Everything shimmered—mirrors, glass, sequins. My flip-flops caught on the edge of the carpet, and I stumbled. No one looked back. The five of them were already moving, weaving through the clatter and clang like they belonged here. Like they’d been doing this forever.
I scrambled to keep up, trying not to stare at the walls, or the floor, or the ceiling that somehow felt too low and too high all at once. Someone laughed too loudly to my left, and I flinched, my pulse jumping. Slot machines chirped and sang. Mechanical voices announced wins and losses. It felt like being inside a pinball machine.
People bumped me. Shoulders. Elbows. No one said excuse me. They didn’t even pause. I was invisible and too visible at the same time.
When the elevator bank came into view, I focused on it. Silver doors. Small spaces. Somewhere I could breathe.
Darby pressed the button to call a car down. When the door opened, a stranger cut between me and Oz, and I stumbled into his back in my hurry to board. The man shot me a look, then muttered something about tourists. My rasped apology was swallowed by the ring of a nearby machine hitting a jackpot.
The six of us plus the unnamed stranger packed into the elevator, where I wedged into one corner and put my back to the mirrored wall. The stranger disembarked on the fifth floor and left us to ride the rest of the way to the rooftop. It was quiet with the guys toe-tapping and jabbing each other with their elbows, and I took the chance to reorient myself before we arrived on the eleventh floor.
Oz held the door until I made it off, and we broke intodaylight once more. On the Crowndell’s roof, I was higher than I’d ever been, and struck dumb.
It wasn’t just a pool; it was a playground.
White cement framed half a dozen bodies of water. Square soaking tubs formed a perimeter around larger areas designed for paddling or floating. Massive palm trees soared overhead, casting shade over hot-pink lounge furniture. With the midday glare reflecting off every ripple, the water looked crisp, inviting, and as blue as the sky.
We paraded onto the rooftop as if it were a stage. Here, the sun was our spotlight and the hotel guests our audience. I kept my towel up while the other guys stripped down, tugging off shirts and tossing them onto available chairs. Darby was the star, though. Front and center, he flaunted a bikini so skimpy it was practically theoretical. The sun hat covered more of him than his clothes did, and he kept that on, prancing on his toes so his legs and ass flexed.
Our arrival was enough of an event to turn heads, including the man in the white seersucker suit who’d been lounging against the poolside cabana.
Vaughn Ashford looked different in the daylight. His dark skin glowed with a warm sheen, and his white teeth flashed as he smiled, already moving toward us. In just a few strides, he targeted Darby at the front of our group.
“Good to see you, sweetheart,” Vaughn crooned, slipping smoothly into Darby’s orbit. “Glad you made it. And you brought your friends.”
Darby preened under the older man’s attention, batting his lashes and curving his lips in a demure smile. “I thought they’d give some ambiance to your little slice of paradise. Hope that’s all right.”
Vaughn bobbed his head. “Not a problem at all. They’rewelcome to stay.” He raised his gaze over Darby’s head to address the rest of us where we hung back. “You boys help yourselves to something from the bar while you’re here. On the house.”
Elliot headed for the cabana bar while Colt, Callum, and Oz took off for the nearest pool. I waited, debating over which way to go while listening to the tail end of Vaughn and Darby’s conversation.
“Baby, you’re too kind,” Darby said, his voice breathy and low.
Vaughn’s smile widened. “Don’t I know it?”
They both laughed as Darby glanced toward the pool. His orange eyes glimmered with interest. Then Vaughn’s arm hooked around his waist, reeling him in so he had to tip his head all the way back to see past the floppy brim of his hat.
Vaughn bent in and dragged a hooked finger across Darby’s cheek. “Why don’t you sit with me for a while?” he asked. “Spend a little quality time.”
Momentary tension fled Darby’s body, and he smiled in a perfectly practiced way. “Of course,” he said.
As I watched them walk off, I recognized the carefully crafted charm on Darby’s face as he engaged the other man. This wasn’t a day off for him. It was just the same job in a different setting. He’d been right when he told Colt he was the one on the guest list. He was also the one paying the cover charge.
If this was a gift, I didn’t want to waste it, but I wasn’t sure where to go. Colt, Callum, and Oz were causing a splash, roughhousing in the pool like overgrown teenagers. Their chaos had already driven the few other swimmers to seek quieter waters.
Instead of diving into the mess, I drifted toward the shade, where Elliot was lounging with a drink in hand, isolated in a pocket of calm.
As I lowered myself onto the chair next to his, Elliot plucked the garnish from his glass and held it out with a look of contempt.
“Never eat these things,” he said in reference to the skewered cherries and orange slice. “Fruit that’s been sweating on a bar top for six hours isn’t a snack; it’s a health code violation.”
Leaning over, he stabbed the skewer into the potted base of the palm tree beside him, then wiped his fingers on his pants. He sipped from the cocktail, then set it aside to pull a pack of cigarettes from one of his many pockets.
After ferrying countless orders to and from the executive suites, my drink knowledge was rapidly expanding, but I didn’t have much taste for the stuff. Even the ones that looked pretty burned my throat and made my eyes water. Rush said I was too light for hard liquor. That didn’t stop the VIPs from insisting on me taking sips of their martinis and getting tipsy on wine, hoping I’d let them get handsy.
Elliot dumped a cigarette and lighter out of the pack and fired up, then took a long drag. “Why aren’t you in the pool?” He waved the cig toward the trio making waves in the water, then he shot me a side-eye. “Are we having an itsy-bitsy bikini moment?”
“A what?” I didn’t realize he’d seen my borrowed suit, though the strings tied around my neck must have indicated what I was hiding.
