"I'm sorry to leave you in the lurch," I told Rick as he walked me toward the lobby doors.
"You should be!" Rick answered with a dramatic huff. "But I suppose we'll somehow manage to get by without you. Plus, it saves me from having to pretend that I'm not firing you because of your age in a year or two. One less lawsuit to worry about."
"Oh, Rick..."
Rick truly was an awful,awfulboss. And I'm sure he wasn't kidding, like, at all about the rant he'd been planning to make all the newbies cry—or firing me for getting too old. But he'd beenmyno good, terrible boss for nearly a decade. A wave of bittersweet endearment washed over me as I pulled him in for a warm hug.
"I'm going to miss you so much," I told him, actually meaning it.
"And I'm going to love having another showgirl embedded in the Benton Family." He hugged me back tightly. "That's the real job security, you know."
But then he pulled back with a consternated look in his eyes. "Go cash in your golden lottery ticket with Triple Ice, but be careful with that one. That man is fine as hell, but he's not his grandfather. He might not be as easy to wrap around your finger. Negotiate that pre-nup hard, okay, missy? And whatever you do, don't let your heart get too involved because he's the kind of shark that will eat you alive."
It wasn't real. This engagement. My reason for quitting. None of it was real.
Yet, a chill ran down my spine.
"Do you want to be intimate, Sunny?"
Cole's question echoed through my head, along with the memory of how my body had wanted to give another answer, even as my mouth was telling him no.
Rick is right, I decided as I walked out of the Nora Benton Theatre for the last time as an official Benton Girl.
If I wanted to survive this so-called engagement with my heart intact, I would need to think with my head.
And stay out of Cole Benton's bed.
CHAPTER6
Cole
"I don't thinkI can go along with this plan of yours, Cole." Jacob Levy paused to retrieve his putter from the bag before lining up his last putt of our round of golf at the club adjacent to the hotel. "Your grandmother and I go way back. She's the one who convinced your grandfather to take me on as his in-house counsel when I decided to leave my firm and hang my own shingle. Do you know how rare it was for hotel brands to do that back then?"
"I am aware of your history with my grandmother, yes." Normally, I would indulge this burst of backstory. Even ask follow-up questions, like I actually gave a shit about his history with Nora. Patience was a virtue when it came to business negotiations, and nostalgia could easily be manipulated to get exactly what you wanted from a reluctant deal partner.
But we'd nearly finished our round of golf, and after the unexpected morning I'd had with Sunny, I was ready to end this second unscheduled event.
"Does your wife know about your affair with our towel boy Cody?" I asked just as Jacob took his swing.
Jacob choked the shot, sending tufts of grass farther than the ball, which only rolled a couple of inches.
"How did you...?" He broke off, most likely to avoid incriminating himself.
"That's all right. You don't have to confirm the story. We've got it all on camera in the supply closet, in the employee parking lot, and also in the sauna—which probably isn't a great idea for someone of your advanced years. Steam room pounding is hard on the ticker, even if you're the bottom."
Jacob's face flushed red, and I was fairly sure it had nothing to do with the blazing late-afternoon sun.
"You and your wife go way back, too, don't you?" I asked, coldly twisting the knife. "You've been together, what? Thirty-five? Thirty-eight years?"
"Thirty-nine," Jacob muttered. "Only nine of which she actually put out. We live in separate bedrooms. She's aware I have needs."
"Sure, sure. You have needs and an understanding. I get that." I nodded along as I calmly took my own shot, sinking the ball into the last hole without much effort.
I'd won the game, but instead of cheering, I made my true final point. "Thing is, Cody's barely legal. Not even half the age of that way back you go with my grandmother. Your wife may understand, but I'm not so sure how the rest of the board will feel about it—or the Vegas community at large."
I furrowed my brow, another thought occurring to me. "Or your wife, actually. She might not be nearly as accepting of your twenty-year-old side-piece after she's humiliated when this gets out."
Jacob still had a couple of shots left to get the ball in the last hole, but he no longer seemed interested in taking them. His Adam's apple bobbed. But he said nothing.
