“As long as we’re there to bail Esme out, she’s good,” I say, slipping my cell into the small pocket of my black and gold dress.
We walk around with our drinks in our hands, scouting the talent, as we make a full circle of the room, checking out all the options. There is a mix of men here. Old. Young. Hot. Not so hot. A few groups of men whistle and holler as we stroll past, and we stop a couple times, indulging in mild flirtations before moving on. Maybe it’s my mood, but none of the cute guys we meet are doing it for me.
“Oh my God.” Esme slams to a halt, and I spill some of my fresh vodka cranberry on the hardwood floor. “Did you see him?”
“See who?” Pen and I ask in unison.
“Saverio Salerno.” She licks her lips, and her eyes become alive. I can almost see the wheels churning in her head as she plots and plans.
“Should I know who that is?” I’ve never heard of the dude. I follow her line of sight to the back of a tall guy, heading toward the VIP door at the side of the room. He’s wearing a black tailored suit that looks expensive, and his dark hair is cropped quite close to his head. His shoulders are broad, his arms straining the material of his suit jacket, so the guy is obviously ripped.
“He owns this place and a couple of casinos,” she supplies, lowering her voice an octave. “It’s rumored he’s part of the mob.”
Pen and I trade looks. Spotting the excitement on Esme’s face, I already know we’re screwed. “Please don’t tell me you’re interested in pursuing a man like that?”
“You know I love a bad boy and I thrive on a challenge.”
“We also know you are reckless with little regard for your personal safety,” Pen says, looking worried as she runs a hand through her quirky brown bob.
“You know I normally support your escapades,” I say, “but if the rumors are true, he doesn’t sound like the kind of man you should even look twice at, let alone sleep with.”
I have a rebellious streak in me too—just ask my father. I’m sure he has a long list of bad behavior he could mention—but I know where to draw the line, and this is it. I wet my dry lips, tossing my soft blonde curls over my shoulder, as I contemplate how to divert this train wreck. “We should go to another club,” I blurt. “Who knows when we might get to come to Vegas together again. We could go on a club crawl.”
Esme winks. “Nice try, but I’m not leaving until I at least say hello to the man.”
“This has bad idea written all over it,” Pen mutters, eyeing the man’s back with a wary expression. “I’d like to arrive home alive.” She drills Esme with a loaded look. “As in, not wearing a body bag.”
“My God, Pen. Chill out. You are totally overreacting.”
I’m not sure she is, but what harm could it do to say hi to the guy? I know how stubborn Esme is, and if we keep resisting, it will only make her more determined.
“Let’s say hi and then talk to the others and see if they want to stay or go?” I suggest.
“I can compromise with the best of them.” Esme grins. Pen mumbles under her breath, but she gives up fighting too. Esme smooths a hand down the front of her short green dress. “How do I look?”
“Stunning, like always,” I say.
“I’m not sure a man like that is after stunning,” she muses, keeping her eyes locked on him as he stops to converse with a small group of men about ten feet from the enclosed VIP area.
“He’s still a man, and they all think with their dicks.” I tug the front of my strapless dress up, checking that I’m not showing more than a socially acceptable level of cleavage. I smother a snort of hilarity. If my father could hear my thoughts now, he’d be proud.
“This is a terrible idea,” Pen mutters, looping her arm in mine as we follow Esme toward the man.
“We both know there’s no talking Esme out of something once she has made up her mind. We can’t let her approach him alone. If anything were to happen to her, we would never forgive ourselves.”
“I know.” Pen sighs. “I just worry about her. I’m all for sexual equality and exploring your options, but her penchant for fucking dangerous assholes could come back to bite her someday, and I don’t want to see her hurt. Especially not on your birthday night. I want you to look back on this night with fond memories.”
“And I will.” I pat her arm in reassurance, hoping I’m right.
Spiking Tony’s drink with sleeping pills might not have been the smartest play. If my father knew I was partying in Las Vegas without my bodyguard, he’d throw a hissy fit. He doesn’t understand how restrictive it is. How it gets old having Tony trail me wherever I go. One would think I’d be used to it by now, because I’ve had a bodyguard for as long as I can remember, but I hate the intrusion and the attention it draws.
Being the daughter of the billionaire owner of Lawson Pharma comes with its fair share of perksanddrawbacks. Lack of privacy being one. I wanted to come to Las Vegas and party with my friends without Tony breathing down my neck or having him relay every minute detail to my father.
Sometimes, I just want to be normal. A normal girl, out celebrating her birthday with friends, doing all the mad crazy shit normal twenty-one-year-old women do. Is that so bad to want? Honestly, if a genie appeared and granted me a wish to live a normal life in exchange for giving up the money and the trappings of wealth that come with our lifestyle, I would do it in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t need to think about it. Not for a second.
I plan to get laid at some point during the trip, and Tony vetting any potential fuck buddies usually kills the mood and ends my fun.
Shove an NDA at a guy and see how fast he hightails it away.
