Less scary, my ass.My father might be the king of this town, but it’s me he’s groomed to take that spot on the throne. I am made in his image. But better, more improved. Where he might have morals, I choose to push mine deep down and get the job done.
He won’t admit it, but he fears my mother’s wrath if he steps too far over that gray line. Me? I don’t have anyone to answer to, and I plan to keep it that way.
“I’ll stop by the house on the way home,” I tell my dad.
“Thanks.”
Heading down to the casino floor, I make a beeline for the Starbucks and order two coffees. It’s not likely to help ward off the fatigue. But it’s worth a shot, and my mother loves her coffee.
I lean against the counter as I wait for my order, my eyes scanning the people filling the tables in the small space. That’s when I spot her. Molly Olive, aka the CEO of the Olive Group. What the fuck is she doing here?
The email I read on her this morning stated her last known location was in her office yesterday, in fucking Seattle.
A smile spreads across my face when I see her frown at her computer. Whatever she’s looking at, she’s not impressed. Miss Olive is obviously here trying to complete the task her team has failed to do. It’s not going to work.
I let my gaze linger on her a little longer than I should. I’m momentarily stunned by her beauty. I knew she was a good-looking woman, but the photos I received did not do her justice. Because in person, she’s fucking gorgeous. Her brown hair is long, pulled back into a ponytail. She’s wearing a white dress that does absolutely nothing to hide her curves, well, those that I can see from where I’m standing. There are also little freckles dotting her nose.
“Here you go, Mr. Giuliani.” The server’s voice draws me out of my trance. I take the two Venti-sized cups he holds out in my direction.
“Thanks. How long has she been there?” I ask, nodding towards Molly Olive.
“About an hour, sir,” the server replies.
“Thanks. Send her over another coffee and a muffin on me. But keep it between us,” I tell him.
Right as I’m about to exit, my mother walks in. “Alfie, hey.” She smiles wide as she approaches me.
My lips press against her cheek and then I step back. “This is for you.”
“You got me coffee?”
“Yeah, Dad said something about you showing some assholes around the ballroom?” I say.
“He did not sayassholes.” My mother frowns. “Did he?”
“No, I was paraphrasing. What’s this event for anyway?” I ask her.
“You waiting for something else?” Mom looks to the counter.
“Yeah, give me a minute,” I tell her.
“Okay, the ball is a charity event for a shelter,” Mom says. “It’s to help fund education courses for homeless teens.”
I nod. “Good cause,” I say genuinely.
My mother is always doing something for charity. Some of them are more worthwhile than others, though. Providing education to young girls who wouldn’t otherwise be able to access it is a good cause.
“It is. So, what are you waiting for?” Mom asks.
I watch over her head as the server places a coffee and muffin on the table in front of Molly. When he leaves, she looks around the room, her eyes stopping on me.
My lips tilt up slightly. Returning my focus to my mother, I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “We can go now.”
“What? I thought you were…” Her sentence falls short when I start leading her out of the coffee shop, right past Molly Olive, who is still staring at me. “Alfie, what are you doing?” Mom whispers out the side of her mouth.
“Going to the ballroom with you to make sure your event has everything it needs,” I tell her.
“No, what are you doing with that young woman back there.” Mom turns to look over a shoulder.
