“What the fuck…” I say, sitting up straight. Two seconds ago I was three sheets to the wind. But now, as I piece together what is really going on here, I am suddenly stone ass sober.
And Jocelyn is panicking. She mumbles something to this Kristi girl, who finally gets a clue after being visually assaulted and hurries off. Meanwhile, Jocelyn is attempting to do the same.
“Wait,” I snap, and she freezes, slowly turning back to me. “It was you,” I accuse as I stand up. “I should have seen it. It’s so obvious. The way you slink around behind everyone’s back, pretending to be doing something important all the time when really, you are just meddling. Stealing. Betraying. Lying…”
“You don’t understand,” she starts in, but I don’t want to hear it.
“There is nothing you can say,” I cut her off. “Nothing you can do. You’ve done enough, and I have no need for you. Come to think of it, Jocelyn, I never have. I was a fool to keep you around this long.”
She smiles, looking around, then back at me. “You…you’re not…are you firing me? Damien…”
“Yes. I am firing you. You are no longer employed by me, Miss Taylore. You are also no longer welcome within five hundred feet of any of my establishments.”
Jocelyn stares at me, but I just stare back. Eventually, she walks out, and I am left alone with my thoughts. And of course, a room of people pretending not to stare. The bartender returns with another drink.
“I’m good,” I say without looking at her.
“Yes, sir,” she nods. “Would you like me to call your driver?” she asks.
“Yes,” I answer. Then, I shoot Diego a text. Three words that he loves to hear. Three words that will both satisfy and surprise him.
Damien- I was wrong.
Chapter 41
Ellie
“I’ve worked at the Suerte in marketing. And the Redwood was my most recent employment,” I say with perfect posture. When the woman in the pantsuit says nothing, I wet my lips and keep talking.
“I worked under…directly with…Damien Graves,” I add, and I’m not sure if I just dug my own grave or not.
“I can read, Miss Bates,” the woman says.
“Of course.”
I wait as she reviews my resume with bored eyes. It’s as if she’s already decided my fate but wants to string out my sentence for her own pleasure. Finally, she sets it down and looks at me from across the desk between us.
“Miss Bates, here at the Electra, we pride ourselves on employees with spotless histories,” she starts, and I cut her off.
“Is mine not? I mean, is there something on my resume that suggests otherwise?”
She clicks her tongue before going on. “Damien Graves has a lot of power here. He owns more hotels than anyone else in the city. As you know, hotels without casinos have to have other selling points. People come to Sin City to do just that. Sin. Luxury is his trademark–”
“And yet,” I say, matching her tone. Because at this point, I am a little tired of proving myself.
“And yet. Damien Graves also has a reputation. As do his…assistants,” she says flatly.
“So you’re going to base whether or not you hire me for your event planner position based on rumors?” I ask.
“In a world like this, Miss Bates, gossip can destroy an empire. Secrets leave an ugly residue on reputation.”
This time I’m the one clicking my tongue. I stand up and turn away, then turn back. “You will not find a better applicant for this job. I have worked my entire adult life for this. And if I walk out of your hotel unemployed, I will become your competition somewhere else, and I can assure you, it will be your loss.”
“With the assumption that your name hasn’t been smeared at every top tier hotel in the city,” she says, and I deflate ever so slightly. “I am not saying you have to walk away without a job, Miss Bates. I actually like you. You know what you’re doing. But considering what’s at stake, it would be too risky to put you in a position like that.”
My brow furrows in confusion. “Meaning?” I ask.
“I can offer you a secretarial position but nothing more,” she says, shuffling resumes around on the desk.
