Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
William stays back to check in with a few of the dancers from the club, and the rest of us head for Bliss and the grand opening party the casino is hosting.
We enter the crowded suite, and several burlesque dancers are already mingling with the crowd.
There are other women there too. Considering their beauty and sophisticated but sexy attire, my guess is these other women are the professional escorts.
They don’t appear to be attached to any one man, and all of them are near guards I hired.
I grab a glass of champagne and talk with the CEO of a popular hotel chain. He’s in his mid-fifties and wearing a wedding ring, but his gaze keeps drifting to a redheaded burlesque dancer.
“So I told the son of my business associate,” the CEO says, “we don’t allow prostitutes in our hotels.” He glances at the redhead again and grins. “Not that there’s anything wrong with paying for beauty. But our hotels have a reputation to uphold, and—”
The CEO says something else, but I stop paying attention. Because two additional bodyguards enter through the suite’s elevator, along with more escorts.
I find it strange that they’re entering via the emergency exit. In fact, the more I study the people inside the suite, something seems off. The escorts are sitting on love seats or standing stiffly off to the side chatting with guests, but they appear reserved…almost nervous.
I excuse myself from the CEO, and approach the escort nearest me. She’s dressed like the others, very classy and pretty in a low-cut red dress, and there’s a bodyguard a few feet away. I sit on the loveseat beside her, and her eyes dart around, her body tensing.
I had nothing to do with hiring escorts for Bliss. Paul said he’d found the perfect solution and no longer needed my help. I didn’t find it odd at the time, particularly since I wanted no part of it. Now I’m wishing I paid more attention.
“I’m Adam,” I say to the woman. “And you are?”
“Victoria,” she says with a heavy Latin accent. South American, if I’m not mistaken.
“Pleasure to meet you. Are you a guest, or…”
“I work,” she says shyly.
I nod, considering. “Have you been in Lake Tahoe long?”
She glances at the bodyguard a few feet away, then back at me, but not looking me in the eye. “No.”
I peer at the guard I vaguely remember hiring. He was one of about ten Blackwell requested. “Do you plan to stay?”
She wrings her hands together. “Ye-yes.”
That didn’t come out confident. And it didn’t sound like a person happy to be here either. “How old are you, Victoria?”
She hesitates. “Eighteen.” This time she looks down.
It’s difficult to tell, because she’s dressed as a mature, seductive woman, but she doesn’t come across as seductive, or secure, or eighteen.
“Have you seen much of Lake Tahoe? Taken any tours?” I’m talking to keep her engaged, because something isn’t right here.
She hesitates a moment, as though translating my question in her head. “No,” she says, and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, avoiding eye contact again.
“You haven’t been to the lake?” Lake Tahoe is the reason people travel from all over the world to visit.
“I not stay long,” she says in broken English, then looks hesitantly to her guard. “I here for work.”
“I see.” But I really don’t. This conversation is getting stranger by the minute. “What part of town are you living in?”
The guard steps forward. “All right, Victoria,” he says, cutting off the conversation. “Give the other ladies a chance to talk to the gentlemen.” He grabs her lightly by the elbow and guides her away, leading her to the elevator.
What the fuck was that?
I lean forward, elbows on my knees, and study each of the women inside the suite, including the new ones who arrived a few minutes ago.
A couple of them look comfortable talking to the men in the room, and the burlesque dancers seem totally at ease, but the others appear just as uptight and nervous as Victoria.
And they seem to be rotating in and out through the elevator instead of the front door.
I spot Paul across the room. He’s talking to a guest—another retired athlete, by the look of him. I stand and walk over.
“Pardon the interruption,” I say to the guest, and turn to Paul. “May I speak to you for a moment?”
Paul flags a waiter and grabs another drink for his guest, then waves over one of the burlesque dancers. His guest seems happy to replace him with the beautiful woman, and Paul and I move into a corner.
I lower my voice, my expression mild. “Where did you find the escorts?”
Paul nods across the room at another person who just walked in. “Gorgeous, aren’t they? A little green, but that won’t take long to wear off.”
I keep my anger in check, but after tonight, it’s a challenge. “You could say that. The one I spoke to appeared scared.”
Paul’s satisfied smirk drops, and his gaze slides to me. “They’re trained to be friendly. Which one was it?”
“Trained? Are we discussing pets, or women?”
“Is there a difference?” At my look, Paul straightens the sleeve of his shirt beneath his jacket. “Don’t be uptight, Cade. They’re professional escorts. They’re paid to be pleasant and friendly.”
I nod toward the back of the room. “Why are they entering through the emergency elevator and not the front door?”
He chuckles. “You seem overly curious. Interested in one of them?”
“Answer the question.”
This time Paul frowns. “It’s more secure.”
“How are beautiful women crossing the casino floor a security risk? I would think they’d be a draw for the casino.”
He shrugs noncommittally. “We wouldn’t want to lose one of them.”
Both of us stare at the crowd for a moment, my unease growing.
I rub my jaw. “Let me ask you something. Were these women brought into the country to fill the escort positions?”
Paul grins, his gaze flicking to mine. “You’re a sharp one, Cade. That’s why we brought you on board. And because you’ve been in the business your entire life, you know how things are run.”
He turns toward me and his expression shifts from charming guest greeter to cold businessman.
“Our stable of escorts are”—his head tilts and he glances up unseeing, as though thinking—“exotic, from all over the world. These women wanted to come to the States, and Blackwell’s connections made that possible.
The ladies live a couple of blocks away—off-site, just how Blackwell wanted it.
They’re provided for and protected twenty-four-seven.
” He chuckles. “It’s a damn sorority house, filled with beautiful, sexy women—can you imagine?
I have it in mind to make my way over there and inspect the pillow fighting. ”
I ignore his attempt at humor, my gut churning with his words.
“Don’t worry,” Paul continues. “We have the best guards looking out for them, thanks to you and Blackwell. All we have to do is call up to the house, and an escort is sent whenever we want.”
I nod slowly, as though this is fine, when it’s the opposite. “Are they paid for their time?”
Paul checks his watch, and I can tell I’m about to lose him.
“The guy who brought the women in supplies them with whatever they need, and they work for him. Net-net, they’re ours for two years.
If we like some of them, we can keep them longer.
” Paul’s eyes narrow at the expression on my face.
I might be shooting him a death glare. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.
It happens all the time. These women wanted to get away from whatever miserable life they had. Think of it as a charity.”
“To be a sex slave?”
Paul laughs outright. “Oh, come on. Let’s not go that far. You know how women are. They like things. And these women are given designer clothing, introduced to rich, influential men. I wouldn’t be surprised if we lost a few of them to powerful Bliss members who wanted exclusive access.”
The heat of my anger burns the back of my neck. I look away before I hit Paul.
“Look, Cade, I’ve already told you. The boss’s friends aren’t people you want to cross.
Stop asking questions.” He waves around.
“Just look at these women. They’re ripe and stunning.
They’ve saved this venture a ton of money—money that will go back into our pockets at the end of the year. Remember that.”
“As long as the bottom line doesn’t suffer.”
“Exactly,” Paul says, missing my sarcasm. He raises his hand as if to slap me on the shoulder, and drops it at the black look I level at him.
He glances over my shoulder. “The quarterback you brought in at the last minute just arrived. Why don’t you bring him back? Give him a tour. Introduce him to some of the ladies.”
Gabe Aldridge spots me and moves toward the center of the room. He’s a middle-aged retired quarterback with a good reputation in the sports industry. “You’re right. He’d love to meet these women.”
“That’s the spirit.” Paul walks off, and I take a deep breath, peering around the room. I don’t know how I missed it when I first arrived, but I’m seeing it now.
My hands shake with unbanked anger. This is all wrong.
It has been from the moment I agreed to play a role in Bliss.
Hayden was right. She mistrusted Blackwell from the beginning.
Challenged him. I thought he was like my father—power hungry and disinterested, bending a few of the rules to suit himself.
But Blackwell is nothing like my father.
Ethan Cade would never support unscrupulous or inhumane activities. Like human trafficking.
I’m only thankful I got Hayden out of the casino when I did. I don’t want to be caught up in this mess, but it would be a million times worse if she were here.