Vanilla and Vice (Empire Sevens Book 1)

by Tabatha Vargo

  9

  EDEN

  “I THINK MAYBE this week we’ll go buy some new towels and stuff,” Aunt Kennedy said while we sat at a red light waiting to turn left.

  I didn’t want to tell her there was no need to buy more of anything for my sake. I hadn’t told her yet that I didn’t plan on staying with her long.

  While I appreciated Aunt Kennedy letting me stay with her, I could tell she was used to living alone. She only had enough towels for one person. That was also true for dishes and everything else a person needed in their home to survive.

  It didn’t seem to bother her that I was there. In fact, she seemed excited to have another person in her home, but I was actually looking forward to being on my own for a change. I had spent my entire life under my mom’s roof, and I was ready to take that next step to adulthood. Which meant I needed to get my own place.

  It didn’t matter what kind of place it was as long as it was affordable and it was mine. I took every shift available during my first two weeks at Empire and picked up extras when someone called in. I spent more time working than anything else. I would eat when I could and sleep when time and my body allowed, but mostly, I earned as much money as I could, waiting until the moment I could thank Aunt Kennedy and afford a deposit on something of my own.

  The following night, I worked a double, throwing myself into the job and making Aunt Kennedy proud.

  She had even made the comment that I was one of the fastest learning new hires she had ever had.

  Working a lot also meant I made new friends with my co-workers. Jena, one of the bartenders, and I became fast friends. She was my total opposite.

  Dark to my light.

  Tall to my short.

  Her makeup was dark and perfect. Meanwhile, I had attempted a tiny bit of clear lip gloss. She wore her uniform two sizes too small, and her skirt, which came to my knees, was short enough to show her black garters.

  She looked mean and sexy, but she was quite possibly the sweetest person I had ever met.

  “You’re up, Eden!” she called from across the floor.

  I moved to the bar with my tray ready to pick up for table two in the VIP section. The gentleman at that table had ordered a massive selection of drinks that were going to weigh my tray down, but I felt confident I could do it.

  I set my tray on the bar and began loading it, and as I did so, I could feel his hot stare on my back.

  He was always there.

  Watching me as if he was waiting for something.

  Zander Hale.

  I steered clear of him as much as possible just like Kade and Aunt Kennedy had suggested, but it never seemed to be enough. Honestly, I had hoped I would never see him again after he had been so rude to me at our first meeting, but sadly, that was next to impossible since he owned the casino.

  He was everywhere, lurking in the corners. His brooding eyes leaving a scorching path all over my body from across the room. He made me feel nervous and inept as if I was doing everything wrong or seconds away from making a mistake. I worried that having his eyes on me would screw me up somehow until finally, it did.

  After loading my tray, I made my way across the bar, holding the heavy weight of the drinks with all five fingertips.

  It was a busy night, and everyone was hustling to keep the customers happy. I had gotten the feel of the bar space, memorizing the step up VIP areas and then making sure I didn’t actually trip over the steps.

  I looked over as I was taking my tray to table two, and when I did, my eyes connected with Zander’s. The side of his sinful mouth lifted into a grin and seeing his smile made me completely forgot about the step down just before table two.

  I missed the step, and the most embarrassing thing ever happened.

  I tripped over my flip-flops. Honestly, they weren’t the best thing to wait tables in, but it was all I had. I had never been more relieved than the moment when Kennedy didn’t mention required footwear for work. Most of the girls wore heels, but none of them matched in a uniformed way. Luckily, I didn’t even think she noticed that I wore my flip-flops everywhere.

  They weren’t even cute flip-flops and had long popped, but I had taken the time to tape them back, using the black duct tape so no one noticed.

  I had plenty of money in tips to get myself a new pair of shoes, and at some point, when I wasn’t working, I would make the time to pick up something more appropriate. Until then, though, it was old, taped flip-flops.

  Unfortunately, the duct tape wasn’t as strong as I had hoped, and the strap to my right flip-flop popped yet again as I stumbled over the step. As hard as I tried to keep my tray in the air and the drinks from spilling, I failed.

  Drinks flew everywhere. Expensive vodka splashed all over the floor and right into the lap of the man I was bringing the drinks to.

  He stood and pulled at his expensive shirt as his face turned two shades of red.

  “You little idiot!” he yelled. “How fucking smart do you have to be to serve drinks? And you can’t even do that!”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but my voice got trapped in the back of my throat as tears rushed to my eyes.

  “Say something, you little twit! The least you could do is apologize!”

  “I’m so s-s-sorry,” I stuttered. “Please,” I said, pulling a clean hand towel from my back pocket. “Let me clean you up.”

  “Don’t you fucking touch me,” he snapped. “Obviously, you’re a major fuckup. The last thing I need is for you to ruin something else on me.”

  I tried to hold my tears back, but they disobeyed me, rushing over my bottom lashes and splashing across my cheeks. I pulled my arm back, towel in hand, and readied myself to flee, but before I could, Zander’s dark and menacing voice stopped me.

  “I think that’s enough, Romano,” he said, his voice sinister.

  The man Zander called Romano continued. “Look at this, Hale, she fucked up my best shirt.”

  “I wouldn’t go around telling people that’s your best shirt, Romano. Especially since it’s the ugliest fucking shirt I’ve ever seen. Now, apologize to my waitress.”

  Romano’s face paled, and I sucked in a shocked breath. I hadn’t expected that at all. If anything, I expected Zander Hale to rip me a new one for messing up and spilling his expensive liquor.

  What I hadn’t expected was for him to defend me.

  “Excuse me?” Romano asked. “You want me to apologize to her? She’s the one who tripped over her own fucking feet. She’s the one who spilled drinks all over me.”

  “What she did was an accident, and if I heard correctly, she apologized to you already. You, on the other hand, have no right to speak to another human being, let alone one of my girls, the way you just spoke to her. You can apologize to the lady, and then you can leave my establishment.”

  “You’re out of your fucking mind, Hale, if you think—”

  He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Zander had moved past me as quick as lightning and was towering over the shorter man. His emerald eyes glowed as he breathed down at Romano like a dragon ready to attack.

  Romano’s face paled yet again as he leaned his head back to match Zander’s stare.

  “I said … apologize,” Zander said, the menace in his voice somehow sounding louder than the music and crowd around us.

  Without taking his eyes off Zander’s, Romano nodded. “Excuse my language and tone. I apologize.”

  Zander stepped back just as a few of the security guys stepped forward and followed behind Romano as he left Empire. I moved to bend over and pick up my mess, but before I could, Zander wrapped a sizeable hot hand around my wrist, making me gasp.

  “Leave it,” he said, his heated eyes burning my face.

  I didn’t respond.

  Instead, I nodded.

  He motioned across the room to someone I couldn’t see before pointing down at the mess I had made.

  Then he turned his attention back to me and branded my skin with his sharp gaze yet agai
n.

  “It’s taken care of. Follow me,” he demanded.

  I followed him to his office, my eyes taking in his broad shoulders and slim hips.

  He really was a gorgeous creature.

  It was too bad he was such an angry person. I mean, honestly, I was shocked he had taken up for me. Mainly since it was my fault. I had tripped over my shoes. I had spilled his drinks, which was something he had warned me about the first day I worked.

  Yet he defended me.

  It was weird.

  His office was dark and masculine. A black leather couch against one wall and a massive desk in front of the other. His own personal bar stocked full of what I now knew was the most expensive liquors, and the other wall was just windows. That seemed to be a theme at the Empire.

  The green windows.

  They were the outer shell of the castle; barely letting the blazing Vegas sun in, yet allowing all those inside the building to see the city just outside.

  He shut the door behind us before leaving me and going toward his desk.

  “You spilled my expensive liquor,” he said as he unbuttoned the bottom of his jacket and took a seat behind his desk.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered.

  “Don’t ever let me catch you wearing flip-flops to work again. If you do, I’ll fire you on the spot, understand?”

  I nodded. “I do, but …”

  “No buts. Wear them again and you’re fired.”

  “Mr. Hale, they are all I have right now, but I promise to get a new pair of shoes as soon as possible,” I blurted out.

  It was embarrassing to admit, but if it meant keeping my job, then so be it.

  The truth was, the minute I had a second, I would tape my flip-flop back together and continue to wear them until I could get to a store to buy a pair of shoes to work in.

  His face tightened with my words, and I expected him to say something rude.

  “First of all, don’t call me Mr. Hale. You make me sound like a fucking high school teacher.” His eyes pierced me yet again, making me swallow my nerves. “Do I look like a teacher to you, Eden?” he asked, my name rolling off his lips in a sexual manner I didn’t understand.

  I shook my head. “No, sir.”

  “And do I act like a teacher, Eden?”

  He repeated my name like saying it gave him great pleasure.

  Again, I shook my head. “No, sir.”

  He shocked me by standing and moving from behind his desk. He stalked toward me like a lion ready to eat me alive, and my knees shook harder the closer he got.

  Reaching up, he fingered a loose strand of my hair sweetly, yet his face remained angry and hard.

  “However,” he cooed, “sir should suffice. From now on, that’s how you’ll address me. Understood?”

  He pulled back just as I felt like I would pass out from lack of oxygen, and when he did, I took a deep breath.

  I wanted to rebel.

  I wanted to tell him to take his sir and stick it where the sun didn’t shine, but I knew I couldn’t do that.

  Instead, I nodded and said, “Yes, sir.”

  His lip trembled a bit as if he was going to grin at my words, but he didn’t. Instead, he moved away from me and back to his desk.

  Leaning over, he opened a drawer and pulled out a thick billfold. He tugged a bill from the fold, put it back in the drawer, and closed it.

  “Take this,” he said, holding the bill out between two fingers. “Go right now and buy yourself a proper pair of shoes. Once you have, get back here and finish your shift.”

  I stared at the hundred-dollar bill as if it was a snake ready to bite me.

  “I can’t take that.”

  He lifted a dark brow. “Excuse me?”

  “I can’t take that money. I didn’t earn it.”

  His eyes went wide before he quickly recovered, and a dark chuckle rumbled over his lips.

  “You’re serious?”

  I nodded.

  Again, he chuckled.

  I didn’t want any handouts. As long as I worked for everything I had, I would never owe anyone anything. And I had a distinct feeling that Zander Hale was the last person in the world I wanted to owe anything to.

  10

  ZANDER

  THE FURY I FELT when I saw Victor Romano curse out Eden was something I hadn’t felt in years. I wanted to go across the bar and rip his vocal cords out so he could never speak to another person that way. And when I saw tears roll over her cheeks, I had to control myself because I almost did just that.

  Who the fuck wore flip-flops to wait tables?

  A lot of the girls wore heels—and I didn’t understand that either—but fucking flip-flops?

  No.

  That was my first thought after the anger toward Romano melted away, but then when she said she didn’t own any other shoes than the old, broken flip-flops on her feet, something inside me cracked.

  “We have ourselves a bit of problem then, don’t we? Because if you wear those flip-flops to work again, you’re fired, which means you either take what I’m offering you from the goodness of my heart and keep your job, or you refuse my offer and you lose your job.”

  Her face paled, her wide blue eyes looking hurt and confused.

  Part of me hoped she would refuse and leave. That would make my current situation a whole lot fucking easier. She would basically be quitting, and then Kennedy couldn’t hold it against me. But for a second, when I looked at the pain in her eyes, I changed my mind.

  The embarrassment of being so poor she couldn’t afford shoes showed on her face, and part of me hoped she would take the offer and get a pair of acceptable shoes. If she did, maybe she could continue to work and make money to dig herself out of whatever hole she was in.

  Then again, this was Kennedy’s niece we were talking about.

  Why had Kennedy not gotten the girl a pair of decent shoes?

  I happened to know for a fact that Kennedy made damn good money. I signed her paycheck. She could afford shoes.

  Anger moved into my gut once again.

  “Does your aunt know you don’t have any shoes? Does she know you’re working with fucking flip-flops on?”

  My questions came out rougher than I intended, making her jump a little.

  “She doesn’t know, and I would prefer she not find out. It’s not her job to take care of me.”

  “Then whose job is it?”

  “It’s mine. And as I said, I have the money, I just haven’t had the time.”

  Respect for her seeped in, shocking me. I hadn’t expected her to be so headstrong. She looked small and timid, but it seemed inside her tiny frame there was a bit of a warrior.

  “You have the money but not the time?”

  She nodded.

  “And you won’t take this money because you didn’t earn it? Seriously? You’re walking around with duct tape on your ninety-nine-cent flip-flops, and you’re looking at this hundred-dollar bill and refusing it because you didn’t work for it?”

  Again, she nodded.

  I stared at her, my eyes scanning her serious expression and the perfection of her flawless skin. She could have whatever she wanted. I knew men who would give her anything just to be near her. With her looks, she could walk the Vegas Strip dripping in diamonds, yet she refused to accept something being handed to her.

  She wanted to work for it, and I respected the fuck out of that.

  I nodded, understanding her reasoning. “Fine,” I conceded, stuffing the money in my pocket. “Then go buy some decent fucking shoes right this second and then get back here to finish your shift.”

  Her eyes narrowed at my words, anger striking her flushed expression and making me think she might actually stand up to me.

  That didn’t happen.

  Instead, she nibbled her bottom lip as though it was keeping her mouth in check, and then she said in a sarcastically sweet tone, “Yes, sir.”

  She turned, her broken shoe in hand, and started toward my office door to
leave. My eyes moved over her stiff back before landing on her perfect ass.

  She was fucking gorgeous and seemed to be clueless about it. I liked that about her. I also longed for the tiny spark I could see behind her eyes from time to time.

  She was a warrior.

  A fighter.

  We were kindred.

  I had once fought to survive in this life, and I could tell she was doing the same. It made me glad she had Kennedy Vaughn on her side, and if, by some chance, the same heated blood that flowed through Kennedy’s veins was in Eden’s veins, then I knew she would make it to the top.

  With or without anyone else’s help.

  Once the door clicked behind her, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a struggle to be in her presence, and holding my own was slowly becoming more difficult

  Her skin called to me.

  Her eyes.

  Her lips.

  Breasts.

  And that warm soaking spot between her thighs that I knew was untouched and needy.

  My cock throbbed between my thighs, hard and heavy, begging to be touched, but I wouldn’t give in. I was in control, and I would remain that way. My body didn’t have the last word; I did. But sometimes, when I looked at Eden, I didn’t feel so powerful. In fact, looking at her made me feel downright fucking weak.

  She brought out the addict in me, and he was hungry for just a tiny taste of her.

  THE NEXT MORNING, I woke with a hard dick and thoughts of Eden racing through my mind. I couldn’t get in a cold shower quick enough, and once inside, I made it a point not to spend too much time washing my cock.

  It was purple and angry, peering up at me with its accusing eye and cursing me for putting it through so much pain. I looked away, washing my hair once again and letting the cold water shock my system until my heated member cooled and went limp.

  Turning off the shower water, I dried my starving body and dressed for the day.

  It wasn’t long until I was stepping off the elevator onto the first floor of the Empire and making my way toward my office.