Groaning, I hung up to get back to my call with Pierre.
“See what I meant about not going. If there’s shit going down, you need to be the one handling business. They’ve got to focus on the other.”
I shook my head, despite him not being able to see me. He might have been partially right, but he wasn’t completely. Handling business was necessary. But doing it from here wasn’t.
“You’re going to need to meet me at the casino.”
“Didn’t I just say?—”
“I heard you, Pierre. What I’m saying now is that we’ve got to navigate the aftermath of this shit. We can’t very well do that if we’re not on site. Security will likely be talking to the authorities, but what about the rest of the staff? And the clients?”
He sighed. “Ok, yeah. You’re right. I can be there soon.”
“Good. There’s work to be done.”
I forcedmyself to get to work despite wanting to charge to wherever Pip was. I needed eyes on my boy ASAP. Once work was handled, I’d be rushing to wherever he was.
At the casino, it was utter chaos. People were rushing around, still not quite able to go inside until the police cleared it. The cops were taking statements and paramedics had started checking people who looked like they’d gotten hurt in the panic of it all.
After I tracked down the casino's security chief, I told him to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. I demanded his team check all packages and deliveries, to be ready for anything. Then I found maintenance and told them to check the HVAC systems, the electrical rooms, anywhere someone could hide something dangerous once we were clear to go back inside.
It took quite a bit of time to work through the list of people to speak with. I delegated some of it off on Pierre, though he still came to me to consult on a few of them. The kid just wasn’t in as deep as he should have been. It was a conversation I’d have to have with Pharrell.
Pierre needed more access. This situation proved as much.
With a second to breathe, I did the one thing I needed most: I called my boy.
The phone rang out. And rang. And rang some more.
What the fuck?
He didn’t answer. Did that mean something was wrong? Or had he turned it off to give them some peace?
Hoping it was a fluke, I dialed again. The same thing happened.
I was too shocked to say anything, so I hung up before the voicemail could play. Standing in the tent they’d set up for us to use as a pseudo-office, I focused on keeping my cool. Losing my shit here wouldn’t help anyone.
Dialing him for a third time, I decided what message to leave. When it clicked over, I said, “Pick up your phone. Now.”
My voice came out harder than I intended. But honestly, what else was I supposed to do when there were no updates and my boyfriend wasn’t answering his goddamn phone?
As I was waiting, voices from outside the tent drew my attention. I recognized a few of the security guys’ voices.
“…Dumb luck. Could've been anyone. Pharrell keeps him around because he’s scary.”
I didn’t need to hear anything else. Whipping around the thin wall, I stepped right into their space. The one who’d been talking looked at me with a smirk. He knew I’d heard him, and he probably thought I’d come out to join in the shit talk.
Everyone assumed I didn’t like Pip. They believed he and I were still only cordial for Pharrell’s sake.
Us being in love would come as a shock. Of course, I wouldn’t drop that bomb without my boy around. He would be utterly delighted to watch their reactions.
"Pip went in," I said. "He got Pharrell downstairs safely, then he managed to disable the bomb before it could kill everyone. Now he’s at the hospital with our boss and Ricardo, while you’re standing around talking shit about a situation you have no clueabout. I can’t wait to tell Pharrell what his security staff is truly like.”
I let every ounce of venom I could hold in my tone free. The men cowered away from me, eyes wide like they couldn’t believe my reaction.
They’d better fucking believe it. I was done playing nice. Especially when it came to talk of my man.
My phone rang as the group fled, Pip's name on the screen. I answered before the first ring finished.
