Color palette. Cocktail names. Music. Wording. Announcement speech.
I could do this.
I had to do this. First—color palette. I pulled out my phone and texted Leo:Neon Elysium colors. What are we thinking? Deep space blues? Purple? Gold accents?
His response came immediately:Deep indigo base. Purple undertones. The accents are accentuated with rose gold and champagne gold. Metallics catch light better on camera. Sending the palette now.
My phone chimed with an image—a gorgeous color scheme that looked both cosmic and intimate, bold and romantic.
So we’d made one decision, but there were still several hundred more to make.
I decided to check out the area for the VIP lounge and sent Leo another text:The VIP lounge?
Leo:I’m having the Event Planner, Evelyn, work on that. Right now, it’s just a smaller ballroom.
Me:Which one?
Leo:The Selene Room.
Me:Selene?
Leo:The Greek goddess of the Moon.
Me:Thanks.
I set out in search of the Selene room but when I turned a corner, I bumped into someone. My heart stopped when I saw it was Marcus Talbor.
“Well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with false pleasantry. “The woman of the hour. Or should I say, the woman of three men?”
I stepped back, putting space between us. “Marcus. What do you want?”
He smiled, and it made my skin crawl. “Just wanted to deliver something personally.” He pulled a manila envelope from his jacket. “Legal documents. You should probably have your boyfriends’ lawyer look at them.”
I didn’t take the envelope. “What kind of documents?”
“Sexual harassment lawsuit. The lawsuit is specifically against you, although I believe the brothers will also be named as co-defendants for contributing to a hostile work environment.” He held it out like a gift.
“This is bullshit and you know it.”
“Do I?” Marcus’s smile widened. “Because I have documentation. Witnesses. Video footage of you propositioning me in the elevator. Your social media posts suggesting you were sleeping your way to the top. A very compelling narrative abouta young woman who used her sexuality to manipulate three powerful men.”
My hands clenched into fists. “You won’t get away with this.”
“Won’t I? The whole hotel’s buzzing. Tashi George and her three billionaires are throwing the party of the century to celebrate their unusual arrangement.”
“I don’t need to explain anything to you.”
He dropped the envelope at my feet. “You’ve got forty-eight hours to respond to the lawsuit. The deadline means that the news will break just before your Gaming Commission hearing. Funny how that worked out.”
“I don’t know what your game is.”
“It’s not a game, Tashi,” he said in a dark voice. “It’s business.”
The cruelty in his voice—the calculated way he twisted everything—made something inside me snap.
“You’re right about one thing,” I said. “I’m not playing a game.”
Marcus’s expression hardened. “You think you’re special. You think because they’re fucking you, that makes you untouchable. But you’re not. You’re just another employee who got in over her head. And when this lawsuit hits, when the media gets hold of it, when the Gaming Commission sees yet another scandal?—”
