Cocky Prince

by Jules Barnard

  Lewis and his father own Sallee Construction and are often hired by the casino for construction jobs.

  He frowns. “Illegal. I could lose my license, and you might not be able to use the footage. Pretty sure you need a warrant to get that sort of thing.”

  Mira squeezes between Tyler’s legs on the other couch. “We could try to get in with the security guys who work the surveillance system. Like, oops, we just stumbled upon this here footage of an old guy paying the casino for drugs and kinky sex with a beautiful woman.”

  “Already looked into that,” I say. “The surveillance guys signed confidentiality agreements. They could serve prison time for stealing surveillance footage. And like Lewis said, I don’t think it would count in court.”

  “And they need a strong reason to order a warrant.” Gen sighs and slides down the arm of the couch until she’s sitting on one of Lewis’s legs. He absently pulls her higher on his lap. “According to my dad, as far as the police are concerned, Drake Peterson was the cause of the casino’s illegal activities, and he’s been taken care of.”

  “So we have nothing.” I tip my head back and stare at the planked wood ceiling. I love this ceiling, but right now I barely see it. “I work as a manager. It should be easy to find something to take to the police, if there’s really something going on.”

  Have we been wrong?

  Mira snarls. “Those sapphire ring guys are such bitches. How the hell are they hiding everything?”

  I shake my head. “I wish I knew.”

  “What about the background search? Did you find anything on Blackwell?”

  Remembering the articles I found, I rock forward and stand. “I did, actually.”

  I head into the spare bedroom and grab the printouts I made. I hand one to Tyler and Mira, and the other to Gen and Lewis. “Blackwell comes from money. And he has serious connections. His family started out in San Francisco real estate, made a fortune, then bought and ran several successful hotels. Check out the connection between him and a Mexican drug guy.”

  Mira scans the article. “The suspected drug trafficker? There’s nothing to confirm it.” She pulls out her iPhone and starts searching.

  “No proof, but come on, a major drug dealer? We know Blue stockpiled illegal drugs in the suite you and Tyler found. That can’t be a coincidence.”

  Mira shakes her head as she reads from her phone. “One or two articles suggest a connection between him and that guy, but there’s not much.”

  “I know,” I say, “but don’t you think it’s possible he’s Blackwell’s supplier?”

  Tyler shifts behind Mira. “Kind of a stretch. Plenty of drugs in this town. If Blackwell wants connections to dealers, all he has to do is step outside his door.”

  I bite the corner of my lip. “Am I the only one who thinks the link is suspicious?”

  Mira sets down her phone. “We’re just playing devil’s advocate, Hayden. You could be right, but that’s not the point. We need evidence. Regardless of whether or not Blackwell is getting help from De la Cruz, everything is behind closed doors. We’ve got nothing to go on.”

  Blackwell wouldn’t be able to get away with selling drugs and prostitution at one of his hotels in San Francisco. But here? Nevada promotes gambling and sin. It’s the perfect setup. On the other hand, Blue Casino isn’t some legal brothel off the beaten path. If Blackwell is hiding illegal drugs, and what we suspect is a prostitution ring, it would be inside a conventional establishment.

  “What about Adam?” Mira asks. “Did you take my suggestion?”

  I roll my eyes. “I thought about it, and you’ll be proud. I actually smiled at him after we parted the other day after lunch.”

  Mira shakes her head. “That’s a start, but you had better be prepared to make an about-face and kiss his ass.”

  “Mira.”

  “What? Work on that, will you? He’s our best lead.”

  Lewis inches over, giving Gen more room to sit. He stares at Mira. “What does Adam have to do with this?”

  Tyler tosses a chocolate-covered peanut in his mouth from the bowl of snacks I left out during my Blackwell research. “Mira and Hayden think Adam’s getting involved with the Blue Stars.” He chomps on the food and scratches his head. “Adam and I were on the soccer team together in high school. He can be a jackass, but he’s a decent guy. I don’t think he’d do that.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Adam,” Lewis agrees.

  Tyler raises his brow at Mira as if to say, I told you so.

  She crosses her arms. “Tyler, you saw the same thing I did.” She glares at Lewis. “And what happened to family loyalty?” Mira is like a little sister to Lewis. She’s clearly pulling the family card. “Something’s going on. We can’t just ignore this.”

  “No,” Lewis says, “but I don’t think Adam is involved. Not to mention, his family is richer than this entire town. What would he get out of it?”

  I scrunch my nose. I’d forgotten about Adam’s family. I mean, he walks around like a runway model for Armani. Even with his management salary, it’s nothing compared to the cash he must earn just by being a Cade.

  So why would Adam risk everything to get involved with Blackwell? Lewis is right. It doesn’t make sense.

  Have I been wrong about Adam working with the CEO? The guy is an opportunist, but maybe not as bad as I originally thought. He seemed sincerely upset when I told him I was the girl he’d told Jaeger to dump.

  Tyler grabs another handful of candy. “I’ll talk to Adam. See how things are at work.”

  Mira twists around and steals a chocolate-covered nut from him. “Would he tell you what they’re doing at Blue?”

  Tyler shrugs. “Can’t hurt to ask.”

  She looks back at me. “You need to try talking to him too. You work side by side with him now.”

  I press my fingers to my forehead. “Don’t remind me.”

  I forgive Adam for the past, but that doesn’t mean I trust him. Mira’s right, though. We need inside information, and I’m the best person to get close to him at work and check things out. And for the first time, I hope Lewis is correct and Adam isn’t involved in anything illegal.

  Chapter Nine

  Adam

  Bridget shows up for her first day of work, and she cometh bearing coffee.

  Entering my office, she sets down a to-go cup on my desk. “No cream or sugar. You don’t seem like a sweets sort of guy.” She winks, and right away my day is off to a good start.

  Bridget is wearing a light tweed pantsuit with a tasteful amount of cleavage in the form of a cream blouse with the top two buttons left open. A woman with forethought and a keen sense of aesthetics—what more could I ask for? As far as I’m concerned, I am a genius. I’ve hired the perfect assistant.

  Hayden will be furious.

  I rise from behind my desk, buttoning my suit jacket. “Why, thank you, Bridget. Let me show you where your office is.” I pick up the coffee and take a whiff. It’s a nutty, herbal scent. Gourmet.

  Everything about my second encounter with Bridget is different. The day I hired her, I tracked her down at Club Desire. She’d been recommended by Paul, and was wearing a lot less. Despite her lack of clothing during the interview, she carried herself with a professional air and seemed eager for a change of environment.

  I guide Bridget out of my office and to the right, where another room resides—this one small, but efficient. “IT set up your computer and connected your phone line. Most of our correspondence will be over email. You said you’re proficient with office software?”

  “Oh yes. The girls and I needed to be.” She runs a finger along the edge of her desk, her expression shielded. “You’d be surprised how much extra business is done over the computer.”

  Do I want to know what she’s referring to? I have a very good imagination.

  “Why don’t you log in and get the lay of the land? A default password is posted on your monitor, along with instructions on how to change it. I’ve link
ed my calendar to yours. I’d like you to attend and take notes at all of the meetings highlighted in green, so please check the dates and times.”

  “Of course.” Bridget sets her bag beside the chair at her desk and boots up her computer. She looks over, smiling. “I’ll just get settled.”

  “Excellent.” And what a fine time to gloat it is. Hayden has accused me of it before; no need to disappoint her now. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to talk about the first meeting we have this afternoon.”

  I head down the hall with a spring in my step. I rap on the door that is as familiar to me as my own.

  “Come in,” Hayden calls.

  I enter her office and notice her desk, which is, as usual, cluttered. And then there’s Hayden across the room, perfectly groomed in a snug, lightweight belted cardigan over a navy pencil skirt that hugs her shapely hips as she reaches to tuck a folder on the top shelf of a bookcase.

  One of the first things I noticed about Hayden was her incredible figure, and I’m not talking skinny waif, but curves in all the right places and a small waist.

  Her honey-brown hair and golden eyes flash as she glances over. “Oh, it’s you,” she says, as though she already knew it would be.

  Am I that predictable? Hmm, somehow that doesn’t bother me.

  I walk over and reach above her head, gently slipping the folder from her hand and putting it in place.

  “Thank you,” she mumbles, and tugs in her bottom lip with her top. It plumps back out, wet and inviting. A thrill more potent than Blondie grabbing my junk last night bolts through me.

  I clear my throat and glance at her desk. “You should straighten that up so the cleaning crew can do their job.”

  She squints at me, sparks firing from those beautiful eyes. “Did you come here for a reason?” She returns to her desk, shoulders tense as she drops briskly into her chair.

  I can’t hold back my smile. God, I love my job.

  I follow her over and run a finger along the surface. Her gaze tracks the motion as I rub my thumb and forefinger together, as if there’s dust. “Just wanted to know if you’ve had a chance to meet my new assistant?”

  Bridget walked into the building only ten minutes ago, so I know Hayden hasn’t. All the more reason to let Hayden know that my assistant is here, and that the bet is on.

  “She’s busy familiarizing herself with my calendar.” I raise the large to-go container in my hand. “Even brought me coffee. Bridget’s thoughtful like that.”

  Hayden frowns and crosses her arms.

  I turn and walk to the door. “Prepare to lose that bet, Hayden.”

  “It’s not over yet,” she calls as I exit the room, beaming. A soft thump sounds on the other side of the wall and my grin widens.

  I whistle as I make my way to my excellent new assistant.

  Okay, so excellent was a poor choice of words. Bridget has only been at Blue a couple of hours. Of course it will take her time to adjust.

  “I’m so sorry, Adam. I didn’t realize I’d be deleting the appointments from your calendar as well.” Bridget smiles sweetly, a chagrined look on her face as she stands in my office.

  Everyone makes mistakes now and then, right? “It’s your first day. I don’t expect perfection. Just make sure you connect with Blackwell’s secretary and fill in the meetings that were deleted. I’ll need that by the end of the day. Stay late if you have to.”

  “Oh, absolutely. I’ll take care of it.” Bridget hurries toward the door, right as Paul enters. He steps aside for her, winking and checking out her ass as she departs.

  Paul hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “I told you she was the one, didn’t I?”

  “She’ll do once she learns the ropes.” I pull on my glasses and look over the floor plan Paul’s secretary walked over before lunch. “So what is this?”

  Paul closes the door. “That is what you’ve been asking about. It’s the new venture. As head of hospitality, your services are integral in setting up Bliss. We started with two suites, but four brand new ones are under construction.”

  “So what are they for, exactly? In-room gambling, personal masseuse? I see the full bar in the schematics.”

  He grins, his jaw shifting as though he’s attempting to hold back his amusement. “Those things, sure. And more.”

  I set the plans on my desk and let out a deep breath. “Explain more.”

  Paul drops into one of the chairs across from me and crosses his legs at the knee. “For one, there will be women—let’s call them professional dancers.”

  “You’re hiring strippers?”

  “Exotic dancers. And they’ll be under contract, and not actual employees of the casino.”

  “So strippers. What else?” I glance at the plans again. There are four bedrooms per suite, and what looks to be a large, elaborate communal dining area, a desk area—which is more of a reception inside the suite—and no balcony. All of Blue’s suites have balconies. “According to these plans, the Bliss suites are larger than anything we have at the casino. Why wouldn’t they have balconies?”

  “You know how the rich and famous bring in drugs, and there’s nothing we can do about it?” I nod. “We’re going to”—he wags his head, as if attempting to come up with the right words—“continue to turn a blind eye. Balconies and low windows are too convenient for prying eyes. We want to protect our most ardent clientele.”

  “So women and drugs,” I say, making sure I’ve nailed the finer points.

  Paul nods with a shrug. “Basically.”

  I pull off my glasses and rub my temples. Paul’s leaving shit out, and he’s not one to hold back. He has a tendency to share too much information, particularly when it comes to female conquests. “Do I want to know what you aren’t telling me?”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says straight-faced. “What you see is basically it. And your job,” he says slowly, as if I’m a toddler, “is to help us hire the strippers, bodyguards, and get that Bridget trained so she can support the suite concierges.”

  With four brothers, I’ve learned to control my temper. But whatever Paul’s not saying about Bliss and, most especially, the condescending manner in which he’s speaking to me, have my blood rising.

  I stand and face the window and the view of the lake. My view is different than Hayden’s, facing northwest toward my home and Club Tahoe instead of Heavenly and South Shore. A different shade of beautiful.

  This job is my chance at freedom from the family funds. I could find another job, but one where the financial gain means no change in lifestyle? Not likely, with or without the Ivy League degree. Which means I need to put up with Paul’s condescending mouth. Can’t be worse than what I put up with working for my father.

  I turn my back to the window and lean my hip against the ledge, crossing my arms. “As I said when you first proposed this venture, give me a list of employees and the attributes you want in them—since I’m sure you have something in mind if you’re hiring strippers—and I’ll take care of it.”

  Paul stands and tilts his head toward Bridget’s office. “More like her. I’ll make a list of exactly what we’re looking for and have it to you first thing tomorrow.” He strides to the door and pulls it open. “Tonight, I’m going to see what plans your assistant has.”

  “Paul,” I say before he’s gone. “Keep your hands off Bridget. You remember the last executive who thought he could touch?”

  Paul’s face turns stony. “You weren’t here then, so I suggest you mind your own damn business.”

  He exits, leaving the door open, and heads in Bridget’s direction.

  I have no doubt she can handle herself against guys like Paul. Probably had to deal with them every day at her old job. But she works for me now, and I’ll keep an eye on her just the same.

  I sink into my chair and stare at the schematics. “What are you, Bliss? A luxury suite built for pleasure, and what else?”

  Chapter Ten

  I pull up to my eldes
t brother’s place. Levi lives in a log cabin off State Route 207. This eastern part of the Tahoe Basin looks different than the west side, the land here filled with brush and evergreen bushes. When glaciers scoured out the western side thousands of years ago, it skimmed off the topsoil, but these soils were left intact. The mountains where my brother lives are almost lush compared to the craggy granite and pine of Emerald Bay.

  Grace, Levi’s dog, darts out the screen door and launches herself at my legs, her strong little body butting up against me. “Hey there, Gracie. You been a good girl?” I scratch behind her ears with one hand and close the door with my other, leaning into her body so she doesn’t get caught between the door and the side of the car in her wiggle frenzy.

  Grace licks my pant leg and marks up my polished shoes with her tongue, taking a moment to sniff one. “Just me, girl. Haven’t traded you for another lady.”

  The screen door opens again, and Levi hobbles out, his ankle in a cast, a nearly full-grown beard on his face. I’ve never seen a black eye as bad as the one Levi’s been sporting these last couple of weeks. It covers his face, going from the middle of his forehead across the slope of his nose and halfway down his cheekbone, and looks nasty as hell.

  “When was the last time you saw a razor?” Beards are popular again, but Levi is a clean-cut guy. He grew whiskers younger than the rest of us, and has been fighting the battle ever since.

  He scratches his beard. At least the T-shirt he’s wearing appears clean. “Can’t remember.” Levi gives Grace a pat, since she’s tossed me over and turned her attentions to him. “What brings your sorry ass around?”

  He moves to the side of the porch and props his walking cast on a bench, dropping onto the porch swing.

  I climb the steps and glance pointedly at the Italian suit I’m wearing, then back at his cast. “My sorry ass? My sorry ass is in fine form, or so the ladies tell me.” I grin cockily.