“What’s your name?”
“Molly Olive.”
“I don’t see you on the calendar,” she says after staring at the screen in front of her for what felt like forever.
“If you just point me in the direction of Mr. Davids’s office….”
“You don’t have a meeting scheduled, Miss Olive,” she says, a little more confidently.
“See that phone there? Pick it up and let Mr. Davids know that Miss Olive from the Olive Group is here to see him. He will want to see me,” I tell the girl.
She does as I say and picks up the phone. “Mr. Davids, I have a Miss Molly Olive from the Olive Group here to see you… Uh-huh…” The girl nods as she looks at me. “Yes sir,” she replies before placing the phone down. “He’s not taking unscheduled meetings today.”
I blink at her. That has nevernotworked for me before. What the hell is happening? “Okay, jot me down for tomorrow then. It’s important.”
“Mr. Davids has no openings,” she tells me.
“What do you meanno openings?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Olive, but he just doesn’t want to meet with you.” The girl looks at me with pity. “Here… He said to give you this card. You can contact his associate.”
I take the card, my blood boiling at the name printed across the front. Alfie Giuliani. “Thank you for your time.” I smile and turn around.
As soon as I’m out of the building, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Angus.
“He wouldn’t fucking meet me,” I growl.
“Oh.”
“Oh? That’s not helpful, Angus,” I grunt. My heels hit the pavement hard as I stomp my way back to the Royal Flush. It’s fucking hot out here.
“Where are you?”
“Walking back to the Royal. We need to meet and brainstorm. One way or another, I’m going to get these buildings, Angus,” I repeat the mantra I’ve been telling myself since I landed in this god-awful city.
“Oh, I have no doubt, Mol. Let’s meet at that bar by the entrance.”
“Perfect. I could use a drink.”
“It’s barely noon,” he says.
“It’s Vegas,” I remind him.
“Point taken. I’ll order you a fruity cocktail of some sort. See you in a few.”
Throwing my phone into my purse, I finger the card that’s still in my hand.I will not call him.He doesn’t own these buildings. He has no vested interest in them at all. Whatever his reasons for keeping me from purchasing them are, I don’t care.
It doesn’t take me long to make it back to the casino, the cool air a refreshing relief from being out in the heat. Damn, this city is hot.
On my way to the bar, I pass three men, dressed impeccably in custom-made suits. It’s the one in the middle that catches my eye, though. Hudson Giuliani, same ridiculous good looks as his older brother with a little bit less hardness to his eyes, evenwith the bruise he’s sporting on his face. I slow my steps as I get closer, fiddling in my bag as I stop right next to the group. I don’t even know why I do it. Instinct?
“Mom’s charity gala’s this weekend,” I hear Hudson say.
“She’s having it here?” another male asks.
“Yeah, Alfie’s in the ballroom now going over shit with her,” Hudson responds.
Pulling my phone out of my bag, I smile as if I’ve found what I had to stop and dig around for before I start walking towards the bar again. There’s a charity gala this weekend. I’m already Googling to find out what the event is as I enter the bar. Looking up from my screen, I scan the space until I spot Angus.
