by Joanna Rees
Lois Chan started to look uncomfortable, as if she knew she should know Savvy from somewhere.
‘Why’s that, do you think?’ Savvy asked innocently, staring up at the flashing numbers that showed the floors they were passing.
‘Well . . . you know what they say about La Paris?’
‘No?’ Savvy said. ‘What?’
‘It’s just . . . well,’ she said, ‘they’re uptight over there. A money machine. Nothing but a bank with flashing lights.’ Lois smiled wryly. ‘As everyone here always says, they’ve got no Vegas heart.’
As the elevator continued to drop, it became apparent they were nearing the arena. Even through the elevator shaft, you could hear and feel the thump of bass.
‘Vegas heart,’ Marcus said. ‘Sounds like we found it.’
‘Just head right and you’ll hit the stalls,’ Lois advised, raising her voice over the loud rock music as the elevator stopped and the door slid open. Her eyes locked with Savvy’s. ‘Well, nice to meet you,’ she said. ‘Have a great time.’
But it wasn’t enough. Savvy knew that it was foolish to name-drop, but she’d had enough of Lois Chan dissing her father’s business and treating her like a nobody too.
‘Thanks for your insight,’ she said. ‘Very interesting. Especially concerning Jai Shijai. My father’s team at La Paris will be very enlightened to know how things run around here.’
Failing to stifle a laugh, Marcus stepped out of the elevator into the corridor leading to the stalls. The crowd in the arena beyond were already going crazy. Lois Chan suddenly put her arm across the elevator doors, blocking them from closing and preventing Savvy from following Marcus out.
‘Excuse me? Your father? I don’t quite understand . . .’ Lois said to Savvy.
‘Oh, didn’t you know?’ Savvy said pointedly. ‘I’m Savannah Hudson. I thought everyone knew that.’
CHAPTER FOUR
What the . . . ?
Lois Chan gawped after Savannah Hudson as she sashayed away into the crowd, linking arms with her companion.
How dare she! Who the hell did she think she was? The jumped-up little madam . . .
Lois growled with frustration, furious that she’d screwed up. Because she didn’t have a leg to stand on. She should have recognized Miss Hudson straight away. And she should never have discussed a client with a stranger – especially not one as important as Jai Shijai.
But it wasn’t just her who’d enabled Savannah Hudson to execute such a whopping snub. What had Tristan been playing at? He really should have known who Savannah Hudson was. Marketing. Publicity. Famous goddamn faces. That was his job. He’d even walked her up here past the hub.
Lois was going to give Tristan Blake a dressing-down he’d never forget.
‘Jesus,’ she said out loud, shaking her head as she muscled her way against the flow of the crowd towards the main entrance.
Savannah Hudson . . . Now that Lois had been provided with the name, her brain was busy stacking up further information. Like the fact that Savannah was the bad apple of the Hudson twins. A spoilt little rich girl who was always getting in trouble in the press. Or shaming her family, as Lois’s own mother would have more unkindly put it.
All of which meant that maybe there was nothing to worry about at all. Maybe Savannah Hudson was just here to have a good time. Just doing her bad-girl act for her bad-boy boyfriend. From the look of her eyes, she’d clearly been wired. With any luck, she might not even remember any of that stuff about Jai Shijai by the time the cold light of dawn swung round.
In fact, Lois was almost tempted to call the PR guys right away and tell them to make a photo op out of Savannah Hudson being here. Frame it as an endorsement of sorts. ‘La Paris no longer good enough, even for its owner’s daughter’ had a good ring to it. Yeah, Lois would pay to see the look on Savannah’s face as her father bawled her out about that.
Forget Savvy Hudson, Lois told herself. She didn’t have time to worry about her right now. Right now, she had to get out front and deal with Senator Fernandez.
Lois finally made it out through the casino entrance to the drop-off bay where the limos pulled up. It was jammed out here too, with press and punters jostling for space, but eventually she reached Bobby’s side.
‘Just in time,’ Bobby told her in his deep gravelly voice, as a large black SUV with tinted windows pulled up. ‘Here comes the bride himself.’
Lois followed Bobby’s gaze to the car. Two men stepped out of the passenger doors of the vehicle, expressionlessly scanning the cordoned crowd of press opposite. Another, older man stepped out. The same as his two burly colleagues, the tell-tale wire of a comms piece trailed from his ear to his starched white collar. Secret Service. Beyond a doubt.
A fourth man emerged now, towering above the other three. He seemed unfazed as the crowd erupted and the reporters shouted out questions. He smiled and waved, completely in his element. He could have been a movie icon or a pop star, such was the aura around him. But he was neither. He was the junior senator for the state of California, Josh Fernandez himself.
Of course Lois had seen him on TV, but she hadn’t expected his presence to be so disarming. He was in his late forties, but he looked much younger. His large, honest brown eyes glowed with vitality and energy. His dark skin was smooth and flawless. Lois was shocked by quite how handsome he was up close.
His clothes belied his star status. He’d dressed down for tonight in jeans, a white shirt and a classic-cut moleskin jacket. He looked approachable and normal – but then that was what he was selling himself as: a man of the people.
Lois had read all about his humble, disenfranchised upbringing and how he’d fought for every step of his education. A fact that had served only to reinforce his notoriously razor-sharp intellect. And it was that, combined with a prodigious talent for public speaking, which had, many commentators were saying, put him on course to be a potential presidential candidate.
He certainly had the balls to do it if he had the nerve to show up here, Lois thought. On tonight of all nights. Fight Night in Vegas. Where the whole industry would be. The self-same industry that the senator’s new legislation was about to pound against the ropes. By taxing the hell out of it and channelling the money raised into federal social projects.
Lois took a deep breath and went forward to introduce herself.
‘Mike Hannan,’ the older of the security guys said, stepping towards her. He’d obviously done his homework and knew exactly who Lois was. ‘We spoke on the phone.’
She’d been expecting a hyped-up know-it-all security type from their brief conversation a week ago, but here in the flesh Mike Hannan was the opposite of how she’d imagined. He was in his fifties, with white hair cropped close to his head, and a slightly stooped way of standing that made him look sweet and bashful. Like someone’s dad rather than a Secret Service honcho.
His two colleagues were now standing either side of the senator, back a little way from him, by the trunk of the limo. There was something ridiculous about the way they tried to seem inconspicuous, whilst their eyes raked over the assembled crowd.
‘Agents March and Ransom,’ Hannan said. ‘They’ll accompany the senator into the arena.’
‘I’ve organized seating,’ Lois confirmed. She’d been meaning to make an issue of it. Finding three extra ringside seats at short notice had been a nightmare.
But now she felt her gaze drawn to Fernandez, as he turned to face her.
‘Hi,’ he said, holding out his hand. His voice was warm and smooth. Lois felt a deep flush start inside her, as his hand folded around hers.
‘I’m Lois Chan,’ she said, her voice catching.
‘Lois,’ Fernandez said, as if tasting her name and deciding he liked it. ‘So you’re the eyes-in-the-sky, right?’ He held eye contact with her for a moment longer than was necessary.
‘Yes, I’m in charge of you – I mean security. Here. Tonight,’ she said, thrown by the sudden cloak of intimacy he’d somehow managed to
cast over them, in spite of the surrounding crowd. She tried to speak. To say something else. Something intelligent. Welcome him to Enzo Vegas. Give him the Vegas patter. But the familiar words wouldn’t come. Instead, she felt powerless to do anything other than stare right back at him, and for a second it seemed as if the whole crowd had melted away and it was just her and him. He had the most amazingly mesmeric eyes.
‘I’ll take you to your seats,’ she said.
‘No, that’s not the plan,’ Hannan said. ‘You stay with me. I’m tech-side, not ringside tonight. I’m going to be riding shotgun with you up in your surveillance centre, if that’s OK. I always like to see how a spider runs her web . . .’
He said it like Lois had a choice. Which, of course, she didn’t. Again, she felt annoyed he’d not notified her about his intentions before. But then again, she considered, maybe this was just how security was at the national level. Ever-changing. On the run. Just like her life had been as a cop. She took a deep breath, concluding that she had no option but to bring herself up to speed.
‘No problem at all,’ she said. ‘My colleague Bobby King will take the senator and his bodyguards through to the arena.’
She waved Bobby over and introduced him to Hannan, who then hurried over to the senator and discreetly beckoned him away.
‘Nice to see you all. And I hope you all have a great Fight Night,’ Fernandez told the reporters, flashing them a final photogenic smile, before turning away with a polite wave as their relentless barrage of questions continued.
Lois felt a rush of unexpected disappointment pass through her, as Bobby led the senator and his two bodyguards away, scything quickly and professionally through the crowd and into the casino.
She’d been hoping to speak to the senator some more, she now realized. Maybe share with him that she’d grown up in San Francisco too. Now that he’d gone, she couldn’t shake her childish wish for him to turn round. Or at least throw her a backward glance, just to show he still knew she was there.
‘He’s quite something, huh?’ Hannan said, as if reading her thoughts.
‘He sure is,’ Lois answered as the senator disappeared from sight, before turning back to face the Secret Service agent and reminding herself she had a job to do. ‘The elevator is just this way. We’re on the fourth floor.’
‘No, no. Take me by the stairs, I hate those damn things,’ Mike said.
As Mike Hannan walked purposefully to the main stairs with Lois, she was suddenly desperate to grill him about the death threats to Fernandez. Now that she’d met the senator in the flesh and been charmed by him, it seemed even more horrendous that someone wanted him dead. She couldn’t help turning it over and over in her mind. It seemed impossible to contemplate. Fernandez was so . . . alive. So incredibly vital and forceful.
But Mike wasn’t being drawn on whether he had any potential leads. Unsurprisingly, she supposed. Secret Service probably never answered anything specifically. But he did let his feelings be known.
‘I tried to persuade him out of coming here tonight. It’s not as if he’s a boxing fan,’ Mike explained. ‘On top of which, my wife’s upset because I’m missing our anniversary.’
Lois smiled. ‘You’re married?’
Mike stopped for a moment. ‘Yep, twenty-five years. Jeanie is the love of my life,’ he said.
Lois didn’t know how to react. The words had been said with such honesty, so clearly from the heart.
‘So why did Fernandez come tonight?’ Lois asked, moving the conversation on. ‘Just to show who’s boss?’
‘Pretty much, I guess. Between you and me, he’s a stubborn so-and-so,’ Mike said, although his tone was affectionate. ‘And he’s certainly not going to let a little thing like a death threat put him off. But I’ll level with you, Lois. Fernandez being here at the fight is just about my worst nightmare.’
Lois remembered ranting to Mario that she didn’t want some jumped-up Secret Service guy snooping around her hub telling her how to do her job. But now that Mike was here, she saw that he was only trying to do his job, too.
It was her turn to sound reassuring.
‘Don’t worry. Safety is our priority. There are twelve CCTV cameras in the arena itself and the exits are covered too.’
She pushed open the swing doors into the corridor leading to the hub.
‘To tell the truth, I just want to get this over with and get back home,’ Mike confided. ‘My son’s in the Marines and he’s on leave today.’ He smiled at Lois. ‘You got kids?’
‘A daughter.’ They reached the door of the hub and she buzzed it open. ‘She’s eight.’
Mike nodded. ‘Then you’ll know what I mean.’
Lois wondered why it had been so easy to tell him about Cara, when most people she worked with here didn’t even know that she was a mother, let alone any personal details about Cara. But that was just habit. Self protection. If she didn’t mention that her daughter lived with her ex-husband Chris and his new wife in Washington, then it might stop hurting so much that her baby had been taken from her and now lived thousands of miles away.
But she felt different telling Mike. Maybe because he was a parent too and his job was every inch as crazy as hers. Or maybe it was just easier telling someone who wouldn’t be here to judge her on it tomorrow.
Whichever, Lois soon found herself warming to him even more as she gave him a swift tour of the hub, and brought him up to speed on the various security protocols and surveillance systems they had in place.
She’d been half expecting him to challenge her authority. But he seemed to trust her and believe that she could do her job. And as she showed him the screens and led him to where Mario was sitting at his workstation, she felt a sudden desire to impress him. There was no knowing where a contact like Mike Hannan might lead her in the future.
‘Hey, Lois,’ Mario said, standing up.
She quickly introduced Mike.
‘You following Fernandez, son?’ Mike said.
Lois noticed how comfortable Mike was in the hub, how unfazed by the set-up. He’d probably worked in a thousand places like this before.
Mario pressed the remote at the giant bank of screens. They filled with a picture of the crowded corridor leading towards the stalls of the arena. Lois saw Bobby pushing past the crowds to make a pathway for the senator.
And right then, Lois saw Fernandez look up at the cameras above the doorway. He smiled. ‘Hello, Lois,’ he mouthed.
Mike Hannan glanced over at Lois, who was busy fighting her smile away. ‘Looks like you’ve got yourself a fan,’ he said.
CHAPTER FIVE
In the arena, Savvy Hudson should have been having the time of her life, but all she could think was: How could I have been so dumb? No wonder Tristan Blake had shown them such special treatment. These were the best damned seats in the house. Why hadn’t she thought to check with Marcus where they were sitting?
She glanced around. A laser show of lights criss-crossed the auditorium as loud rock music pumped out, cranking up the electrifying atmosphere. Even Todd Lands was on the bank of seats behind her, for Christ’s sake. It was like a celebrity who’s who in here, and she’d just come out top.
And whilst on one level this was very cool, it also meant disaster on another. Because there were TV cameras everywhere. Anxiously, she looked overhead as a camera above her stretched out on a hydraulic arm above the ring, before swivelling back to face where she was standing.
Quickly, she looked away. And ducked.
Shit, she thought. The last thing she wanted was to be on TV. If anyone saw her . . . Oh God, if Hud saw her . . . Here. In Enzo Vegas. And with Marcus . . .
For all her bravado with Marcus earlier, she had to face facts. Another row with Hud would in all likelihood have disastrous consequences. He could cut her off. Deny her income. He’d threatened it before. And she had a hunch that this might just be the straw that broke the camel’s back.
She swiped Marcus’s baseball cap and pulled it down on
her head, only straightening up as the TV camera swung out of the way and pointed in a different direction.
Why had she opened her big mouth and told Lois Chan who she was? For all she knew, Lois could have tipped off the TV people. The press would have a field day with it. Even on a night as packed with celebrity gossip as tonight, there was always room for one more juicy morsel.
‘What d’you think?’ Marcus shouted at her.
‘It’s mad!’ she shouted back.
Oh yes, she thought, as a Mexican wave rippled round the arena. It was electric in here. She could feel the love all around. Enzo Vegas and boxing. Together like fist in glove.
What was it Lois Chan had said? Vegas heart. Yes, that was it. Vegas heart. She felt right in the middle of its thumping epicentre now.
Savvy reached into her bag for her cell phone and held it up above her head. She often got sent products or clothes to endorse, but this was her latest favourite. A brand new prototype of a phone that could take broadcast quality video.
She held it above her head and took a short burst of film of the boxing ring. She liked the idea of keeping movies on her phone. She’d always hated the thought of keeping a diary, but somehow keeping filmic evidence of her movements appealed. Excerpts from the movie of her life. Featuring her, as always, in the starring role.
A huddle of staff ushered a group of people down the aisle and into the row behind her, but she couldn’t see who it was, and she didn’t turn round again because the atmosphere had suddenly notched up another level as the MC stepped into the ring.
It was Johnny ‘JK’ Russell, the Fox Sports anchorman, dressed in a slick DJ and with a mike at his lips. Everyone was on their feet, cheering, the crowd almost drowning out his famous baritone as he announced the arrival of Cornelius ‘The Hammer’ Hamilton.
The crowd was plunged into darkness. Savvy let out a sigh of relief. The cameras were off her – for the time being at least.
Plumes of fireworks illuminated the pathway from the dugout. Rock music crashed out, louder than ever. This was sensational, Savvy thought, clapping and smiling. She was right here. Right in the thick of the action. Adrenalin pumped through her as the arena glittered with the popping of camera flashes.
