Chapter 3 #2
“Not him. Me.” Leo’s grin was pure mischief. “I needed an excuse to get him away from your door so I could check on you without the CEO hovering like an expensive security blanket.”
“You lied to your brother.”
“I strategically redirected his attention.” He leaned back, arm stretched along the sofa behind me but not touching. “There’s a difference.”
“That’s a terrible difference.”
“I know. I’m a terrible person.” He didn’t look remotely sorry. “But you’ve been through hell, and I figured you might want to talk to someone who wasn’t going to give you the professional CEO speech about insurance and accommodations and legal protocols.”
He had a point. Orion had been perfect—protective, careful, everything I needed in the moment. But there’d been a formality to it, a distance maintained even when he held my hand.
Leo felt different. Warmer. Like he might actually tell me the truth instead of the carefully curated version designed to avoid lawsuits.
“What’s in the bag?” I asked.
“Greek food from that place on Spring Mountain. They’re one of the few restaurants that take food allergies seriously.
I called ahead, gave them your restrictions.
Everything in here is safe.” He pulled out containers.
“Grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, rice pilaf, and baklava because life’s too short to skip dessert even when it’s trying to kill you. ”
My stomach growled so loudly it echoed off the windows.
Leo laughed. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“Hospital gave me Jell-O this morning. Before that…” I tried to remember. “The microwave meal that became an accelerant.”
“Jesus.” He opened containers, the scent of lemon and herbs and garlic filling the suite. “Okay, new rule. You eat. I’ll talk. No pressure to respond.”
He handed me a fork and I dug in like a starving animal, which wasn’t far from the truth. The chicken was perfect—tender, seasoned, not trying to kill me with hidden allergens. I made an embarrassing noise.
“Good?” Leo asked, grinning.
“So good.” I swallowed. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.” He picked at the rice pilaf, not really eating. “You know what I think? I think you’re overwhelmed because people keep doing nice things and you’re not used to it.”
The observation hit too close. I focused on my chicken.
“Your ex,” Leo continued carefully. “The one from the photo situation. He wasn’t big on nice gestures, was he?”
“How do you—”
“Because you looked at those flowers like they might explode. And when Orion said we’d replace your laptop, you looked terrified. Like kindness was a trap.”
I set down my fork. “You’re very perceptive for someone who pretends to be the fun brother.”
“Who says I’m pretending?” But his smile had an edge now. “I’m the CMO, Tashi. Chief Marketing Officer. My job is reading people, understanding what they want, what they fear, what makes them tick. And right now? You’re scared.”
“I nearly died in a fire.”
“You’re scared of this.” He gestured at the suite. “Of us. Of what it means that three men you barely know are going out of their way to take care of you.”
My throat tightened. “It’s too much.”
“It’s not enough,” he said quietly. “Not for what you’ve been through. Not for what you deserve.”
I stared at him. At this forty-something man with salt-and-pepper hair and laugh lines around his eyes, who’d just accurately diagnosed my entire emotional state while feeding me Greek food and admitting he’d lied to his brother to see me alone.
“Why?” I whispered.
“Why what?”
“Why do you care? I’m just—I’m an employee who screwed up spectacularly on her first day.”
Leo’s smile remained bright. “This is Vegas. You have to do a whole lot more than have your microwave burst into flame. We’re in Sin City, remember? Conflagrations are expected.”
I laughed, a raw sound that scraped my throat as it came out.
Leo winked at me. “There you go. That’s the spirit.”
“But that text—”
He laughed. “Oh, that? Do you know how often a dancer’s costume slips on stage?”
“No.”
“Oh, yes. Audience size doubles after the rumors fly.”
“That’s terrible,” I said with a laugh.
He paused, choosing words carefully. “Let’s just say that photo didn’t shock as much as you’d expect. Though,” he added quickly, “it was a gorgeous picture.”
Heat flooded my face. “Leo—”
Now his tone got serious. “I have a confession to make.”
Here it is, the come-on. “You do?”
“All of this is good business.”
Those were not the words I expected, and I was slightly offended. “Excuse me?”
Leo scrubbed his face with his hand. “I’m not saying this right.
Look, you’re smart, talented, funny when you’re not terrified, and yes, beautiful.
My brothers noticed. I noticed. We’re human.
The fact is, Tashi, we need you and your talents to help us rehabilitate the reputation of the Olympus Royale.
I have no ego about where my talents lie.
If I was able to do what you can do, I would have done it by now.
But nothing I’m doing is working. You heard our daily sales report.
Those numbers are off by thirty-one percent from last year.
That’s a significant money loss the hotel can’t sustain. ”
Another knock at the door interrupted what I was going to say.
“That’ll be Ares,” Leo said, standing. “I texted him the coast was clear.”
“You coordinated this?”
“Told you. Marketing genius.” He winked and opened the door.
Ares stepped inside, somehow making the spacious suite feel smaller just with his presence.
He wore dark slacks and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that suggested he didn’t skip the gym.
His hair was damp like he’d just showered, and he smelled like cedar and something darker.
His eyes went immediately to me, then to the food containers, and back to me.
“You’re eating,” he said. “Good.”
“Leo brought food.”
“I coordinated,” Ares corrected. “Leo executed. I’m the one who called the restaurant.”
Leo grinned. “See? Teamwork.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Ares said to his brother. “Orion’s going to figure out you sent him on a fake errand.”
“Let him figure it out. I got her fed, didn’t I?”
Ares’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he moved to the windows, checking the locks with practiced efficiency. Then the door. Then the panic button by the bed.
“Security’s outside,” he said. “Handpicked. They know to call me directly if anything seems off.”
“Off how?” I asked.
He turned, and his dark green eyes met mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. “If anyone approaches your door who isn’t supposed to be here. If anything feels wrong. If you so much as think something’s not right.”
“That seems excessive.”
“It’s necessary.” His voice carried an edge that suggested this wasn’t up for debate. He moved closer, standing with military posture that screamed control. His hands flexed at his sides. “This floor has the best security in the building. We’re here. You’re safe.”
“And the flowers? The laptop? The clothes?”
Leo squeezed my shoulder. “We want you to feel welcome.”
I looked between them. Leo with his warm eyes and effortless smile. Ares with his rigid posture and barely controlled fury. Two very different men who’d apparently coordinated to make sure I was fed, protected, and reassured.
I wasn’t used to this.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Ares nodded once, sharp and military.
Leo grinned and squeezed my shoulder again. “You get some rest. And later, dress up,” he said. “I want you to see the real Vegas.”
Then they left.
And I sat in my luxury suite, surrounded by flowers and food, and wondered what I had done to deserve all this.