L: I don’t like that you’re not returning my calls. I also know you weren’t at home last night. Where were you, Lace?
Guilt swirlsinside me as I close the messaging app without responding and sigh. I should have known he’d have people watching me. It isn’t enough for him to track my phone. He’s figured out that I started leaving it at home. Does he think I’m dumb? I know what men like him are capable of. They have no limits.
After lifting the ice pack from my hip, I wince. I’ve barely moved all day, other than to pee. It’s been torture when I’ve had to get up.
These past few weeks have been grueling. Between the endless hours of working at a totally new job that I’ve never actually done before, acquainting myself with the dancers and routines, and also starting at the ballet studio across town, I was already worn out when I decided to go dancing last night. But I knew it would make my soul feel better. I just hadn’t also planned on having my soul leave my body while I was fuckedin multiple positions all night long. Now, I’ll be lucky if I’m recovered by the time I go back to work in a couple of days.
With the remote control in hand, I change the channel and let out a sigh. Ever since I got home, it feels like there’s a black cloud hovering over me. He said it plain and simple: one night, no names. So why do I feel like I did something wrong by leaving?
Last night was more than just sex. We talked and laughed, and it wasn’t even about anything important, really, but it felt meaningful. The way he held me after we had sex didn’t feel like we were having a one-night stand. It felt like he was holding me like I meant something to him. Like he didn’t want to let go. And I didn’t want him to.
“Oh, hey, Lacey!”
Turning around, I smile widely at my new boss. Well, technically, she owns the entire casino. I don’t report directly to her, but she was the one who interviewed me for the position, and we hit it off instantly.
“Hey, Jordyn,” I greet, grabbing a bottle of water from one of the tables, while dancers stretch and warm up around the room to start rehearsing routines. “How are you?”
The moment I met Jordyn Savage, I thought she was fabulous. Bright red lipstick and custom-tailored suits and dresses that hug every one of her lush curves. I bet she could run a whole boardroom of men if she wanted to and command their attention by simply raising a brow.
“I’m great. How are you? I’ve been hearing amazing things about you from some of the dancers. If you need anything to get settled in, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”
She’s also incredibly kind and genuine, which is a bit unexpected. I’m not used to that. In my family, the women are all bitches who talk behind everyone’s backs and look down upon anyone who isn’t as rich as they are. Jordyn seems so down-to-earth. And the fact that she hired me, even though I used my mother’s last name on my application instead of my real one, tells me she doesn’t prioritize social status in her businesses. She looks for the right fit. Because she cares about the organization.
“Thank you. I love your blazer,” I tell her.
Biting her lip, she smiles and then starts laughing. “That’s so funny. I was just about to tell you that I love your purple hair.”
Straightening my spine, I try not to blush. All I ever wanted growing up was purple hair. But ballerinas don’t have colorful hair. At least, that was my mother’s opinion. So the first thing I did when I arrived in Vegas was find a hairdresser. I’ve been obsessed with my hair ever since. I know it’s a little wild, but it’s hair and people can fuck off if they don’t like it.
“Ace, we’re headed to the stage,” a dancer calls out to me.
I nod. “I’ll be right there.”
Jordyn’s eyes widen, and her gaze darts to mine. Then her mouth drops open. “Oh my God. You’re her.”
A mix of emotions swirls within my stomach. Did she figure me out somehow? I used a different last name. How would she have found out?
“You’re the girl my brother-in-law met the other night. You have purple hair and wear a ton of glitter. It makes total sense. How did I not put two and two together when he told me about you?” Jordyn stares at me, looking me up and down like shecan’t believe it. Then she starts laughing, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.
Mind racing, I try to follow what she’s saying. Her who? Brother-in-law? Who is she married to?Shoot. I researched Jordyn Savage before my interview. I only found that she had one sibling, a brother who died somewhat recently. She was recently married to another billionaire casino owner.
I close my eyes for a second and then open them, still trying to piece it together. The conversations he and I had throughout the night. Did he share anything personal with me?
“Shit. Lacey, I’m so sorry. Fuck, I don’t think before I speak sometimes. My husband is rubbing off on me.” Jordyn reaches out and pats my arm. “My brother-in-law. I think you met him the other night. Kian. At one of my clubs the night of his birthday.”
Shaking my head, I blink several times. “Wait. I’m sorry. I did meet a guy the other night, but he never said it was his birthday.”
Jordyn stares at me for a long second before slowly asking, “Was his name Kian?”
Fuck.
How do I tell my boss, the owner of the entire casino and many more in Las Vegas, that I don’t actually know the guy’s name who I had sex with the other night.
When I don’t answer right away, a look of horror crosses Jordyn’s face before she quickly masks it and pulls out her phone. A second later, she shows me a photo of her, with four men and another woman. As I scan the faces, my heart stops when my eyes land on him.
Daddy.
“This is Kian,” she says, using her red-painted fingernail to tap on the photo.
