find it so poorly decorated. Especially since I was sure the price for a single night there would give me an aneurysm.
With nothing else to do, I plopped down on the couch. Rather than reaching for the remote, I grabbed the iPad next to it on the coffee table.
Hopefully there’s no password because it’s research time.
I pressed the power button, and it loaded right to the main screen. I opened the internet browser and typed in the name Ash had given me.
Ash Cooper
A message popped up, telling me it was blocked.
What the hell?
I tried to download a different browser from the app store, but that was restricted, too. Everything was.
Even the already downloaded apps gave me the same message or just didn’t load. All except the reading one. That loaded right up to display thousands of books. Everything from highlander romance to true crime to random ancient civilizations.
Bizarre.
As I scrolled through, my fingertip felt something on the back. I flipped it over to see an engraving.
Happy Birthday, little dove.
I had no clue who little dove was, but it was a safe bet it wasn’t Ash.
For reasons I didn’t want to inspect closely, I had the overwhelming urge to throw the iPad across the room. Instead, I settled back and flicked on the TV. I went through the options until I found the show Ash and I had been watching at night. I went to the episode we’d left off on and pressed play.
Watching without him.
The jerk.