by Tamie Dearen
Stephanie glanced at the time—a quarter ‘til five. She needed to hurry. “Laurie will give you your breathing treatments, and you have to do them without complaining.”
“Do I have to?” she whined. “Can’t I skip one since you’re gonna be gone?”
“Nope, not even one. But if you’re good and don’t give Laurie a hard time, I’ll bring you a present from Las Vegas.”
“A Bridgette doll?”
Ellie had asked for the popular doll last Christmas, but Stephanie couldn’t spare that kind of money for something frivolous, especially with Ellie’s medical costs.
“Not a Bridgette doll, but something really cool. Something you can only get in Las Vegas.” Hopefully she’d be able to find something besides a pair of fuzzy pink dice. Maybe an autograph from an Elvis impersonator. Ellie loved to watch the old Elvis movies and sang his songs all the time. She rubbed Ellie’s head, ruffling her soft curls. “Now, go to bed. I’ll be back before you know it.”
As Ellie trudged back to her room, Steph attacked her bulging suitcase with vigor, sitting on it until she wrenched the zipper around the final bend. She was determined to pack every single item that had come in Thursday’s surprise delivery. Branson’s personal shopper arrived with a rack of clothes and shoes, all with designer labels. Her anxiety about blending in with his wealthy friends overcame her initial guilt about accepting the expensive clothes. In her excitement, she forgot to ask how he knew her sizes.
Relishing the feel of the flowing emerald green, silk blouse she’d paired with leggings and leather boots, she slipped on her new trench coat and hurried out, rolling her suitcase behind her. She navigated the maze of hallways to the rear entry room, where they were supposed to meet.
With only a solitary suitcase waiting beside the door, she breathed a sigh of relief. If Carina had beaten her here, she would’ve gained more ammunition for criticism, a pastime which seemed to provide her endless pleasure the past three days. Carina hadn’t even committed to making the trip to Vegas until she discovered Stephanie was going.
Outside, a driver stood next to a black Suburban, ready to transport them to the airfield. Steph debated whether to wait inside or out, but opted to park herself inside on the marble bench beside the suitcase, which undoubtedly belonged to Bran. No one else would’ve been awake early enough to have come and gone.
Nervous, she retrieved her laptop and started working her way through Bran’s latest business emails. More than twenty messages had arrived during the night, a common occurrence due to business connections across the Atlantic.
“Don’t you ever stop working?”
She startled at the voice by her shoulder. “Oh! You scared me, Mr. Anderson.”
“Better call me Finn, since you’re supposed to be my date for the weekend.” He winked then glanced behind him, like he’d forgotten their conversation might’ve been overheard.
“Don’t worry—she’s not here yet.” Steph stifled a yawn as she tucked her laptop away. “I honestly can’t believe Carina agreed to get up this early.”
Finn answered with a yawn of his own as he slumped onto the bench beside her. “I can’t believe I agreed.”
“I’m actually used to it. For the past two years, I’ve been waking up at five so I can get to work by six thirty. Honestly, I don’t mind, though. Most days, he lets me off at four, so I’m home by five and get more time with Ellie.
“Now that you live here, you’ll get to sleep in, right?”
“You know Bran better than that.” Steph rolled her eyes. “Since I don’t have to drive across town, he decided we could start work at 6:00 a.m.”
“Of course he did.” Finn shook his head. “How do you like the east wing? I bet the view of the rose garden almost makes up for the fact Carina’s nearby.”
“Carina banished us to the west wing. But we’re more than happy there. I don’t really want Ellie to come in contact with Carina, for a number of reasons.”
“I bet Branson was ticked when he heard about it.”
“I hope not. The west wing is still ten times better than where we lived before. I’m doing my best to be supportive, hoping I won’t lose my job when he gets married.”
“I’d hire you in an instant. You’re way more loyal than Bran deserves.”
Finn shifted and his hand came to rest on her knee. Steph went rigid and stared at it, as if it was a tarantula, waiting to bite her.
“Uhmm, Bran didn’t tell Carina we’d been going out, so we don’t have to be physical or anything.”
“I know. I came up with the idea to say we hit it off because I found out Ellie has CF. Still, I figure we should at least be at the handholding stage.”
She continued to stare at the offending hand on her knee. “That’s not my hand you’re holding.”
He snorted a laugh and removed his hand. “Am I that repulsive?”
“Do all you handsome billionaires fish for compliments?” she retorted, shaking her head. “I’m here to help Bran, and that’s all.”
“I’m not planning to jump your bones, Stephanie, but you’ll have a hard time convincing Carina we’re together when you’re that stiff around me.”
She groaned, knowing he was right. “I can do better. Give me a second.” With her eyes squeezed closed, she jutted her hand toward him and focused on relaxing.
“Seriously?”
She looked up to find his wide blue eyes crinkled with humor, her orphaned hand left hanging in the air. “What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to hold hands.”
“That expression you made—looked like you were about to swallow cough syrup.”
“It’s not my fault. I haven’t held hands since… Well, I don’t remember the last time I held hands with Jeff, and we split up five years ago.”
“You haven’t even been on a date since then?”
“I haven’t had the time. Or the energy. And Ellie’s constantly in the back of my mind. You get it, right?”
“Yeah, I do,” he whispered, sympathy glistening in his eyes as his arm went around her shoulder. This time his touch didn’t feel awkward, and she found herself leaning into him. An ache formed in her chest, and she realized how much she missed the comfort of a man’s embrace.
The rumble of wheeled luggage interrupted the moment, and they sprang apart.
“Well, well, well…” Carina’s sarcastic voice rent the tranquil air. “Seems the lovebirds are getting an early start.”
“Lovebirds?” Branson’s thick brows knitted over bright blue eyes that seemed to sear Steph’s skin. She couldn’t help feeling guilty, as if she’d somehow betrayed him.
“We had to do something to pass the time.” Finn met Carina’s sarcasm with an equal dose, his arm returning to Steph’s shoulder. “We’ve been waiting a while, since the two of you were late.”
“Only one of us was late,” Bran retorted, as Carina’s face reddened. “I was here early but, as I suspected, Carina overslept. If I hadn’t banged on her door, she’d still be in bed.”
“Like any reasonable person,” Carina snapped. “You didn’t even give me time to finish getting ready.” Her hand snaked up to her blond tresses, which were pulled back in a sleek ponytail instead of her normal, perfect array of beach waves. Stephanie thought she looked better—less artificial—but doubted Carina would appreciate hearing her opinion.
“We don’t have to go,” Bran growled. “In fact, let’s call the whole thing off. Finn can go by himself.”
“Fine by me,” Finn retorted, much to Stephanie’s surprise. Hadn’t he been the one who organized the whole trip in an effort to get Bran out into the world again? Finn stood, grabbing the handle of his bag and offering a hand to help Stephanie up. “Steph and I can take my jet. I’ll bring her back tomorrow.”
“No.” The blood vessels on Bran’s face bulged like his head was about to explode. “Stephanie and I have work to do.”
“You already promised she could go to Vegas with me,” said Finn, not bothering to
hide his grin. “So, if you want to get any work done, you’ll have to come along and do it on the plane.” His fingers gripped Steph’s elbow, propelling her, stumbling in confusion, toward the door.
“We’re going in my jet,” Branson pronounced, striding past them. Without pausing he spoke over his shoulder. “Carina, you can come if you want or stay here. It makes no difference to me.”
“Branson, wait.” She trotted after him, dragging her huge rolling suitcase behind her. “I’m coming.”
Finn whispered in Steph’s ear, “Have you ever noticed Carina talks through her nose?”
Steph muffled a laugh with her hand. “No. But it’s going to drive me crazy now that you’ve mentioned it.”
Stephanie hardly had time to enjoy the experience of flying on a private jet, since Branson kept her so busy working. At first Carina flirted with Finn, laughing loudly and complimenting everything from his accent to his muscles. When Bran not only didn’t respond with jealousy, but appeared not to notice, Carina flounced over to a seat in the back and sulked. Once Carina abandoned her efforts, Finn reclined his chair and went to sleep.
“Bran?” Steph spoke in a lowered tone, glancing over her shoulder at Carina, whose slack mouth produced soft snores.
“Yes?” He took off his headphones.
“I’ve never been to Vegas. I don’t even know what to do. So, I’m thinking, since I won’t fit in anyway, I might just watch from the side.”
“No worries.” He waved his hand. “It’s a high-roller, charity event. Each participant pays a ridiculous entry fee that comes with a certain number of dollar credits. Yours is already paid. Everyone plays games anywhere on the floor until their credits are gone.”
“All the money goes to charity?”
“Not hardly,” he scoffed. “But a percentage does. At the end of the night, whoever has the most money is declared the winner, and a million goes to the charity of their choice.”
“You’ve done this before, I guess. Have you ever won?”
“I did, once. But Finn’s won multiple times. He’s the king of blackjack. But the big money comes from the craps table. Everyone will be there by the end of the night.”
“Maybe you should try to get your entry fee back for me, since I can’t play. I’ll be staying with you to calm your nerves. Isn’t that the whole reason I came?”
He tilted his head closer, though Carina was too far away to hear, even if she’d been conscious. “Yes, it is. But I only need you for the first hour or so. I plan to lose my money early and escape to my room. Then you’ll be free to try your hand at anything you choose.”
“I don’t think that’s gonna make Finn very happy.” She glanced at Finn, his feet propped up and a cap pulled down over his eyes. Something told her he wouldn’t let Branson get away that easily.
“Maybe…” Bran drummed his fingers on his legs, twisting his mouth to the side. “I expect Finn’ll be having too much fun with Cole and Jarrett to care if I slip away early. It’s enough that I came. They won’t be expecting me to be with them the entire time.”
“Ah. That’s a good thing. Carina will be less suspicious if I spend most of my time hanging out with Finn and the guys instead of you.”
His fingers froze. “Yeah. About that.” He shifted in his seat like he had a sudden knot in his back. “You don’t have to spend the whole time with Finn after I’m gone. Carina can’t be jealous when I’m not around. You can play any game you like—slots, roulette, poker, craps, whatever.
“Oh, I don’t mind being with Finn. He’s actually fun.”
“Great.” Bran’s lips stretched into a weird, flat smile. “I’m glad you like him.”
The jet landed, and a stretch limo picked them up, whisking them off toward the heart of Las Vegas. Steph had seen the strip on TV, but never in person.
“Wow,” she remarked to no one in particular. “I can’t believe there are so many people on the streets on a Saturday morning. I would’ve thought they’d all be in bed, sleeping off a Friday night hangover.
“They are,” Finn confirmed. “Tonight, there will be twice this many people.”
“You’ve honestly never been to Vegas before?” Carina’s question might’ve been a polite inquiry, had her tone not been dripping with disdain.
“I’ve never had a desire to go.” Stephanie lifted her chin. “I don’t gamble. But the hotels are pretty amazing.”
“The shows are spectacular,” said Carina. “Too bad you won’t get to see any. Bran doesn’t like them, of course.”
“I don’t mind if I don’t see a show on this trip,” Steph hurried to assert. “Maybe some other time.”
“I can take you to see a play in New York, instead.” Finn’s hand slipped over to rest on her knee. “How about weekend after next?”
Steph fumbled for a polite response. “I… uh… I guess it depends if I can get enough time off.”
“We should go today,” Bran blurted out. “We could hit a matinee. There’s plenty of time. Our tournament doesn’t start until seven p.m.” Three sets of eyes stared at him in surprise. “What?” he asked, into the awkward silence.
“You told me you hate going to shows.” Carina narrowed her eyes, her hands balled into tight fists.
“He does hate them.” Finn clicked his tongue in disapproval. “He’s probably planning to send the rest of us to a show and hide out in his room. It won’t work, Bran.”
“I wasn’t planning to hide out,” Bran objected, looking miserable.
Steph’s heart clenched in her chest, seeing Bran so out of his comfort zone. She knew he probably wanted to be able to sit and listen to someone sing for a few hours, rather than have hundreds of voices in his ears, coming from every direction. She hadn’t been to a casino, but she knew from television they were noisy and distracting. Bran didn’t know, but she’d brought something special along, a surprise she hoped would make the whole experience better.
“I think it’s an awesome idea.” Steph shook her finger in Finn’s face. “You have no business giving Bran a hard time. He heard his fiancée wanted to see a show and decided to take her. What’s wrong with that? Aren’t there some famous singers who perform in Vegas? Bran could enjoy that as much as any of us.”
“Fine.” Finn pulled out his cell. “I’ll text Jarrett and tell him to get us six tickets to a matinee.”
Stephanie wasn’t sure what was going on. Instead of a repentant expression, Finn looked so smug she wanted to slap him. If he keeps this up, I might do it.
Chapter 7
The limousine pulled to a stop, and the door flung open. “Welcome to the Grand Laurencia, where good times are had by all,” said an irritatingly jovial hotel employee.
As everyone piled out of the limo, Bran stayed behind, trying to slow his racing heart. He felt someone slide beside him on the seat.
“You don’t fool me,” Finn said. “Not in the slightest.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Bran found his cane and checked to be sure his sunglasses were sitting straight on his nose.
“We’ve come out here together at least twenty times, and you refused to go to a single show. Not even when we got complimentary front row tickets to hear Donovan Ray sing.”
“So what?” Bran scooted toward the exit, but a hand on his shoulder held him back.
“So, isn’t it funny that you suddenly insist on squeezing in a show right after I invited Stephanie to New York. And don’t try to tell me this has anything to do with Carina.”
“You’re trying to steal the best PA I’ve ever had.” Bran gripped his cane so hard his hand hurt.
“I was only asking her on a date, not stealing her.”
“Same difference,” Bran shook off his grasp and climbed outside, but Finn caught him and spoke in his ear.
“Weren’t you the one who said I should start dating?”
“Not Stephanie,” Bran mumbled from the side of his mouth. “So, back off.”
“I’ll be happy to back off,
” said Finn, “as soon as you admit you’re in love with Stephanie.”
“I’m not in love with her.” He didn’t love Stephanie. He needed her. Like his body needed air and water. He couldn’t survive without her. Finn would never understand the difference.
“Just tell her you love her and see what she says. What’s the worst that could happen?”
He didn’t want to dream about something that could never happen. “It won’t work. We’ve been over this. I’m marrying Carina. End of story.”
Bran grabbed the elbow Finn bumped against him and walked beside him. His cane found the curb, and as he stepped up, Finn whispered in his ear, “Okay. But if you’re not in love with her, she’s fair game.”
Before Bran could blast him with a furious retort, Finn was gone.
“Bran! You made it.” Cole wrapped him in a hug, and Bran squirmed, trying to get away. Cole laughed. “Nobody thinks it’s weird for me to hug you, Bran. No one’s even paying attention.”
“You know I don’t do hugs. Has nothing to do with what anyone thinks.”
Nevertheless, the arm remained around his shoulder, ushering him through the doorway onto the plush carpet. Inside, Bran’s heart rate kicked up another notch, as the noises of the casino in the back mixed with voices from every direction. Why did I agree to come? I can’t do this.
“Hi, Cole.” Stephanie’s voice came from his left, and he felt her arm wrap around his. “I’m going to steal Mr. Knight away for a minute. One of his managers has a crisis situation. You know how it is.” She tugged Branson to the side. “They’ve already checked us in, so we can go straight to the elevator. But I have a present for you.” She slid something into his hand.
“What’s this?” He probed the small plastic piece.
“It’s my dictation earpiece. I’ve got the microphone attached to my scarf—a beautiful designer scarf, thanks to you. And the transmitter is in my new purse, which, by the way, is worth more than one of the smaller states.”
