curls my toes. Which is a problem. A really serious problem.
“Who does get to make that decision, if not me?” he demands. “This is my place.”
I refrain from saying what we both already know. That the Atlantis is his father’s place and while he might be the prodigal son at the moment, this will always be the hotel that Richard Caine built.
“I’m not saying you can’t run the place by whatever rules you want. I mean, they’re good rules. But men with money are notorious assholes. It comes with the job description.”
He cocks a brow at me. “Oh, really?”
“Yes, really. Present company perhaps excluded.”
“Only perhaps?”
“I’m reserving judgment until I have a few more factors.”
He nods like I’m making perfect sense when really, I’m not even sure what it is I’m saying. I’m trying to be tough here, trying to stay in control. After all, falling for a rich guy—a casino owner, for God’s sake—is so outside the boundaries of my ten year plan that I can barely begin to fathom that I’m here, in his office, eating pizza and verbally sparring with him when I should be grabbing a bag of chips in the employee break room.
“All I’m saying is you can set the boundaries for what kind of behavior you expect. You can even enforce it. But if they don’t like the rules, they’ll find another casino to drop their twenty million dollars at and you’ll lose your whales—and a big fat portion of your bottom line.”
“I appreciate your concern,” he tells me. “I do. But I’ve got a pretty good handle on the Atlantis’s bottom line. And if it needs to take a hit for a while in order to protect my employees, then I’m perfectly okay with that.”
“Are you even for real?” I demand. “Nobody actually says things like that.”
“I do. And more, I mean them.” He reaches over and pours me some more of the sparkling lemonade I like to drink when I can’t imbibe.
“What have you been doing in the ten years you’ve been gone? Living in fantasy land? Real life doesn’t work that way.”
“I was chief financial officer of one of the largest charitable foundations in the world. And real life works however you want it to work.”
“Yeah, right. If that was the case—” I break off before I say too much. But no wonder he’s so naïve. He’s spent years working for a charity while I’ve…I’ve lived my life doing pretty much the complete opposite.
But Sebastian’s not about to let me get away with leaving my thought unfinished. I can see it in the predatory gleam in his eyes and the rigid set of his shoulders long before he prompts, “If that was the case…?”
I scramble for an answer that will satisfy him but will still let me keep my secrets. “If that was the case, I wouldn’t spend my nights in four inch heels, fending off men with more money than manners.”
“You know, you don’t have to do that.”
Warning bells go off all over the place and I find myself watching him warily. “What does that mean?”
“It means this is a casino. There are other jobs you can do.”
“Not that pay me a few hundred dollars a night in tips. And, for the record, I don’t need you to swoop in on some white charger and fix my life for me. I’m doing fine on my own.”
“You absolutely are.”
He sounds perfectly sincere when he says it, but I still search his face for any sign of ridicule or sarcasm. I can’t find any, but that doesn’t mean I trust him. He might be all pro-employee rights, but he’s still a rich guy with an Ivy League education. I went to school with a bunch of them—I know the type. And none of them would believe that working as a cocktail waitress in a casino is a job worth fighting for.
Sebastian takes another sip of his beer, watching me over the rim of his glass. “You don’t believe me.”
“I don’t
not
believe you. I’m just trying to figure out how much of the bullshit you spout you actually believe.”
“Most of it,” he tells
“Who does get to make that decision, if not me?” he demands. “This is my place.”
I refrain from saying what we both already know. That the Atlantis is his father’s place and while he might be the prodigal son at the moment, this will always be the hotel that Richard Caine built.
“I’m not saying you can’t run the place by whatever rules you want. I mean, they’re good rules. But men with money are notorious assholes. It comes with the job description.”
He cocks a brow at me. “Oh, really?”
“Yes, really. Present company perhaps excluded.”
“Only perhaps?”
“I’m reserving judgment until I have a few more factors.”
He nods like I’m making perfect sense when really, I’m not even sure what it is I’m saying. I’m trying to be tough here, trying to stay in control. After all, falling for a rich guy—a casino owner, for God’s sake—is so outside the boundaries of my ten year plan that I can barely begin to fathom that I’m here, in his office, eating pizza and verbally sparring with him when I should be grabbing a bag of chips in the employee break room.
“All I’m saying is you can set the boundaries for what kind of behavior you expect. You can even enforce it. But if they don’t like the rules, they’ll find another casino to drop their twenty million dollars at and you’ll lose your whales—and a big fat portion of your bottom line.”
“I appreciate your concern,” he tells me. “I do. But I’ve got a pretty good handle on the Atlantis’s bottom line. And if it needs to take a hit for a while in order to protect my employees, then I’m perfectly okay with that.”
“Are you even for real?” I demand. “Nobody actually says things like that.”
“I do. And more, I mean them.” He reaches over and pours me some more of the sparkling lemonade I like to drink when I can’t imbibe.
“What have you been doing in the ten years you’ve been gone? Living in fantasy land? Real life doesn’t work that way.”
“I was chief financial officer of one of the largest charitable foundations in the world. And real life works however you want it to work.”
“Yeah, right. If that was the case—” I break off before I say too much. But no wonder he’s so naïve. He’s spent years working for a charity while I’ve…I’ve lived my life doing pretty much the complete opposite.
But Sebastian’s not about to let me get away with leaving my thought unfinished. I can see it in the predatory gleam in his eyes and the rigid set of his shoulders long before he prompts, “If that was the case…?”
I scramble for an answer that will satisfy him but will still let me keep my secrets. “If that was the case, I wouldn’t spend my nights in four inch heels, fending off men with more money than manners.”
“You know, you don’t have to do that.”
Warning bells go off all over the place and I find myself watching him warily. “What does that mean?”
“It means this is a casino. There are other jobs you can do.”
“Not that pay me a few hundred dollars a night in tips. And, for the record, I don’t need you to swoop in on some white charger and fix my life for me. I’m doing fine on my own.”
“You absolutely are.”
He sounds perfectly sincere when he says it, but I still search his face for any sign of ridicule or sarcasm. I can’t find any, but that doesn’t mean I trust him. He might be all pro-employee rights, but he’s still a rich guy with an Ivy League education. I went to school with a bunch of them—I know the type. And none of them would believe that working as a cocktail waitress in a casino is a job worth fighting for.
Sebastian takes another sip of his beer, watching me over the rim of his glass. “You don’t believe me.”
“I don’t
not
believe you. I’m just trying to figure out how much of the bullshit you spout you actually believe.”
“Most of it,” he tells
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