Chapter 14
Bex
T he casino floor is buzzing with the excitement that typically accompanies game days on the Strip. I don’t follow a lot of sports—okay, correction: I don’t follow any sports. But being in hospitality means we have some awareness regarding local events, especially since the stadium is located right next to us.
Crimson and black Vegas Viper jerseys are everywhere I turn, and the thought occurs to me it might be nice to get myself one. The staff is allowed to wear the team jerseys on game days as part of their uniform, which is a nice change of pace.
I hustle up to the service counter, where Carlos is shaking up martinis and Marla is sharing a story about an over-served guest .
“So, I told him, ‘No. You cannot have another, you’ve had too much,’” Marla says, picking at one of her acrylic nails. “And he goes, ‘But, ma’am, the drinks are free.’ As if that has anything to do with it!”
Carlos and I both laugh.Honestly, it’s not that funny because it happens so often, but somehow, sharing these stories makes it feel kind of like trauma-bonding.
“Did you call security?” I ask.
Marla shakes her head. “Nah, didn’t have to. This asshole fell off his chair right after, and his buddies dragged him out. Not a single tip from any of them, either.”
“Fuckers,” Carlos mumbles, shaking his head as he pours a line of espresso martinis. “It’s too early for that shit.”
He’s not wrong, given that it’s only 5 p.m. on a Friday, but weekends in Vegas start earlier and get rowdier than weekends anywhere else. If you start drinking in the morning, 5 p.m. is probably bedtime for some folks.
“Can I get two Miller Lites, a Hendrick’s G&T, and a long island, please?” I ask after Carlos finishes the martinis. He nods as he reaches for the gin bottle.
Marla is carefully arranging her tray of martinis when she says, “Well, fuck me sideways, look who it is.”
I whip my head around to see who Marla is talking about, and my jaw drops open at the sight of Corey. He walks up to us, wearing a red Vipers jersey and jeans, and holy shit, I forgot how tall he is. My body immediately reacts to his presence, nipples tightening and my core fluttering. He’s smiling, and even though we’ve had several video calls since that first epic one, it’s almost like his face is new to me: the sharp cut of his jaw, the stubble on his face, the depth of his dark eyes, and the way his hair flops down onto his face .
When he comes to a stop next to me, I realize I’ve just been standing here with my mouth open. “What are you doing here?” The first words out of my mouth cause his smile to falter.
“Are you just finishing your shift?” he asks, giving Marla and Carlos a smile and acknowledging nod.
I tilt my head up at him, my hands on my hips. “What? No, I work until 11 tonight. Now answer my question, please.”
It’s not that I’m not happy or excited to see him. Based on the wetness pooling in my panties right now, I’d say parts of me are beyond thrilled to see him. But I feel caught off guard—he didn’t mention a trip to Vegas, did he? Even his texts this morning didn’t allude to this.
“Shit,” he says, running a hand through his hair. He seems nervous, but I can’t imagine why.
I step closer to him, lowering my voice so only he can hear me. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.” I put a hand on his arm, which was a bad idea because he feels so warm and firm, and it’s now taking all of my composure to not jump into his arms right now. “I’m really happy to see you.”
He forces a smile and says, “I should apologize. Shit was moving so fast yesterday, I meant to text you, but I got on a call and… I forgot.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay, really. I’m glad you’re here.” I want to hug him so badly, but as I’m working on the casino floor, it feels wrong. “How long are you in town?”
“Just tonight and tomorrow,” he says, reaching a hand up to touch my cheek. I step back, and he flinches.
“Sorry, it’s just… I’m working, Corey.” I glance around at the busy floor but, thankfully, I don’t see my manager.
“Can you get tonight off?” he asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans .
His ridiculous request, and the awkward stance he’s adopted makes me giggle. “Yeah, right,” I say, glancing back to see Carlos watching us, having already loaded my order on my tray. Thank you , I mouth to him. Turning back to Corey, I say, “I get off at 11. Pick me up then?”
“Look, Christian got us a box for the Vipers game tonight. It’s the last game of the season. I meant to text you and ask yesterday, but I forgot. I’m so sorry, Bex.” Corey’s eyes are full of remorse, and I hate that he feels bad, but I have work.
“Even if you had asked me yesterday, I’m on schedule for tonight,” I explain, turning to slide my tray off the service counter. “It’s a Friday night, game night.” I nod at his jersey. “I’m sorry, babe, it’s not possible.”
Corey steps closer to me. “I know I fucked up, but I only have two nights. Let me text Aaron,” he says, slipping his phone from his pocket.
“Absolutely not! Corey!” I can’t help but raise my voice slightly, causing a group of people walking by to look in our direction–great. I set the tray back down on the counter and reach for Corey’s phone. He uses his disgustingly sexy height to his advantage and holds it up higher. “Please do not embarrass me like this, Corey!”
My words cause him to pause, and he holds his hands up in defeat. Marla saunters back to the counter, eyeing my exchange. “Need me to take your tray, babe?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No, I’ve got it in a minute. Thanks.” She nods at me and gives Corey a look.
“Bex, I’m sorry,” he says, putting his phone back in his pocket. “I just thought if—”
“You want to pull strings to get me out of working a busy night, one where I might even make a decent amount of tips.” I reach for his hands, and as he takes mine, I consider just saying fuck it and go. But it can’t work like this. “I like you, Corey. A lot. Like, more than I probably should, given that we’ve known each other for less than a month.”
Corey grins at me and squeezes my hands. “I feel the same way, Bex.”
“But I can’t just drop my life, my work, when you come around. Please tell me you understand that.” I hope he truly does understand why this is so important to me. I need to have a boundary in this relationship.
Wow. Relationship. Does that make me his—
“Oh, good, you found your girlfriend!” Aaron walks up next to us, and I immediately drop Corey’s hands. Aaron is dressed far more casually than I’ve ever seen him, in a pair of jeans and a Vipers jersey that looks matte black.
“Mr. Blackwood,” I say, glancing back at the service counter where Carlos and Marla stare, mouths agape. “How can we help you?”
Aaron nods and waves at the team, then focuses back on me. “Bex, you can call me Aaron,” he says, before quizzically looking at my uniform. “Are you working right now?”
It takes everything in me to not roll my eyes and say, obviously . “Yes, sir,” I say, as Corey’s eyes flash. My face burns with embarrassment. “Sorry, yes, Mr. Blackwood. Aaron. Yes, I actually have a tray to go out…” I turn to wave at the tray, but it seems like Marla has picked it up for me.
Aaron looks at Corey. “I thought you told her about tonight?”
Sighing, Corey shrugs and says, “I completely forgot because I am an idiot.”
“Well—” Aaron begins to nod.
“No, you’re not an idiot. Even if he had told me, I was on the schedule for tonight. I’m sorry I can’t join you guys—”
“But I thought your friends were coming?” Aaron asks anxiously. Corey rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Wait, what?! Aaron looks back at me. “Bex, it’s all right. I’ll handle the rotation. ”
“Mr. Blackwood—” I start, but he flashes me a look. “Aaron,” I say more softly as he taps out something on his phone. “You really don’t need to do that. Tonight will be busy, and—”
“It’s already taken care of,” Aaron says, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “You know we have extra coverage for weekend nights, anyway.” He gives me a reassuring smile, but I’m not feeling it.
There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach, like I’m giving in. I just let my floor team down. My famous, well-connected boyfriend strolls in on one of our busiest nights and suddenly, I’m just released early from my shift? Off to party with them in a suite at the game, leaving my team to deal with the chaos and mess of a Friday night floor?
Corey touches me softly on my shoulder, and I look up at his beautiful smile. “Go get changed, sugar. We’ll get you a jersey at the game.”
He seems to miss the fact that I’m upset and completely misses why. “Sure,” I say, nodding slowly. I turn away from them and head toward the staff room.
“Please invite your friends!” Aaron calls after me. I glance over my shoulder to nod and see Corey giving his friend a shove in the shoulder.
It doesn’t matter, anyway. This late on a Friday night, Ally and Britney likely already have plans, and neither of them has ever given a shit about hockey. I pass by Marla on my way across the floor, and she slows her hustle down to say, “Lucky mama! Thanks for the extra tips!”
She laughs, so I know she’s not mad I’m leaving early. Part of me is hoping Marla gets my section, too—she can hustle hard and deserves the extra tips.
“Be good, baby!” she shouts as she saunters away.
When it comes to Corey, I’m not sure there’s such a thing as “being good.”