by Rosanna Leo
Wade laughed. “I always thought it was a bit much myself.”
“If I’m going to be living here, I need something more zen-like.”
“Zen, huh? That doesn’t sound like Vegas at all.”
“Maybe not, but simplifying my life has helped me get through the past year.”
Wade caressed the overstuffed Italian leather couch. “So all of this is going to go?”
“All of it.”
“You’re different.”
“Change is good, Wade. Embrace it.”
Alex walked over to the enormous window at one side of the office, the one with the view of the Strip. In the daytime, it reminded him of an amusement park. The other casinos resembled hulking carnival rides. It came alive at night, the entire area pulsing with activity and desire for sensation.
Everyone in this city wanted something, someone. In most cases, they found it. Sometimes it was as easy as calling a number on a card. He had no doubt, however, that other visitors to Vegas sought something they couldn’t identify. A magic moment that would either change their lives or help them escape the life they knew.
Either way, they all sought pleasure in one form or another.
Alex would provide that pleasure. He would create the perfect escape, a refuge so addictive they would have no choice but to return again and again.
All he ever wanted was to be a success, to make his parents proud. Maksim and Natasha Markov had given him everything. Unconditional love, a first-class education, and space to make lots of mistakes.
He’d certainly made mistakes with Shannon and the whole world knew it, even if they didn’t know the extent of it.
Guilt gnawed at Alex’s insides as his former girlfriend’s voice spoke to him from the grave.
You did this to me, Alex. It’s all your fault.
He clutched the windowsill, closed his eyes, and forced calm into his being.
Wade approached Alex from the side. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
Regrets wouldn’t serve him well now. The best thing he could do was keep busy. Being industrious had carried him through the trials of the past year and his ability to focus would help him become more successful than ever before.
When he’d opened Champagne and Liberty, his New York clubs, he’d tasted a dollop of true success. With Vice and his two other casino hotels, that success would be cemented.
Right now, this was Alex’s time, and he would make a difference.
But he would do it his way. Not Liam’s, not anyone else’s. By the time he was done with Vice, it would be the most popular casino hotel in the world.
Alex clapped Wade on the shoulder and led back him to the elevators. “I have great plans for this place, Wade. Wait and see.”
“Sounds awesome.”
“First things first. I want to meet as many staff members as possible. You know this place better than anyone.” He summoned the elevator and they got in. “Lead the way.”
As they descended, another woman’s face flashed in front of his eyes and Alex indulged in a quick daydream.
Dana.
He’d barely spent an hour in the woman’s company two months ago and he still couldn’t get her out of his head.
Dana, the one who’d made him forget himself.
He just wasn’t sure he deserved to forget.
He’d flirted with the idea of searching for Dana, but with nothing more than a face and a first name to go by, he hadn’t bothered. What good would it do, anyway? They may have shared a raw sexual encounter in a tacky bathroom, but she’d left him high and dry.
Clearly, she hadn’t wanted a second round. It seemed stupid to waste time thinking of her now. Even if he did happen to run into her, what would happen? She’d probably take one look and run.
There was nothing quite like getting rejected by the same woman a second time. He wasn’t sure he had the stomach for that kind of embarrassment. There was no way he could tolerate a put down from Dana, the stranger whose fragrant skin and quiet moans had soothed his soul for an evening.
She might be his favorite daydream, and a memory that caused his mouth to run dry, but that was all she would ever be.
Besides, he had work to do now.
His Dana fantasies would have to come to an end.
It was time to create some new fantasies.
***
Shortly after arriving at Vice, Alex realized he was being stalked.
Badly.
The paparazzo wasn’t even trying to hide the fact he was trailing Alex. If Alex had business at reception, the man would stop at one of the lobby bars and strike up a conversation with the bartender on duty. If Alex walked through the casino, the man followed, always at a distance.
It was starting to get on his nerves.
With the walls of Vice surrounding him, Alex felt more at ease. This guy had dared to set foot inside his safe place. Alex didn’t want to have to keep looking over his shoulder.
Now, as he walked to the site of Vice’s former piano bar, invisible fingers teased the back of his neck. A backward glance confirmed the paparazzo once again followed him.
“For fuck’s sake.” As much as it made him feel sick, it was time for a confrontation. When he reached a quiet hallway, he turned around. “What do you want?”
The man aimed his camera, took a picture and shrugged. “You’re an interesting guy. I’m just waiting for you to do something…interesting.” He took another photo.
“You’re going to be waiting a long time. Now get that camera out of my face.”
“Got something to hide, Killer?”
“Killer, huh? That’s inventive. I’ve never heard that one before.”
“You know what they say about the shoe fitting.” Flash, flash.
“Look, I’m pretty sure your readers, although I use the term loosely, aren’t going to want to shell out their hard-earned cash for pictures of me standing in a hallway.”
“We’ll see, Alex. We’ll see.”
“It’s Mr. Markov to you.”
“Ooh, formal. A stickler for etiquette, are you? Is that why you killed your girlfriend? Because she dared to use your first name?”
“Get the fuck off my property.”
“I’m not bothering any customers. How do you know I’m not just a tourist who lost his way in the hotel?”
Once his blood pressure started to race, Alex figured it was better to call in the experts. He dialed Wade on his cellphone. “Wade, he’s back.”
“Where are you?”
“Near the entrance to Decadence. I’m meeting Marissa in a few minutes and I’d rather not expose her to this filth.”
“I’m on my way.”
Knowing Wade, he’d be moving at a good clip. He’d been on the lookout for the man ever since Alex first noticed him and his hands must be itching with the need to escort him to the door.
“Ah, come on,” said the paparazzo. “Be a good sport. The world wants your story. I’m giving you a chance to share it.”
“There’s no story.”
“That’s not what the parents of Shannon Dean keep saying. They have some definite ideas about you, mister. Did you hear the latest? They’re saying that even if you didn’t kill Shannon, you drove her to suicide.”
Even though every muscle in Alex’s body was screaming at him to use them against the man, he stood still, hands clenched. “She didn’t commit suicide. It was an accident. Ask the coroner.”
“Right. Because coroners are infallible. They never get anything wrong, do they?”
Rise above it. If you react, it’ll be all over the papers.
“So tell me the truth. We know you argued with Shannon before she died. You admitted as much yourself. Did you tell her to commit suicide?”
Where the fuck was Wade?
Just like that, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. Wade appeared around the corner, his face red. “Oy! Patterson, you son of a bitch, didn’t I warn you to stay away?”
Wade snarled.
“On second thought, maybe some other time.” The paparazzo broke into a sprint. “See you, Killer!”
As the pursuit steered away from him, Alex tasted blood. Shit. He’d been biting his lip and hadn’t even noticed. He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
The door to the old piano bar opened. Marissa Flores appeared, her shrewd eyes narrowed. “Hey, Alex. You okay?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry for the excitement.”
“Come here. I know you’re my boss and hugs are probably not professional, but I’ll take that risk.”
They embraced. Alex held her at arm’s length. “It’s nice to see a friendly face from home.”
“You too.” Marissa nodded toward the spot where Wade and Patterson disappeared. “What happened?”
“Just another rag reporter. Only Wade has a grudge against this one. They have history. Apparently, he used to hassle Liam when he owned the place as well. He’s the sort of dirt bag who likes to invent stories.”
“Nice.”
“You got settled okay?”
“You bet. I’ve already been here for an hour, double-checking some measurements.”
“Of course you have. You look good, by the way. Life’s treating you well?”
“Oh, you know. Life’s busy.”
“It’s hard creating trends everywhere you go, isn’t it?”
Marissa rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I’m such a style icon.”
Despite the self-deprecating tone in Marissa’s voice, she spoke the truth. In New York, she was regarded as a trendsetter in the design business. She had been the creative genius behind Champagne and Liberty, Alex’s two New York clubs, and had been overwhelmed with contracts since.
“I’m lucky I was able to lure you away.”
“Alex, you gave me a chance when no one else would. The Queen of England could ask me to give Buckingham Palace a makeover and I’d drop her for you.”
He gave her a look.
“Okay. Maybe I would just reschedule her.” She landed a soft punch on his arm. “I’ve been thinking about you. How have you been coping?”
“I cope. That’s all that matters.”
“Stoic as ever.”
“You know me.”
“Yes, I do.” She sighed and waved toward the entrance to Decadence. “Let’s go inside.”
“You bet.” Alex didn’t want any hassles today. This was a big day for Vice, a day to initiate change.
Granted, he’d already made a few changes.
His renovation team had been working day and night to transform Liam’s former home into a suitable abode for Alex. The office no longer held any trace of its former lavishness. Some might call it plain, spartan even.
To Alex, it was perfect. When a room was free of clutter, he could think better, breathe deeper.
Every time he detected a whiff of the fading fresh paint, he smelled satisfaction. The walls were now a calming dove grey. The heavy light fixtures had been replaced with pot lights in the ceiling. All of Liam’s plush pieces of furniture had been removed and donated to local charities. A basic desk area had been set up in the corner overlooking the Strip. To the right of the desk lay a casual seating area with minimalist furniture. Several green plants transformed the space into a mini-oasis.
As for the private area that housed his bedroom, that had been scaled back as well. As much as he appreciated the luxury of Liam’s built-in gas fireplace along the bed footboard, he didn’t imagine he’d have much use for it in the Las Vegas heat. Alex had heard through one of his team members that a women’s shelter was looking for financial assistance so they could begin some much-needed renovations. After making a donation, he’d asked if they might like the fireplace and they’d happily accepted it. It would bring some cozy ambience to a place that held so little cheer.
Things were coming together.
It was now time to embark on his first major project. Liam had planned to open Decadence, a piano bar, but he’d never gotten around to it. The site remained the one vacant piece of real estate in the hotel complex.
Marissa would help him change all that.
He opened the door for her and they walked into the empty bar. “Now that you’ve seen it in person, what do you think?”
“I think it’s beautiful, like a jewel box in the heart of Las Vegas.”
A group of men in hard hats were already in the midst of dismantling the jewel box, ripping out upholstery and furniture. Marissa grabbed two hard hats, handed one to Alex, and they put them on.
“It is beautiful, just not what I had in mind. It doesn’t exactly scream ‘nightclub.’ Decadence is ethereal. I want Covet to be a place of primal energy.”
“Ah. You’ve landed on a name for your nightclub, I see.” She hummed in appreciation. “Covet, as in wanting what you can’t have.”
“And that’s exactly how people will feel if they don’t get in. We’re going to keep them coming back. Covet will be the ultimate escape, a place of total excess. I want my customers to be transported, taken out of themselves for a few hours. I want them to forget their troubles. Hell, I want to make them forget their names.”
“No concerns with my design?”
“No. It’s brilliant.”
When Marissa had first shown him her plans for the club, it had taken him all of two minutes to buy into the idea. With sleek furnishings and rich colors throughout, it was welcoming without being quaint. Metallic fittings gave it an edge. Heavy stone plinths and columns stood around the room, balancing out the industrial feel with a touch of antiquity. Red velvet curtains would hang near some booths, transforming them into private nooks. Reproductions of religious icons would hang on the walls. Blasphemous, but he liked it. State-of-the-art LED lighting would create hypnotizing effects, tempting revelers onto the massive dancefloor and toward the swimming pool outside. The outdoor area would be stocked with its own bar and cabanas, and guests could swim if they wanted.
Total excess.
“Are we still on track to open in a month’s time?”
“Absolutely. I had less time to turn around that old steakhouse in Miami.”
“I knew you were the right person for the job.”
“Thank you.” A flash of color brightened Marissa’s cheeks. “I assume you still want to host a big opening night party.”
“Of course.”
“You don’t have to host it yourself, you know.”
“And disappoint all my friends?”
“I’m sure your friends would deal with their disappointment.”
Alex was taken aback. Marissa had never questioned his choices before. There was a certain pinch around her eyes, a tightness that was all too familiar.
He’d seen it in Shannon’s face a hundred times.
These people aren’t your friends, Alex. They’re using you. Maybe you should spend less time catering to them and more time with the people who actually care about you.
He bit back the response on his tongue. “What’s going on here?”
“You’ve been through a lot this past year. You told me you wanted to start over in Vegas. If this is a fresh start for you, then why not hire someone to host your parties?”
“There are VIPs who come to my events, people who pay a premium for our services and unique touch. There are expectations, and one of those expectations is that I’ll be there to welcome them.”
She took a moment to choose her next words. “Alex, your VIP customers are wealthy people. They can snap their fingers and someone will amuse them. I know you like to think they rely on you for their entertainment needs, but they can easily find entertainment elsewhere.”
“Exactly. I don’t want them to find entertainment elsewhere. I want them to spend their money in my clubs. If that means I have to cater to them, then I will. They provide a lot of free buzz for m
e and all I have to do is take selfies with them so they can say they partied with Alex Markov. Without them, I wouldn’t be as successful. They’re my bread and butter.”
“That’s a crock of shit and you know it. You just bought three casino hotels. You’re doing all right.”
Once more, she took him off guard. Their working relationship had evolved into a good friendship but Marissa had never been this blunt before. He wasn’t sure he liked it.
“Besides, you’re not personally hosting events at Champagne and Liberty anymore. You have people to do that now that you’re in Vegas. You can’t be expected to attend all your events. You’ll be a vampire, living at night. How are you supposed to function? How will you handle the other demands of the business? Alex, I’m going to be honest with you. Over the past couple of years, I’ve seen this lifestyle wear you down. This job, it used to energize you. Little by little, you’ve grown jaded and tired and stressed.”
“It’s just the press.”
“It’s not just them. It’s the grind. I’ve seen you work all hours of the night and then show up again in the morning. It’s not healthy. Besides, you don’t even enjoy your own parties. I know you’re not happy. Not really.”
“Wow. Anything else you’d like to share?”
“Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad.”
“I’m just worried about you overextending yourself. You can’t run three casino hotels and party into the wee hours with Hollywood actors who don’t have to worry about waking up at dawn.”
“I appreciate what you’re saying, but you don’t need to worry. I’m a big boy, Marissa, and I’ve been doing this a long time. I have it down to a science. If it gets to be too much, I’ll take a break.”
Marissa scrunched up her mouth the way she did when she was concentrating. She took a deep breath. As her face relaxed, her professionalism was restored. “Okay. I’ve said my piece. I’ll get back to work.”
“I leave it in your capable hands.”
“I won’t let you down, Alex.”
“You never have.”
“Covet will be special.”
“If you tossed broken peanut shells on the floor and put up a mechanical bull and called it ‘fresh and exciting,’ everyone would still buy it because you said it. Once word gets out that you designed the new club at Vice, everyone will want in.”
