Chapter Three
Arran performed his morning routine and made a few business phone calls. He knew his game was off, however, and realized there was a certain silver-haired blonde responsible. This was completely out of character for him. He’d have to resolve this before it interfered with his family’s investments; that simply could not happen.
Late that afternoon, he dressed very casually and went down to the bar. There were only a few guests there that time of the day. He feigned interest in a soccer game that was playing on the massive flat screen behind the bar.
Soundlessly, the doors from the kitchen parted and his vigilant eye picked up on Gabrielle’s entrance. She was carrying a shallow tray stocked with olives, lemons, limes, and other drink garnishes. The bar was obviously preparing for the night crowd to begin descending. Although the casino never closed, guests naturally followed their internal clocks and slept in late, hung out at the pool, and then filtered to the casino, shows, and bar in the evenings.
Gabrielle’s back was to him and as she slowly filled the various stations with her condiments, she kept her attention to what she was doing and didn’t look up. When she finally came close to him, Arran spoke up.
“I received your envelope, although it wasn’t necessary,” he began what he hoped would be a longer conversation.
Her head snapped up and she smiled. “I appreciate what you did for me. I know it was only due to you that I kept my job. Let’s just say a certain windfall came my way and naturally, I wanted to settle my debt.”
“You are most gracious,” he said and meant every word.
“Just the way I learned to do things. You never leave a debt unsettled.” She was arranging the glasses and he thought he could detect that she might be dawdling, just the slightest bit.
“Gabrielle, I was wondering whether I might ask your guidance in something?” he leaned toward her.
“What’s that?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
“I find that my business may require that I spend more time here in Las Vegas. While the hotel is fine for short stays, I thought I might purchase a more permanent abode.” He looked for signs of emotion to cross her face, but her expression remained impassive.
“Okay, are you looking for a house or a condo?” she asked.
“Oh, definitely a house,” he hastened to clarify. “I require a good deal of space and, of course, security. This would not be possible under a joint ownership.”
“That makes sense,” she answered, done with her chore and now standing with one hand on her curvaceous hip. Her face held a contemplative frown. “I have to admit that I’ve not lived here that long and don’t really have any recommendations. However, you could ask the concierge for a realtor referral.”
“I was hoping for somewhat of a more personal arrangement,” he began.
Her face was instantly suspicious. “No, I think you have me all wrong. I know some of the girls here are, well… offer escort service, but that’s not me.” She began to back away.
Arran’s hand reached out involuntarily, as if to hold her in check. “I beg your pardon. I did not mean to suggest that you were anything at all of that nature.” He breathed more gently when she stopped again. Intentionally, he lowered his voice now so she would have to come closer to hear. “I was looking to hire a personal assistant; someone who would select a location for me and oversee the necessary details of preparing it. I prefer a female because she may also serve as my companion at these business dinners – completely proper, I assure you. After our recent, well… transaction, shall we call it, I know you are a woman of great character and integrity. Therefore, I am extending an invitation to you to accept the position with a starting salary of, shall we say, two hundred and fifty thousand. Of course, I will provide transportation, wardrobe, etc. suitable for the requirements.”
Gabrielle’s head was cocked. “Why me? I don’t have the credentials for that kind of job,” she asked suspiciously.
Arran had anticipated this, though. “As I said, you proved your integrity. I require the utmost loyalty and confidentiality. This…” he swept his hand toward the gaming floor, “is hardly the place where those are easy to find.”
Gabrielle had to admit that he had a point. It felt too opportunistic, though, and her inner voice was telling her to go in the other direction. “I don’t think so, but I appreciate your asking.”
There was disappointment on his face but she wasn’t sure what motivated it. It didn’t matter. She had seen enough of these dark-skinned foreign zillionaires to know that they valued women lowly and had private jets at their disposal for get-aways. Although the money and benefits were unbelievable, she knew better. If it seemed too good to be true, it was.
“I am most disappointed,” he said. “You realize that in my country, women would kill to have that position?”
Gabrielle couldn’t help herself. “Perhaps that’s where you should look, then,” she returned saucily and headed back to the kitchen.
She busied herself there as long as she could. Eventually, Ben stuck his head through the door and called out, “We got tables out here.” She had no choice; her job was tenuous as it was. She needed to get out onto the floor and do what she was being paid to do.
She peeked through the doors and saw the sheikh was still in his seat, watching the television overhead. Doesn’t he have better things to do? she thought to herself. With a deep breath, she pushed through the doors and headed toward her tables.
The first table had a couple, both of whom looked very uncomfortable. The man was pleasant looking and in a suit while the woman kept swallowing and tapping her nails on the table. Honeymooners, Gabrielle thought to herself. He ordered a scotch and she a vodka collins. Just like I thought, she thought.
The next table was ringed with men. By the look of their clothes, she assumed they were businessmen, in town for a convention. Lots of these guys stayed at the cheaper motels on the edge of town but came in to the Bellagio for what it had to offer. They always looked out of place and played conservatively. They also always left dead broke.
The next table held a single man and as Gabrielle approached him, his back was to her. She moved to his side and laid down a cocktail napkin before him. “What can I bring you?” she asked.
“Hello, Gabrielle. I told you we’d meet again,” came the voice, and Gabrielle’s head jerked up as she saw who it was. Her worst fears were confirmed as she looked at the face of Carl Smithers.
“Get out of here!” she spat automatically in a hard whisper. Her hands began to shake and the nightmares from the past began to filter into her current reality.
“Oh, now that’s not too nice,” Carl grinned, his teeth were yellow and one was broken off.
“I said get out. I’ll… I’ll… call security!” she tried desperately.
“And what will you tell them?” he mewled in a cajoling tone. It was the same tone he’d used in trying to get her to slide her panties off. “You going to say your daddy is here?”
Gabrielle thought she would faint. She spun about without answering and headed back to the bar. Ben noticed her hands and looked to her for an explanation. “You okay?”
“The man at table eleven has had too much to drink. Cut him off!” she spat in a desperate voice.
Ben looked at the man and back at her. She was visibly shaken. “Consider him cut off,” he agreed without argument.
Gabrielle heaved a sigh of relief, picked up the tray with the drinks for the first two tables, and went off to deliver them. She thought she had pulled that off rather neatly. Carl would hang for a few minutes and once he noticed he wasn’t going to be served, he should leave. Or so she hoped.
None of this went undetected, however. A pair of dark brown eyes and raised black eyebrows had watched her carefully. Whether she liked it or not, he had already come to think of her as his own property. He was a man who looked out for his property. He glanced momentarily at Alahan who nodded very slightly. He would see to it Gabrielle wasn’t bothered again – at least not tonight.
Gabrielle continued to quiver with fear and the realization that she was no longer in hiding. Where can I go? she thought. She finished delivering the drinks and headed back to the bar. This time, however, she walked straight up to Arran. “Is that offer still open?” she asked.
“And of course,” he answered, trying to keep the satisfaction out of his voice.
“When do I start?