“That is so cool,” Julia said. “I can’t wait to tell her I ran into a fan of hers.”
“Please tell her my dream is for her to be my fashion consultant for pretty little accessories.”
“She will be delighted to hear that.”
Then Mindy’s face turned serious, and she seemed to be focusing on something. She raised her hand to her right ear, pressing on a Bluetooth piece, then spoke in a low voice. “Be right there.”
Pointing vaguely in the opposite direction, she said, “I need to go take care of something, but it was so great meeting you, Julia. And Brent, I will kick your ass the next time I see you and that’s a promise.”
She saluted Brent and picked up the pace as she walked away.
“She’s sweet,” Julia remarked.
“Yeah, she’s the best. Just don’t cross her,” Brent said playfully, but also in an admiring tone that made her realize he was being truthful. Julia made a mental note—don’t mess with Mindy.
* * *
What the hell?
Now she was using the brother connection as a cover-up for her hustling? Wearing a tight little skirt, a strappy tank, and a long string of pearls, she sashayed up to a blackjack dealer, cashed in for chips, and then commanded the whole damn table. She brought along that wise-ass comedian. Stupid joker acted like he was Vegas royalty, strutting around like a big man on campus.
He knew all about Julia, knew every last detail, down to who she lived with, and she was fucking this smart aleck’s brother. Now, he was seeing how she operated, bringing in locals to make herself seem clean.
No wonder she was at the top of the list.
He brought a glass of water to his lips, and downed it one thirsty gulp. Fucking desert. This place was so goddamn dry, and he was always parched. Plunking the empty glass on the counter, he walked down the steps, running his hands along the railing, contemplating the best way to invite her to a high-stakes game in the private room.
Meanwhile, that same couple joined her at the table. The older duo from the afternoon, and this time they were dressed in evening attire, if you could call it that. Matching polo shirts. He shook his head, but had to hand it to Julia Fucking Bell. She knew how to pick ‘em, and she had a pair of perfect plants with her. He bet they had a criminal record too, just like that Tad Herman she’d met with earlier.
He ambled past the VIP room, tapping his knuckles against the wall, a reminder that he’d get her in there soon enough.
Then he’d find out all the things he needed to know. Every. Single. Thing.
CHAPTER TEN
Friday, 7:14 p.m., Las Vegas
The drive to Vegas was smooth sailing on the 15—not a wink of traffic and he managed the route at eighty-five miles an hour, blasting Tom Petty’s Greatest Hits, one of the best road-trip albums ever. As he handed the keys to the valet at the Allegro, he checked his messages. Brent had texted that he’d snagged the gift and would keep it safely stowed until Clay needed it.
One less thing for him to worry about. The rocky start to the day was behind him, the stress over and done. The rest of the weekend he’d be fucking busy and busy fucking. That’s what he told himself as he stabbed the up button for the elevator in the hotel. He needed to take a piss, wash his hands, and then get downstairs and gather up Julia. Once inside the elevator, he stretched his neck from side to side, trying to work out the kinks from the drive. He’d been tense the whole time, racing against the clock, tearing down the highway, eager to get the weekend back on track. Rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, he tried to work out the knots when the elevator dinged at the twenty-first floor.
Three minutes later, he was back in the lift, shooting down to the lobby level, ready to find Julia and his brother at the blackjack tables where Brent said they were playing and winning. Good. Julia deserved to win every damn hand this weekend, and then some.
As he made his way through the lobby and across the crowds, something shifted in the air. A chill ran through him and his skin tingled coldly with the unmistakable sensation of being watched. Looking behind him, he spotted a tall man in a dark suit. His blood froze. Just like Julia had said.
In seconds, the man was gone.
Clay shook his head, rubbed his eyes, and wondered if he was seeing things, or if there was something more to Julia’s fears. Or if there was something more to Charlie being angry with him. Was he tracking them? Getting ready to pounce?
But then all worries were stripped from his brain when he found her at the blackjack table thirty feet away. Wearing her pearls. A bolt of heat tore through his body. The memory of that morning flashed before him like a film reel playing his favorite clips. Sliding the beads over her, watching her reaction as her eyes went hazy with desire. Her asking him to put them inside her, then him tugging them out as she leaned her head back, her mouth falling open, her shout ringing in his ears from her orgasm.