Dirty Deals by Nicole James Page 0,2
fifty-fifty. So this could be a good night for me or a complete waste of my time.
But if it keeps John happy, that’s incentive enough, as long as he remembers all these favors I’ve been piling up. Someday I’ll cash them in.
An hour later I’m stepping out of the limo dressed in a short, sparkly cocktail dress. I glance up at the building. It’s thirty-four floors and each one is a single residence.
I take the elevator to the very top, using the private code I’ve been given. I step into the small entry and ring the bell to the elaborate carved doors. They swing open, and a butler escorts me in. There’s a small hall table with a document and pen resting on it.
“Miss Fox, please read and sign this.”
I’ve seen enough non-disclosure agreements to know one. It’s pretty standard fare anytime I’m dealing with a celebrity. I scribble my name, barely glancing at the thing.
“I’m Thomas, Miss Fox. I’ll be here all evening should you need anything.” He’s an older man with thinning hair and a sweet face.
“Thank you, Thomas.”
He leads me in. The place is exquisite, with polished travertine floors and high ceilings, expensive artwork and muted lighting. I walk down the short hall that leads to a living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the amazing skyline of the lights of the strip.
The penthouse is fabulous with top of the line everything. There’s a terrace out a set of sliding panels with a pool and fire feature. Everything is ultra-modern.
I’m greeted by the head of Ciara’s catering, a man named Ryan.
“Ashlynn, glad you’re here,” he whispers. “This is a complete shit-show.”
I follow him into the kitchen where his staff is working. “What’s wrong?”
“I was told there’d be a dozen players and their guests. I brought enough for twenty-four.”
“And? Is there not enough?”
“Ashlynn, the butler says there are only three people playing tonight. Axle was called away or something, and everyone else cancelled.”
“Three people? And they’re still playing?”
He nods, arching his brow, then hisses low. “One of them is that Ricardo fellow.”
Oh shit. That Ricardo fellow being Ricardo Leona. He’s purported to be connected to a major crime family. You can tell me all day long that the mob is gone from Las Vegas, but I’ve run into enough of his type to be skeptical.
“Who are the other two?” I ask.
He shrugs and leans closer. “They’re brothers, but they look mob related, too.”
What the hell is Axle Crow doing with mobsters? Maybe that’s where he’s been getting the money to gamble. I’ve seen the darker side of human nature, and nothing surprises me anymore.
A man steps into the kitchen. He’s in his thirties and dressed in a suit. “Are you the girl from the Del Sol?”
I extend my hand. “Ashlynn Fox.”
He ignores it and glances over at Ryan. “You can pack up most of this. We’ll only need three entrees and appetizers.”
Ryan’s livid gaze cuts to me, then he storms off, slamming tray covers.
“It seems things have changed. Perhaps I could be of service another night,” I say, trying to smooth things over and hoping to make a quick exit.
“Not at all. We still need a hostess. The remaining guests will be playing as scheduled. Understand?”
Nope. Not at all. And I really don’t want to be in a room with mobsters. Of course, I can’t say any of that. “Yes, sir, I see.”
“This way, please. I’ll get you set up, and then I have to get Axle to the airport. He’s waiting downstairs in the car.”
“And you are?”
“Simon Reed. Mr. Crow’s manager.”
I’m led through the living room, down a hall to another large room where the poker table has been set up. There’s a dealer, but I don’t recognize him. I’m sure he’s not from our casino. Three gentlemen are already getting set to take their seats.
Apparently I’m here to serve drinks and wait on their every need.
John’s going to owe me big time for this favor.
CHAPTER TWO
Ashlynn—
It’s been a long night.
Catering has packed up and left. The dealer has departed, and it’s just the butler and me with the three guests. The game has broken up finally with Mr. Ricardo Leona being the big winner. This game was played with cash, which is a strange thing to observe. I’m used to the games at the Del Sol all being played with chips. Here, stacks of bills were put in the center of the table. I found it hard to tear my eyes from that much money.
The butler gestures for