My words trail off, letting Aymond fill in the blanks. He owns and operates a casino in Las Vegas, for fuck’s sake, making him all too aware of the circumstances we currently face.
Tires crunching on the little bit of gravel here have both of us turning to see who is pulling up. A smile crosses my face when I realize that it’s Brody.
Glancing at my watch, a chuckle escapes my lips. Turning to Aymond, I clear my throat. Once his gaze focuses on me, I tap a finger on the watch face.
“Thirty-five minutes, pay up,” I say smugly. Extending my hand in Aymond’s direction, my fingers curl in a gimme motion, holding my palm up.
Aymond curses as he pulls a wad of cash from his pants pocket.
Releasing the money clip, he pulls out a hundred-dollar bill. Slapping it into my hand, he curses loudly. Seeing our exchange, Brody laughs.
“What was the bet this time?” Brody asks as his eyes bounce between Aymond and me.
Shrugging my shoulders as I tuck the bill into my pocket, Aymond answers Brody’s question.
“He bet me you would escape the legal team in under an hour. I thought it would take you longer.”
Brody’s head tips back as he laughs.
“You two bet on fucking everything. It’s no wonder you own casinos.”
“Speaking of which,” I interrupt, motioning toward the building with my head. “Let’s go take a look, shall we?”
Ignoring the sign requiring hard hats, we tour the building, making design notes as we go.
We have a long road ahead of us before the doors open for business. While relocating to Padston, New York, was never on my bucket list, I look forward to making a home here.
Chapter 2
Antonia
Rushing through the maze of hallways in the belly of the Wildfire Casino on the Vegas Strip, a voice chimes from behind me.
“You’re laaaattteee,” a sing-song voice sounds from behind me.
Spinning around to face the speaker, I respond while walking backward to the dressing room with a grimace on my face.
“I know. I’m sorry. The test took longer than expected.”
Shawna, my best friend, smiles. She opens her mouth to speak but changes her mind. Instead, she waves me off to get changed into my uniform and get ready for my shift.
As I turn the corner, Shawna calls out to me. “Come find me later,” her voice trails off as we walk in opposite directions.
Reaching the dressing room, the door slams closed behind me. A few people are lingering while I strip down and approach my locker. My fingers spin the dial of the combination lock as I juggle my belongings.
“Ya know, if you gave yourself a little extra time, you wouldn’t have to do all of this,” the snarky tone is accompanied by an open hand swirling around my entire body.
Rolling my eyes, I start squeezing my ass into the spandex uniform the floor waitresses are required to wear. Doing my best to ignore the know-it-all standing next to me, watching my every move.
Our uniform is better than some casinos lined up and down the Vegas strip. While skintight and not leaving much to the imagination, the halter top prevents my tits from spilling out of the neckline. The flared skirt, made of layered lace, while short, isn’t cut like a bathing suit. Every time I squeeze into the skin-tight material, I remind myself that it could be worse.
Harlow, another waitress and owner of the snarky voice, leans against the locker next to me. Her resting bitch face is firmly in place.
One of the Wildfire’s rules is that uniforms are not to leave the building. It’s a security measure they put into place, hence why I am rushing.
Touching up my hair and makeup before putting on my high-heeled shoes, I finally respond to Harlow as I close up my locker.
“In a few more months, you won’t have to worry about me,” I respond, phony grin firmly in place.
