What Happens in Vegas: A One-Night Stand Office Romance (Vegas Love Book 1)
What Happens in Vegas: Chapter 13

I grabbed my laptop and the folder containing all my notes for the fundraiser and headed to Trent’s office. He shocked me by suggesting a working dinner. Mr. We’re-not-a-couple-and-we’re-not-friends had no problem putting me in my place last week. It was nice to see him loosening up. Weird, but nice. I’d gotten used to his gruff demeanor and wondered if this was some type of sick trick he was pulling. Luring me in with Thai food, then snaring me in a twisted trap. I may not have wanted to strangle him this morning, but I wasn’t even close to trusting him. What the hell was that?

The door was cracked when I arrived. Trent sat at a round table with his laptop open. He stared at the screen while spinning a pen in his fingers.

“Knock, knock.”

He tossed the pen down. “Come in. I thought we’d work at the table instead. More room to spread out.”

I dropped my things on the table and walked toward the tinted window. The few times I’d been in Trent’s office, I was too distracted to look. I placed my hand on the window and gazed down at the casino floor. You could see everything from up here. Four o’clock on a Monday and the place was alive and bustling. “It really is like magic.”

“What is?”

“The casino. Before moving here, I’d never been to one.”

Trent came and stood next to me, hands in his pockets. “Really? They don’t have casinos in Illinois?”

I pressed my face closer to the window. “They do, but I didn’t have the time or money to enjoy them.”

“So, you’ve never pulled the handle on a one-armed bandit?” he asked in amazement.

“Nope. I never understood the draw.”

“What about poker?”

“I know how to play poker, but we used to play for dimes when I was in college. Nothing like this.” I motioned to the scene below.

“Hmmm. Our stakes are a bit higher than that. Our high rollers can easily spend ten grand a night.”

My head spun around. “Are you serious? Ten thousand dollars in one night?”

“Sometimes more.” He went back to where our work was laid out. “That’s not the norm though. Our lowest table is fifteen bucks if you want to give it a try.”

I headed to the table and opened my laptop. “Seems like a waste of money. I can think of better things to spend it on.” While growing up, finances were tight. We didn’t have money to spend on frivolous stuff. The only reason I was able to go to University of Chicago was because I got a scholarship. My parents still didn’t want me to go, but I couldn’t wait to get out of Waukegan.

Living so close to downtown Chicago changed my life. It inspired me to want more for myself. I wanted to live in one of those high-rises one day. I wanted to become somebody. I wanted to be where the action was.

I sat adjacent to Trent and internally cringed when I saw all the notes made on the proposal. “All of that needs fixing?” I wanted to think my work was flawless. Prove I could do the job Mystique hired me for.

“No. They’re questions, places it needs more detail, and my own ideas. We’ll get to all of it.”

I glanced at the clock. “That’s a lot. How long is this meeting going to last?”

His eyes narrowed. “As long as it takes. Why? You got a hot date or something?”

I laughed at his absurdity. “Not at all. I have no social life. The only people I know are Penny and Claude.”

“Who’s Claude?”

Was that a hint of jealousy I detected? “Just a guy I have dinner with every night.”

Trent’s jaw clenched. “Huh.”

So, maybe it was jealousy. I could jerk his chain, but there was really no point. “He’s the bartender in the pub downstairs where I have dinner. Claude’s like sixty, but he’s friendly and somebody to talk to. Better than eating alone.”

His shoulders relaxed. “I would think you’d be anxious to get home at the end of the day.”

“This is home.” I motioned to the walls around us. “I live up on the sixth floor.” I could see the confusion in his eyes. “Housing for a year is part of my benefits package. You didn’t know?”

“Not a clue.”

Now I was confused. “I figured it was standard practice.”

“Actually, I’ve never heard of housing being offered to any employee.”

I shrugged. “I guess there are some things that happen you don’t know about.” I nodded to the papers spread out in front of him. “So, what’s first?”

“The theme,” he said curtly.

“What’s wrong with the theme? I thought we already discussed this.” I sighed.

“The tagline is good, Unmask Domestic Abuse. We’re calling it a masquerade ball. I want fancy script and elegance on the invitations. Make it clear this is a black-tie event, not a costume party.”

He was like a dog with a bone about the whole costume party thing. Did he really think I was going to plan a Halloween party with a piñata and bobbing for apples? “You’ve been crystal clear on that point. When is this shindig anyway?” I used the casual term to ruffle his feathers.

“This shindig is in six weeks. We don’t have time to fuck around,” he scolded.

My eyes bulged. “Six weeks? That’s cutting it really close.” No wonder he was so uptight.

“Tell me something I don’t know. Suzette was supposed to plan it, but she totally dropped the ball. No pun intended. That’s why we need to work together to get it done.”

I wanted to point out that he’d already wasted time by being an asshole but doing so was moot. I made a note in my portfolio. “I’ll have Penny pull some invitation samples and we’ll get it done by the end of the week.” My pen tapped as I thought. “Was Brett serious about five thousand a ticket?”

“Yeah. The big rollers have no problem dropping that kind of cash. They write it off anyway,” he said without looking up.

Unbelievable. I couldn’t even imagine what that kind of wealth was like. Penny and I were definitely not attending the event. If anything, we’d be behind the scenes making sure everything ran according to Trent’s expectations. “How many does the ballroom accommodate?”

“Five hundred.”

I did some quick calculations. “That’s a long way from five million.”

He stopped spinning his pen and pointed it at me. “That’s why you’ll have to give a great presentation. If you pull on their hearts, the purse strings will open.”

“Me? Why would I do it? I’m a nobody. I can’t even afford to attend the event.”

“Buzzz. Wrong answer. You’re Gianna Romano, event coordinator extraordinaire.”

I frowned. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Not at all. If you want to be somebody, then you need to convince them you are. Ever heard the phrase fake it ’til you make it?”

I nodded.

“Being successful has as much to do with your mindset as your actions. It’s not enough to want it, you need to believe it. You walk the walk and talk the talk.”

I was stunned. Speechless. No one had ever believed in me. My family. My friends. Even my ex-husband. They all thought I was overly ambitious. All my life I’d waited for someone to encourage me, and the person who finally did barely knew me. I didn’t know what to say.

The door burst open, and Tom stumbled inside carrying two white take-out bags. “Sorry it took me so long, Mr. Dorsey. They were super crowded, and your food wasn’t ready. I should have called it in sooner.”

Trent grabbed the bags. “It’s fine, Tom. Thank you. If you’d get a Diet Coke for Miss Romano, that would be great.”

“I’m on it.” He disappeared as fast as he’d arrived.

“You know what I drink?”

“I know more than your bra size, Gia,” Trent said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. Just when I thought he was taking me seriously, he had to go and ruin it. Reaching for one of the bags, I pulled out my Pad Thai and unwrapped a set of chopsticks. My stomach rumbled as the spicy aroma spread throughout the room. I cinched a shrimp between the sticks and shoved it in my mouth. My eyes closed as I moaned, savoring the flavors bursting on my tongue. “Mmmm. So good. Total foodgasm.” It’d been a while since I’d eaten Thai, absolutely too long.

A throat clearing pulled me out of the spicy-shrimp haze. Tom held out a twenty-ounce bottle. “Here’s your Coke, Ms. Romano.”

“Thank you.” He continued watching me as I swallowed from the bottle.

“That’s all, Tom,” Trent snapped. “Why don’t you take off for the day?”

“But it’s only four thirty. I’m still working on that report you wanted.”

“You can finish tomorrow. Shut the door on your way out.”

“Yes, sir.” The door closed with a soft click.

Trent dug into the other bag, pulling out his food. “Seriously? Are you trying to make the kid come in his pants?”

I held a hand over my lips as I swallowed. “Sorry. It’s so good.”

“Let’s focus on the event.” He twisted noodles around his chopsticks and shoved them in his mouth.

We worked for the next few hours, going over details, making notes, and creating a to-do list. I had no idea how we’d get everything accomplished in a matter of weeks. I was good, but not that good.

“I need a break.” I pushed away from the table and stretched my back. Sitting in one place for too long wasn’t my thing. I was a mover.

“Do you want to stop for the night?” Trent asked while loosening his tie and pulling it off. He folded it neatly on the table and undid the top button of his shirt. It was a normal man thing to do, but it sparked a fire in my belly.

I turned away from him and paced in front of the window, begging the sensation to go away. I kicked off my heels and wiggled my toes, working out the kinks. My feet were swollen and there was no way they’d fit back into my shoes. Trent raised an eyebrow as he watched me. I looked down at my painted toes and grimaced. “I should have asked if you cared if I took my shoes off.”

“It’s fine. I’ve seen your feet before, Gia.”

Yes, of course he had. He’d seen a whole lot more than my feet. There was that spark again. “Still, it was rude. We’re working.”

He chuckled. “Technically, we’ve been off the clock for almost two hours. We can quit if you want to.”

I shook my head. “I’m not a quitter. I’m here because I’m not afraid of hard work. You don’t need to coddle me.”

“If you were a quitter, you would have walked out the first day when you realized who I was. I’m not coddling you.” Trent unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his shirtsleeves up his forearms. A bit of ink peeked out from beneath the fabric. I’d noticed it the night we spent together but was too busy being completely satisfied by two men to discern what it was. I stared at him as heat crept up my neck at the memory. He cocked his head to the side. “What?”

I padded across the carpet in my bare feet, sat in the chair, and tucked one foot under my butt. “About that…”

“About what?”

I waved a hand in the air. “You know.” He looked at me blankly, making me explain myself. “What happened…” I motioned between us. “I don’t do stuff like that. It was my first night in Vegas… and… I shouldn’t have.”

Trent chuckled. “You’re allowed to do what you want. There’s no judgment on my part. I’m not sorry it happened. Are you?”

Was I? Now that was the question. It was the best sex of my life. I awoke sore and completely satisfied. Being with John so long, I’d forgotten what great sex was. By the end of our marriage, we were more roommates than husband and wife.

If I was being honest, waking to an empty bed was what bothered me the most. I mean, I knew what a one-night stand was, but I’d never had one before. I don’t know what I was expecting but replaceing myself alone at the end was disappointing.

“I told you I didn’t regret it. I just don’t like how awkward everything is.”

Trent inched his hand toward mine, the tip of his finger skimming the side of it. “That’s my fault. I didn’t know how to act when you showed up in the conference room. Throwing it in your face was wrong.”

My skin prickled from his touch. “Can we…”

“Am I interrupting?”

Trent slid his hand away as I jumped. My heart beat like a teenager that’d been caught making out in the back seat of a car. It was ridiculous. Nothing happened. Nothing was going to happen. Trent was my boss. I’d be smart to remember that.

He leaned back casually and stared at his brother. “You’re not interrupting at all. Miss Romano and I were going over plans for the fundraiser.”

So, I was back to being Miss Romano? Of course, I was. He’s your boss, I reminded myself again.

He’s your boss.

He’s your boss.

He’s. Your. BOSS! Pull it together and be professional.

“Is that so?” Hunter asked, lifting a brow.

I took in the room from his perspective. The empty take-out containers strewn across the table. Trent’s tie removed and shirt unbuttoned. My shoes left carelessly on the floor. My cheeks, I was sure were tinted red. It looked bad.

“Is there something you wanted?”

Hunter eased into the room despite Trent’s cool demeanor. “Just checking on my brother. Didn’t expect you to have company.”

“Miss Romano isn’t company. We’re working.” Trent held up my proposal with all its scribbled notes and X’s in bright red. I’d been so proud when I turned it in, but now it looked as pathetic as a fifth grader’s book report.

Hunter turned and smiled at me. “Of course, she’s a member of Mystique now. How are you liking Vegas?”

Why did I feel like this was a trick question? Surely, Trent didn’t tell him about our tryst. I pasted on a smile. “It’s been fine. I haven’t done much exploring yet, but I’ll get to it.”

“And the job?”

“It’s perfect. Everything I could have hoped for.” So, that wasn’t exactly the truth, but it seemed like the right thing to say under the circumstances.

“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way. I trust my brother is treating you well?”

Something was off. Very off. “Extremely professional.”

Trent tossed the pen he was spinning onto the table. “Are you finished with the inquisition? Miss Romano and I have a lot of work to finish.”

Hunter picked up a cardboard container from the table and tossed it in the trash. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your work,” he quipped. “And, Gia? I’d love to show you Vegas and all it has to offer. I think you’ll replace the amenities are quite pleasurable.” He straightened his tie and gave me a piercing gaze. “I’d enjoy watching you try to take it all in.”

I blinked. Did he proposition me? Chills ran down my spine. Both these men thought I was there solely for their amusement. I was a fool to think someone would actually take me seriously. “Do you mind if we call it quits for the night? I think I’m on overload.” I closed my laptop and gathered my papers without waiting for a reply.

Trent’s lips pressed into a firm line. “I seem to have lost my motivation as well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” I agreed. “Nice seeing you again, Hunter.” Brushing past him, I scurried down the hall and out the glass doors toward the elevator. I pushed the button frantically, begging for the car to arrive. When the doors opened, I stepped in on my bare feet and leaned against the wall.

What the hell was that?