by V. K. Sykes
“Well, we can’t tolerate card counting of any kind, no matter how unsophisticated,” Nick said in a firm voice. “So, my recommendation, Chief, is that we bar Ms. Bligh from further blackjack play at the Desert Oasis, both now and in future.”
There. Carson could try to hang him high, but Nick knew he’d made the correct call. Sadie wasn’t a con artist, and she didn’t deserve to be blackballed from every casino in the country.
“Aw, that’s nice. Why don’t we send her champagne and a box of chocolates, too?” Carson sneered. “That’s some impressive sanction, Saxon. Your little friend runs a counting scheme, but we let her play every other game in our casino? And leave her free to count cards at every other house in the country? Sure, that makes sense to me.”
Nick dropped his hand down beside his chair and clenched it into a fist. Christ, he hated sarcasm. And he hated the smug look on Carson’s face. “First of all, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop referring to Ms. Bligh as ‘my little friend’. I’m a professional, and I’ve handled this situation professionally.”
“The jury’s still out on that, Saxon. You’ve been spending a hell of a lot of time with her. In all kinds of places. You’ve been monitoring her closely, so to speak.”
Nick held on to the edges of his fraying temper. Whatever else he’d done, he had investigated Sadie’s card-counting and arrived at an honest and appropriate conclusion. “You’re rejecting my recommendation?”
“Your recommendation comes out of your ass, Saxon,” Carson said with a snort. “Or, should I say, out of your dick. What do you think? Of course I’m rejecting it!”
The fury surging through Nick’s body brought him to his feet. Carson bolted up an instant behind him.
“Go for it, Saxon. Take a swing. Make my whole year.” Carson’s mocking grin was an invitation to disaster, and Nick knew it. As much as he’d love to break the guy’s nose—just like his father had—there was too much at stake. One punch and his ass would be thrown out the door. No other hotel or casino would hire him after he’d decked his boss. Not to mention that Carson would likely file assault charges against him.
The two glared at each other for several long seconds, neither backing down. Finally, Carson’s gaze shifted away, and Nick felt a small measure of satisfaction.
Very small.
“We’re done, Saxon. Get out of here,” Carson spat out in a furious voice. “Go tell your honey to pack her bags and check out today. Then put her on the goddamn blacklist.” His lips curled into a sneer. “I’m sure you have the skills to ease her pain.”
The contempt in the chief’s voice clawed at Nick’s gut, and he knew he had to get out of there before he lost it and did something stupid. He strode to the door, but before opening it he turned back to face Carson again. The man’s triumphant look turned his stomach. “Chief, this is dead wrong and you know it. This isn’t about a card-counter. It’s about me.”
“You heard your orders, Saxon. Now, let’s see if you have the balls to carry them out.”
Asshole. “Just watch me, Chief.”
* * *
Sunlight poured into the room through the wide open drapes, dragging Sadie out of a mind-numbing sleep. Gingerly, she pushed herself up on the pillows, groaning as her temples pounded out a sickening rhythm. Flopping back down, she started to massage her head with the tips of all ten fingers.
Forgot to close the stupid drapes when I went to bed last night.
At least she’d managed to get out of her dress and under the covers. She was quite sure that had been no mean accomplishment, since she had only the dimmest recollection of having entered her room, much less undressing herself down to her panties.
With a gasp of horror, she sprang back up to the sitting position as her mind began to focus. The sheriff had brought her back to her room. Correction. He had carried her back to her room when she all but passed out in his arms. What in God’s name had happened to her? Yes, she’d imbibed three or four mojitos, but spread out over several hours. How had she managed to get so drunk? It didn’t make any sense.
She groaned, dropping her aching head into her hands. What an idiot she’d been to go up to Tiny’s suite. She knew better than that—she knew how jerks like Kev looked at drunken, naive women. That woman last night wasn’t her. Sadie Bligh didn’t do stupid things. Didn’t take those kinds of crazy risks. What in heaven’s name had happened to her?
The Eagleton Prize. That’s what had happened to her. Or not happened, actually. She had let that crushing disappointment turn into a crippling doubt that had shaken the very foundations of her life. Factor in all the temptations thrown her way in Vegas, and it was a recipe for disaster. The point wasn’t how her father or her colleagues would feel about her behavior. It was how she should feel.
Grimly, Sadie acknowledged that it was time to pull her life back on track, starting with figuring out what she wanted that life to be.
She threw off the duvet and planted her feet on the floor. Her head hurt like the devil, but at least it wasn’t spinning anymore. A couple of cups of coffee and a handful of Advil should put her to rights. She reached for the phone to call room service, but it rang before she could pick it up.
Cassie?
Not Cassie. Nick.
“Sadie, I’m glad you’re awake, because I need to see you.” Nick’s clipped voice told her he was in full-blown sheriff mode. “As soon as possible.”
And no wonder he sounded like that. She’d made a first class fool of herself last night. The man probably didn’t want anything to do with her, despite that impossibly hot sex in the coffee room. Actually, that made what happened later seem even worse.
Sadie tried to ignore her skin-crawling embarrassment and forced a light tone. “And good morning to you, Sheriff. What transgression have I committed this time? I’m sure you must have a very long list after last night.”
She could practically hear him grinding his teeth.
“Sadie, I don’t want to have an argument with you over the phone. I really need to see you.”
“Nick, did you tuck me into bed last night?” she blurted out, surprising herself.
A long pause. “I guess you don’t remember much, do you?”
“Unfortunately, it’s all pretty vague.”
“You don’t remember basically passing out in my arms?”
“I do remember that, but not much else. It’s all so inexplicable. I didn’t even finish that last drink, but I remember feeling incredibly dizzy and sleepy by the time you came barging into Tiny’s suite.”
He gave an audible sigh. “Sadie, you were completely wrecked. What did you have to drink up there?”
She flashed her mind back to Kev handing her that giant mojito. “Less than one mojito, actually. The one they gave me was too big to finish.”
“Who gave you that drink? Was it the blond guy—the one who was all over you?”
The eagle-eyed sheriff hadn’t missed a thing. “Yes. He brought it to me.”
“You didn’t see it being mixed, did you?” It was more of a statement than a question.
Her mind went blank, then understanding flooded her in a nauseating rush. “No,” she gulped, forcing back the bile in her throat. “Do you think it was doctored?”
“You managed to tell me which glass you were drinking from, and just to be on the safe side, I had one of my men grab it. We sent it to the lab this morning. It’s more than possible that the guy dropped a roofie or a GHB in your drink, or any of dozens of other drugs. If the tests come back positive, we’ll go to the police. If you want to swear a complaint, that is.”
It was too upsetting to even think about such a decision right now. She could barely get her head around what might have happened if Nick hadn’t burst into the room. “We’ll see,” she managed. “Anyway, thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know what else to say.”
“Just don’t put yourself in a situation like that again, Sadie. You almost gave me a heart attack,” he said in a tight voice.
A complex mix of guilt, tenderness and who knew what else clogged her throat. “Don’t worry. I won’t. I’m not normally this careless of my safety, Nick. Really.”
“Vegas has a way of messing up even the smartest people,” he said in a gentle voice. “I guess that’s why they call it Sin City. So, don’t get too down on yourself.”
The knot of tension in her stomach began to unravel, but then his voice turned cool and professional once more. “Sadie, can we get together this morning? Like I said, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
And I’m not going to like what I hear. “I suppose I could be talked into breakfast. But you’ll need to give me at least half an hour. As you can imagine, I’m still a bit of a wreck.”
“Fine. It’s nice out, so how about we meet at The Terraces in forty-five minutes?”
“Sounds lovely. Just make sure you have a big pot of coffee ready.” She replaced the handset, her hazy brain trying to analyze the possible reasons why Nick had been insistent on a meeting. She didn’t like a single one of them. He’d sounded so official, so quintessentially Sheriff. Whatever he was planning to say to her, she would have wagered all her blackjack winnings that her Vegas fling was about to go from bad to worse.
And that was really saying something.
* * *
Death warmed over.
It was a trite expression, but Sadie couldn’t think of a better phrase to describe how she had appeared in the bathroom mirror half an hour ago. She never did well when her hours of sleep numbered fewer than the fingers on one hand. The hot shower and a liberal application of makeup had helped, but she suspected that when Nick saw her his hair would stand up in spikes. At least she could wear the trendy new sunglasses she bought the other day to hide her blood-shot eyes. Along with pink shorts, a sleeveless white tank top and pink Crocs flip-flops, she hoped she might at least pass for somewhat cute and breezy.
If Nick’s tone of voice over the phone was any indication, she had a hunch she would need all the help she could get to make it through this meeting without it turning into another disaster.
The main entrance to The Terraces was on the hotel’s third floor. The inside-outside restaurant descended in three outdoor terraces to ground level, as if carved into a hillside. Nick, seated at a second level table, spotted her and waved as soon as she reached the hostess station. From fifty feet away, she could read his grim expression clearly. The tight-lipped smile didn’t reach his narrowed eyes.
He’s going to tell me it’s over between us. It’s been fun, Sadie girl, but your time’s up. Your little Vegas fantasy is over.
The least she could do was endure the dismissal with dignity.
Fixing a smile on her face, Sadie wended her way to his table. Nick stood and pulled out a chair for her, seating her directly across from him. A patio umbrella shaded her from the morning sun—annoying, since it meant she lacked a good reason to keep her sunglasses on. Still, she made no move to take them off.
He filled her cup from the coffee carafe. “You must still be bone-tired. If there was a drug in that drink, it’ll take time to get it completely out of your system.”
She dumped cream in her coffee and stirred it with vigor. “I won’t pretend I’m not a wee bit exhausted, but I suppose I managed more sleep than you did since you both put me to bed and woke me up.”
“I learned to do without much sleep when I was stuck in places where a rocket or a grenade might land on my head any second.”
Holding the cup with both hands, she took a careful sip of the hot coffee. “A small benefit of armed hostilities, I suppose. But they say almost all truly successful people sleep very little.”
Oh, God. Did she have to pick this very moment to babble some inane chit-chat? She couldn’t remember feeling more uncomfortable, and Nick looked the same.
He clasped his hands on the table in front of him and leaned forward, knitting his dark brows. Her heart clutched. For an instant, she saw Professor Anthony Bligh sitting across from her. Her father used the same body language when he was on the verge of scolding her, or insisting that she do or not do something.
“Sadie, I won’t beat around the bush. You know I’ve got something to say. Waiting any longer will just make it all the harder.”
She forced a laugh, even though her stomach had torqued into a brutal knot. “You make it sound like I should take a shot of brandy first. Or bite down on a stick.”
Nick showed no reaction to her feeble parry. “Casino security has reached a formal determination that you’ve been counting cards at blackjack. I’m sure you know that card counting isn’t illegal, but it does make you subject to immediate expulsion and blacklisting. I’m afraid you’re required to check out of the hotel immediately. And you won’t be allowed to play in any other casinos in Las Vegas. Or anywhere else in the country, for that matter. Ever.” His mouth was a grim, unhappy line. “I’m sorry. I wish I had better news for you.”
She clattered her cup down onto the saucer with trembling hands. This was the last thing she’d expected from him, and it shocked her to the core. Nausea swamped her in a wave and crawled up her throat. She desperately forced it down, determined not to make a fool of herself in public. She’d done that enough already.
After a few moments of silent struggle, her pride reasserted itself. Shaken or not, nauseated or not, she wouldn’t let him see how badly he’d wounded her. She’d done nothing wrong—at least at the blackjack table—and he knew it, too. She could tell by the look on his face. “Well, I have to say this gives new definition to the word arbitrary. If I understand you correctly, I’ve been convicted without trial and summarily evicted from the premises. No presentation of evidence, no hearing, and not the slightest attempt to afford me natural justice. Have I got that right, Sheriff?”
Nick shook his head. “That’s not the way it works here, Sadie. You know this isn’t a legal matter. Casinos are private businesses, and they have every right to make up their own rules and enforce them.”
Everything Nick said was true, but that didn’t make it right or fair. And it didn’t make it hurt any less by virtue of it coming from his mouth. Why did it have to be him who delivered her sentence? If the Desert Oasis had to impose the ultimate penalty, why did he have to act as the executioner? It felt terribly wrong.
Bleakly, she wondered if he had even tried to protect her. “Let me ask you this. In this little travesty of justice, were you the prosecutor, judge and jury, or are you merely the designated hangman?” She let her hurt and contempt flow out freely.
Nick hesitated, his jaw so rigid she thought it might crack the next time he moved his mouth. There was no trace of the warmth she had seen in his eyes and felt on his lips last night in the coffee room. If anything, she thought his face betrayed guilt.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, Sadie, but I think you have the right to know. The chief of security is the one who made the call.”
At least it wasn’t Nick, but it didn’t make her feel much better. Not given how he was treating her. “How nice that I merited the head man’s attention. But why then did he send one of his underlings to do the dirty work?”
A cheap shot, maybe, but she couldn’t hold back her bitterness.
He ignored the question, no doubt recognizing the pain behind the words. “Carson refused to accept my recommendation. I’m sorry.”
She sat there, waiting for him to say more—say anything that would make this horrible blow hurt less. But Nick kept his mouth firmly shut, his expression shuttered.
Frustrated, she finally broke the silence. “So, that’s all there is, then? I’m sorry, and sayonara, Sadie?”
“What do you want me to say?” he shot back, his face coming to life with frustration. “That it sucks? Yeah, damn right it does. But there’s nothing either of us can do about it, so we’d better just get on with our lives. Can we just try to do that?”
“Get on with our lives?” She kept her voice low and cold. “I’
m going to get on with life, you can be sure of that. And I’m going to start by hunting down your chief of security and letting him know precisely how I view his Gestapo tactics.”
He shook his head again, muttering under his breath.
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not harboring any illusions that I could change the blockhead’s mind. But sometimes the attempt is even more important than the outcome, isn’t it?” Sadie leaned forward to lock her gaze on his. “Maybe you should join me, Nick. You fought against injustice all over the world, didn’t you? I know my situation is just chump change compared to what you used to do, but there are principles at stake here, and one of those principles is standing up to bullies like your boss. Are you really just going to roll over and take this?”
His eyes widened, and he paled under the bronze of his tan. But he didn’t say a word. He simply stared at her, looking more pissed off by the second until he shifted his gaze away. She waited him out, praying he would say the right words, praying he would make some kind of attempt to defend her.
Finally, he grimaced. “If I did that, it would cost me my job.”
She paused, caught off guard by his admission. She easily understood the risk, but how could he stand working under the thumb of a scheming, tyrannical man who made his life miserable? He’d told her how much he hated working for Carson. There was no way a man like Nick Saxon should be chained down to a job like the one he had.
“Yes, I expect it would,” she said, gentling her voice. “But not fighting back will cost you your pride. And maybe that’s even worse.”
He snorted. “That’s damn easy for you to say, Professor, all cozy and coddled in your tenured faculty position. Let me turn the tables on you. Could you give all that security up?” His icy voice startled her. She’d wounded his pride, and he’d lashed back hard.
“A rather sharp but well-taken point,” she said, trying not to feel defensive. The last thing she wanted to think about right now was her own job. “Give me a couple of moments to think about that while you refill my coffee.”
He poured her a full cup, then refilled his own. “Thanks,” she said, stirring in cream as she tried to give his question a fair assessment. A few days ago, even given how upset she was about the Eagleton Prize, her answer would have been an unequivocal no. But now? Would she be willing to give up her position at the university and everything she enjoyed there merely for the sake of a principle?
