“I just didn’t realize…okay. Yes, sir.”
With that, I walk out. I need to put distance between her and me before I get ahead of myself.
Chapter 8
Ellie
Ileave the office with a smile. A smile that follows me all the way to the parking garage. It also earns me two head nods and a wink from random guys on the strip sidewalk that I wasn’t even aiming for. It isn’t until I am in my rundown yet still thankfully running Honda that I let the smile fall from my face.
And fall it does. Along with my stomach and composure and everything else.
It’s not that I didn’t know that I was going to have to work some nights. It literally said in the contract that I would have to accompany Damien from time to time to the Opal Room. I guess I just didn’t think my first day on the job would be the first night of it. He sort of failed to mention it at all, which means that I am not scrambling for a sitter.
I exhaust my normal people, which include my neighbor Amy and my friend Alyssa. Amy is headed to Disney, of all things, with her husband and kids. Alyssa’s whole house has the flu. Lovely. That means I have to call my sister. I dial her number on speaker as I pull out of the garage. I know she’ll say yes (she loves Luca like her own) but I also feel bad. Rachel and Chance have been in wedding planning mode, and I hate asking for favors.
“Hey!” she answers with the energy I wish I had.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Uh oh. What’s wrong?” Did I mention how well my sister knows me? Well enough to know my whole mood, full-blown, from one word.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I start in. “I just got off work.”
“Oh my God, that’s right! You just started the new job today! I’m so proud of you, Ellie! How was it?” That’s another thing she’s impeccable at. Being happy for me. It’s like she is in charge of the spotlight and while it is often on herself, she has this way of turning it on me once in a while, making me sweat and fidget because I’d prefer to live my modest little life behind the scenes.
“It was good. It was…very informative,” I answer because I can’t exactly tell her about how my boss is hot, but I’m trying to ignore it even though at some point I’m going to have to sleep with him.
“Informative?” she snorts. “You make it sound like you got a job in accounting. Girl! What’s it like to be working on the suit and tie side of the hotel industry again? A hotel on the strip nonetheless. You can’t sit there and tell me you didn’t miss it.”
“I did,” I say, and there’s a hint of sadness in my voice, because I was excited for the job. When I got the interview, I nearly jumped for joy. Until I realized just what kind of job it was. Now it feels sugar coated. I’m not entirely sure what’s under that sugar coating.
I guess I’ll find out soon enough. As in later tonight.
“Well then, why do you sound so indifferent? Does your office suck?” She asks, and this time I’m the one snorting.
“No, my office is amazing. Unreal, actually. It’s nicer than my apartment.”
“Yeah!?” she beams. “So…is it the people you work around? Let me guess. They’re all snobby. Or transplants. Nothing isworse than a snobby transplant that just wants to live and work in Vegas so they can party all the time.”
“I actually haven’t met many of my co-workers. But the baristas are nice.”
“The baristas are nice?” I don’t have to be able to see my sister’s face to know what her face looks like. It’s not great. “Ellie. I know you’re hesitant to love the job because your last good job ended so abruptly. But I really have a good feeling about this one.”
You mean because the last job ended in my boyfriend having an affair, ruining my professional reputation and me getting pregnant only days into my slut era? I don’t say that, of course. Instead, I say, “Maybe you’re right. I think I’ll feel better about it once I get used to the schedule. Speaking of the schedule…I have to work tonight…” I trail off, holding my breath.
“You work nights?” she asks.
“Not every night. There’s just certain…after hours…things…that I guess we can’t take care of during the business day,” I answer.
“After hours? Sounds scandalous…” she jokes with a giggle, and I’m glad she’s not around to see my cheeks turning three shades of red.
“Totally,” I giggle nervously. “So I was wondering…my usual babysitters are busy tonight. Do you think there’s any way you could watch Luca?”
“Absolutely,” she says immediately, further deepening my guilt.
“It won’t be all the time, I swear. And I’m sure I’ll have a planned-out schedule soon so I can make arrangements ahead of time,” I ramble.
“Honey, you really don’t have to worry about it. It’s not a big deal, really,” Rachel says casually.
