Sure Thing(61)

“So what I’m hearing is that you need more liquor before I get the story.” Rhys taps his fingers against the wheel as we’re stopped at a red light.

“Where should I start, you nosey fucker?”

“The beginning. And stop sighing at me like a little bitch.”

“Fine,” I agree. Then I try to recall where this week went so horribly wrong. “She was hiding something. From the very first night she was hiding something.”

“As were you,” Rhys points out like an annoying prick.

“Whose side are you on?”

“Don’t be such a woman, Jesus. This chick’s really got you wound up tight.”

“You’re right.” The light turns green and we cross Tropicana Avenue. The Vegas Strip is a few streets to the left but impossible to miss. Daisy was impossible to miss too. “Let’s walk the property so I can see what’s been done since my last visit. I’ll tell you the rest when I’ve had another drink.”

We spend the better part of two hours walking around the new hotel. Vegas is the complete opposite of everything I’m used to. Massive and gaudy to my eye, but profitable, and that I can appreciate. The Windsor is set to open in just under a month. At just under two thousand rooms it’s considered small by Vegas standards. A boutique behemoth. What a ridiculous oxymoron.

We picked up the property under two years ago. Another developer had abandoned the project mid-construction, left near completion, but vacant. Viewing the property was eerie. An abandoned ghost town filled with untapped potential. Flash-forward to today and it’s anything but still. Workers everywhere. Casino tables in place. Slot machines being delivered and rolled in as we watch.

Rhys found the property, convinced me and the board of the potential, and here we are. The original plans were reconfigured to fit our vision and our corporate brand. We were able to turn the property around much quicker by renovating what the previous owner had started as opposed to starting again with new construction.

“Well done, Rhys,” I tell him as we make our way to the executive apartments. There’s a separate floor with living quarters for the senior staff of the hotel, should they choose to live on site.

“Thanks.” He runs me through the projected occupancy rate for the remainder of the year. Numbers well within reach. I’ve already run the numbers myself and am projecting this venture will become the highest source of revenue for our company within eighteen months.

But I’m not interested in business at the moment. This trip is superfluous business-wise. I came to drown my sorrows, truth be told. “Show me what Vegas has to distract me.”

Rhys’ eyes light up and he claps me on the back as the lift doors open ahead of us. “I know just the thing.”

Famous last words.

Four-ish drinks later I’m telling him everything. He’s taken me to some bar his buddy owns. In Henderson, for fuck’s sake, but at least it’s not a strip club. He offered, of course he did. He offered hookers too after I passed on the strippers and I wondered if possibly his mum wasn’t right to be worried about him.

“So I go running back to the hotel like a fucking knob,” I tell him. “We missed the farewell dinner due to the accident. It was late by the time Nan was admitted, so I’m rushing back to the hotel. Desperate to see Daisy even though she’s clearly a bit of a nutter.” We’re sitting at the bar and I motion for another drink.

“Clearly.” Rhys is doing his best to keep up with my drunken ramblings. He’s a brilliant friend.

“And the wanker of a driver is going into her room.”

“Ah.” He winces in reaction to my misery.

“Right! The guy she said she’d nothing going on with. Walking into her room at quarter past ten in the evening.”

“Lying whore.” Rhys shakes his head in empathy.

“Don’t call her that.” I scowl at him and pound back the shot in front of me.

“Sorry.” Rhys holds up a hand in apology. “I thought we hated her. Got it. We’re not there yet.”

“Maybe it was the driver she was trying to get back at. By picking me up that night. Do you think?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, because there’s nothing much else to say, is there?

“I don’t think it was normal behavior for her though. Picking me up in the bar. She was fairly awkward at it.”

I sip at the bourbon I’m consuming between shots and try to run through the events in my head again. My memory is cloudy at present.

“Her pussy was fucking nirvana.” I’m not certain what that has to do with anything but in my drunken state it feels important to mention. “And her mouth, bloody hell.” I drop my head into my hands on the bar top.