I stepped out of the shower and looked into the half-fogged mirror at the same body that looked back at me every day since I showed up in Las Vegas. The man looking back at me was over six feet tall, sandy blonde hair, clear blue eyes, and broad shoulders. I knew so many people who said high school was their physical peak, but the body in the mirror had only gotten better with age. At thirty years old, the man looking back at me was only harder, stronger, and more buff than he was the day before.

I made sure of that, because in court, appearances mean something. Every day in Vegas has pitted me against the other giants who run the legal system in this desert oasis of vice and sin. I came here looking for both a challenge and fertile ground to put my roots down. I had no idea just how much I was going to get of both when I came here with a fresh, youthful face, but I’ve held my own each and every day.

Today was just another one of those days, and like all the rest, I planned to come out stronger by the end of it.

I toweled myself off quickly and dried my hair. A quick spray of subtle yet masculine cologne went just above the collarbone, and I pulled my boxers up my muscled thighs and over the thick shaft hanging between my legs.

I felt a ripple of pleasure as the fabric touched my cock, and I remembered the thrill of how the hookup from last night felt. That had been another benefit to moving out to Nevada. The scene for gay men was incredible, and in my line of work, I had no shortage of action.

That was one of the perks of spending so much time working with the Sentry Casino. It was a promising up-and-coming casino and hotel when I first showed up there at the request of the four CEOs, but now, five years later, it’s nationally acclaimed as one of the best LGBT-friendly casinos in the country. We tended to flock together, unconsciously or otherwise, and despite all the difficult cases that blew through the Sentry over the years, it made life pretty damn good.

I pulled on the rest of my suit piece by piece--a light gray fitted Kiton with a jet-black tie around my neck and matching shoes. I always made a good appearance, but it was especially important today.

It was the last day of the conference.

Vegas was already a popular destination for attorney conventions, so this wasn’t the first of these kinds of things I’d been to by a long shot, but each one was essential for networking. As convenience would have it, it was within walking distance of my penthouse.

In the grand scheme of things, I was still an up-and-coming contender. Thirty was young for an attorney and having the kind of prestige I wielded was something you could only get through either the best connections or raw talent. And when I showed up in Vegas, my only connections were the four CEOs of the Sentry, whose legal clout was so strong they’d have been dissolved a long time ago if not for me.

That made me enemies.

It was all smiles, of course. It had been all weekend, and it was going to be when I stepped in there this evening. The last day of the conference was less of an actual conference day and more of just a mixer to send everyone off before their flights. It was a big semi-annual conference that drew attorneys from all over the country, meaning there were still some people I hadn’t gotten to chat up yet, even though I’d been in attendance each day. There was no better time to chat up friends and rivals than when they were buzzed on complimentary champagne. It wasn’t my drink of choice, but you couldn’t expect scotch to be served at a conference unless it was a lot more exclusive.

Fifteen minutes later, I was walking through the hotel and into the conference rooms, where the schmoozing was already underway.

I recognized faces from some of the most high-profile cases in the state chatting with each other as if they were best friends, even though many of them had stood on opposite sides of their respective cases. Tensions could run high with relationships like that, but the conference vibe and a little to a lot of alcohol did wonders for that.

Eyes turned to me when I entered the room. They always did. I kept my head high, my shoulders back, and I let my steely gaze roll over the crowd as I strode in, looking as natural as though I’d been there all day. Modesty wasn’t something that had a place in this world. Every man and woman in the room knew that. It was just how we did things.

“And then there’s Rodney!” a familiar male voice said, cheery and tinged with tipsiness. A short man in a dark suit waved to me, beckoning me toward him with a rosy-cheeked smile. He was standing by a tall, thin man with darker skin and a middle-aged woman whose face revealed she was as sober as I was.

“Eric!” I greeted the short man, stepping over to the group and embracing him. “Look at you, you son of a bitch, you haven’t aged a day.”

“You’re telling me,” he said, stepping back and looking me up and down. “You look like you took some superhuman serum from a comic book.” The group laughed, and I put on a charming smile, looking to the other two. “Ah, where are my manners,” Eric said. “These are Avery Carter and Natasha Blanc, both in from Arizona. Avery’s in environmental law, and Natasha handles tort.”

“Pleasure,” Natasha said curtly as I shook hands with each of them. “Eric was just talking about a case you handled for the Sentry not long ago. I never thought arson and embezzlement could go hand in hand, but you learn something new every day.”

I rolled my eyes with a modest smile.

“Well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you the first rule of working in Vegas is that there are no rules,” I said. “The second rule is that there’s no justice. Eric, remember that assault case I told you about that got thrown out about five years ago? I hear one of those punks inherited the family business and has a manor being built in Bel Air.”

Eric gave a snort, and the two of us chuckled. Watching criminals and wannabes alike run free and without consequences was an ugly side of the career, but it was a big one.

“There’s no justice in the world,” Avery mused with a smile and a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eric said, “and if there were, Natasha here would be behind bars, am I right?”

“I’ve worked with settlements valuable enough to buy an apartment here on the Strip,” Natasha explained with a smug smile on her face. Torts were the wild west of law, mostly involving personal damages of some kind. Likewise, lawyers specializing in torts had to have minds like steel traps and nerves to match.

“That’s what the east coast crowd always says to warn people away from our neck of the woods,” Avery said. “If you ask me, if you’re not in it for the excitement, you’re in the wrong career.” We laughed again, and I clapped Eric on the shoulder.

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you all, but I need to make the rounds. Let’s catch up again in a few.”

“Go easy on them, Rod,” Eric said as the group gave me a brief wave. “Last day of the conference, don’t bruise anyone’s ego too much.”

“No promises,” I said as I left them.

I hadn’t made it more than twenty paces to the champagne table before I heard another booming voice greet me.

“Well, if it isn’t the Fixer himself!”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile before I turned around with a glass of champagne in hand to face one of the richest men in Vegas, Charlie Morris. He was a large man in a suit that befitted his status, and he had a young woman on his arm who looked half his age. At least he was predictable. Another man stood next to him, a redhead of about my height with thoughtful green eyes and a martini in his hand.

The Fixer was my nickname for some of the bigwig clients in Vegas who’d used me in the past. Bart, one of the CEOs at the Sentry, was the first one to give it to me, and it just kind of caught on. I had a reputation for being able to get anyone out of anything, by any means necessary. I wasn’t sure if I liked the ring to it, but it kept my client list fat and healthy, so I certainly didn’t mind it.

“Charlie, what are you doing here?” I greeted him with a laugh as a big arm drew me into a hug. “I don’t recall you going to law school, unless you’ve decided to open a private one.”

“Not a bad idea,” he said with a loud laugh that could be heard all around the room. “But no, I’m here because Stacy here is pre-law at the U of N, and I thought she would appreciate a tour around her future peers.”

Stacy, a pretty young thing with curly blonde hair and sparkling eyes, gave me a cunning smile and a wink as she hugged Charlie that told me she might genuinely be someone to look out for in a few years’ time, despite the fact that Charlie thought he was treating her like a show dog.

Being able to read threats and potential was another side of the job that I took special pleasure in.

“Well then, I hope you’re finding everything you hoped for here,” I told Stacy with a polite smile. “If you want some experience, just follow Charlie around long enough, you’ll see more than any of those court dramas on TV.”

“Bah!” Charlie guffawed with a dismissive wave. “People are just jealous of success. Can’t handle a self-made man carrying his weight in the city. Speaking of, Rodney, have you met Andrew Sellers here?”

He gestured to the ginger, who stepped forward to shake my hand with a hawkish smile. “Call me Andy,” he said. “I’m with Southwestern First Bank.”

“Rodney Barrington,” I said with a nod. “I was wondering whether Southwestern was going to have its soldiers on the ground out here this weekend.”

“Never a dull moment,” Andy said, flashing me a smile. This was an interesting crossroads. Southwestern First was one of Vegas’s up and coming banks responsible for a lot of the new development in southern Nevada. Mostly condos, a few casinos and hotels, that kind of sector. I had plenty of experience with them, which was to be expected from any financial institution, if you were in corporate law. And corporate law was what drew attorneys to Vegas almost more than any other specialty.

They were new money, and the way things were looking, they were going to keep on growing over time. And if they were tied up with the likes of Charlie, that meant they were making inroads in shady directions. Behind all the smiles and polite hugs, Charlie Morris was a criminal with mafia ties. People like him were unavoidable in Vegas. When I took the Nevada bar exam, I knew that was practically the cost of admission for working in the city. But if Southwestern was working with Charlie, that meant a lot of possibly interesting avenues were about to open up.

“They’re backing some new land development on the north side of the city,” Charlie explained before taking a deep drink of the champagne I handed him from the table. “Resorts that are going to put Aspen to shame, mark my words.”

“You might have a hard time competing with them for skiing,” I mused with a mild smile, and Charlie rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean, you big bastard.”

As we chatted about Charlie’s plans for what sounded like a handful of run-of-the-mill, overpriced hotels, my peripheral vision caught sight of someone approaching our group. I didn’t break eye contact with whomever I was speaking to, so I didn’t look over immediately. All I sensed was that it was a tall man of about my build, possibly a bit taller and just as well dressed. That alone should have been enough to get my attention, because if someone like that was headed over here, he was planning on talking to me, most likely.

As soon as Charlie finished speaking, I let my eyes flit over to the newcomer.

And I nearly dropped my drink.

The man striding toward me wasn’t just anyone. I knew him. I’d remember that face anywhere. He was indeed about two inches taller than me, and his green eyes were more vibrant than a botanic garden. He had thick, dark hair and a rugged face, with five o’clock shadow that had always seemed to spring back just minutes after shaving with a new razor. Better yet, the years had only made him look even more gruff and handsome. My heart pounded against my will, the kind of fluttering that could only ever happen when you laid eyes on a specific kind of person--a crush I could never act on.

It was Hudson North, the only straight guy to hold my attention for longer than I would have liked. The years since college had been very good to him. He was striding toward me with purpose in his eyes like I’d never seen before.

Hud had been my rival all the way through Harvard. From the moment we saw each other in class, we were butting heads and clawing away at each other for the top of the ladder. He had a sharp mind and a personality I might have gotten along with well, but back then I was twice the gunner I am today. Nevada is progressive, but young lawyers still have to punch through a lot of the prejudices of the old guard. Given that I had been out and proudly gay since high school, I had to put on a cold face to rise above those prejudices from my older mentors, and I didn’t let my guard down around anyone, much less the likes of Hudson.

But that wasn’t the only history between me and Hud. I wondered whether he was planning to let bygones be bygones, and how much the man had changed in so many years gone by.

That was the last thought on my mind before he reached our group.

“My God,” I said, putting on a smile, “I never thought I’d-”

CRACK.

Hudson’s fist connected with my jaw so hard that the whole room might have heard, and I hit the ground, taken by complete surprise.

Everyone around us was stunned to silence as my head spun, jaw throbbing in pain from the sucker punch, and I cracked my eyes open to look up at Hud, who was looming over me with a smug, satisfied look on his face as he rubbed his knuckles.

“I’ve been waiting too long for that,” Hud said, chuckling. “Nice to see you, you son of a bitch.”

And with that, Hud turned and walked out the building before I could even roll onto my feet and push myself up. I staggered as I did, and Andy helped me to my feet as I stared after him, glaring daggers at his back and feeling hot blood trickling down my face to stain my shirt.

“Guess you’re right, Andy,” I grunted as I felt my jaw, looking at the red on my fingertips and spitting into a napkin. “Never a dull moment.”