The hotel phone rings, pulling my attention away from my thoughts and I answer on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Dime Piece! Are you coming to my party tonight?” Yamada’s upbeat voice laced with his heavy accent shoots across the line.
I lift my eyebrows. “Alexander didn’t mention anything.”
“King said you hate him right now and wouldn’t come even if he asked, but I knew if Yamada invited you up to his penthouse, you couldn’t turn that down.”
I roll my eyes and laugh to myself. Yamada really is convinced that he’s quite the ladies’ man.
Yamada’s also wrong about Alexander. Alexander didn’t tell me about the party because he knew I would jump at the chance to spend a little one-on-one time to pick Yamada’s brain. Alexander kept this from me on purpose. He knows how badly I want to talk with Yamada. Alexander wants to limit my access to the man who whill have a huge hand in the destruction of my father’s company.
King has another thing coming if he thinks he can keep me from my main objective while we’re here.
“So, are you coming or not?” Yamada asks.
I lift my chin. “I’m in. What time does it start?”
“It’s already in full swing, so get your smokin’ self up here. I’m in the Real World suite. I’ll send my security down in thirty minutes to escort you up.”
“I’ll be ready,” I tell him.
“Great. See you then, you sexy thing.” I hear the smile in his voice, and I can’t help shaking my head.
Out of every type of business partner I imagined Alexander King to have, Yamada was definitely unexpected.
When I pass through what I have officially dubbed ‘The Room That Shall Not Be Named’ on the way to the common area of the suite, I shudder the moment my eyes land on the table. The things that man did to my body on there are unspeakable in the best kinds of ways. It’s hard to admit the man that you love to hate can make you feel so incredibly good.
A quick rap on the door makes me quicken my pace. I open the door and find two very large official looking men in black suits—one white guy with short buzzed blond hair and the other a light-skinned black man with braids—each of them at least six-foot-five or better because they dwarf me by at least a foot.
The man with braids gives me a polite smile. “Good evening, miss. We’re here to escort you to Mr. Yamada’s suite.”
I nod stepping out into the hallway with them and closing the door behind me. The ride up in the elevator to Yamada’s penthouse is quick, but I find myself fidgeting with the hem of my black dress, trying to squeeze an extra inch from the length to cover more thigh. This is the shortest one I brought, and suddenly, I wish I wouldn’t have picked this one to wear to a place I know Alexander will be in attendance. I don’t need the temptation of having him come on to me. Lord knows that I can’t seem to resist his advances, so I need to make sure I steer clear and don’t set myself up for another encounter with him.
When the elevator dings and the doors open, the men lead me down the hallway. They pause at a set of double doors and use their keycard to gain entrance into Yamada’s suite. It doesn’t surprise me that this suite is the biggest one in the hotel.
Wall to wall bodies fill the large space as music pumps through the air. People are dancing to the beat while sipping on drinks like the place is one of Vegas’ hottest nightclubs. I follow the security team closely as we wind our way through the crowd. Yamada seems very eccentric and over-the-top, so this place totally fits him.
The crashing sound of bowling pins smashing into one another catches my attention, and I raise my eyebrows when I find a full-fledged bowling lane in the suite just a little ways down from the hot tub that’s filled with bikini-clad women.
Turning the corner, I see a large white sectional crammed with people. My heart freezes in my chest the moment my eyes land on Alexander, who has two women strategically placed on either side of him. He hasn’t spotted me just yet because I follow his line of sight and his gaze is fixed on Yamada, who is standing in front of him wearing a flat bill baseball cap turned sideways, low-riding jeans, and a white buttoned-down dress shirt that’s undone to reveal a T-shirt underneath. Yamada seems to be telling a story of some sort because he’s throwing his hands around causing Alexander to laugh. I stop in my tracks and just stare. It’s the first time I’ve ever actually seen Alexander look relaxed and happy, and it’s breathtaking. The casual outfit he has on of jeans and a T-shirt looks amazing. He’s never looked more handsome, and from the outside looking in, he looks like a carefree spirit—one I wish I knew instead of the asshole I fucked . . . twice.