Chapter Fourteen

Troy

After Joslyn runs out of IHOP with her phone glued to her ear, confusion threatens to drive me insane. I can’t read her – she’s like a goddamned book in a foreign tongue – and every interaction leaves me unsure of where we stand. I’ve never met someone so feisty and tempestuous – not to mention surprising – in my whole life, and I don’t quite know how to handle it.

Who are you fooling, Cass? You can’t handle her. Best you just chalk this one up to a lust coma and move on with your womanless existence.

I tuck Joslyn’s cash away for the next time I see her and foot the bill. Nixon will be pleased. I consider his reaction as I stroll out into the hot Vegas sunshine. Joslyn and I had breakfast together, and we didn’t argue once – that has to be some kind of leadership sign for sure. But as much as I want to tell myself that I’m only getting along with Joslyn for Nixon’s sake, deep down I know that’s not true.

Part of me still wants to impress her. To turn her head and heart. Because her good opinion is rarely bestowed, so it’s worth more.

And I wonder if Joslyn feels the same way. I head to the Armónico and spend the day walking the floor, making sure no one counts cards or sneaks in their own dice. It’s funny, really. Catching thieves and cheaters at work used to be my favorite pastime. I never found it boring. But today, my heart’s not in it. My mind keeps drifting to Joslyn, and whatever was so important that she had to run off in the middle of breakfast like that.

Whatever was more important than me.

“Hey, Troy, got a second?”

Turning around, I see Nixon standing behind me. It’s rare to see him on the floor in the middle of the day. Most of the time he’s holed up in his office, or out in meetings.

“Yeah,” I say, frowning. Shit. I hope he’s not going to chastise me about Joslyn, I think as I follow Nix into the exec elevator that leads to his office suite. Once inside, he shuts the door, and I flop down in the chair across from his desk.

“So, Troy–”

“Look, whatever she told you, I swear, we’re getting along.” I pop up again, and pace his office, unwilling to sit down in the face of my ready defense. “We’ve been running in the mornings together, and we even got breakfast together today. Everything’s good with us. I promise.”

Nixon gives me an amused look. “Troy, what are you rambling on about?”

I narrow my eyes, realizing I just spilled my guts in an unnecessary soap opera episode of sex gone wrong. “Joslyn. I thought you brought me in here to chew me out.”

Nixon laughs and rears back. “No. Although I am pleased to hear that you’re getting along with her. I know she can be tough, but she’s the best fitness instructor I’ve ever hired.”

“Yeah.” I think of Joslyn’s fit body moving passionately against mine. “I know. She’s really…fit.”

There’s an awkward pause and Nixon clears his throat. “So. First of all, nothing said in here can leave this room, you understand?”

I nod solemnly. I’m almost tempted to salute, but based on Nixon’s tense expression, I don’t dare.

“I don’t want to get your hopes up – at least, not yet – but it looks like Reagan and I are well on our way to taking over the Mona Lisa,” Nixon says. “I think we can get the votes from the Nevada Gaming Commission, and that’s the big step we need.”

“That’s good. When?”

“Soon. I just wanted to let you know in case Charles or one of Dante’s other goons starts sniffing around.” He breaks into a grin. “I know I shouldn’t be celebrating prematurely, but want a drink?”

Before I can say yes or no, Nixon pulls out a bottle of Talisker from behind his desk and pours a little bit into two highball glasses. He passes one to me, and after a second, we clink glasses.

“To the future,” Nixon says with a little smirk. But I know him better than most. Inside, he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Soon, the Caldwell family is going to be running Las Vegas. Nothing and no one will be able to stop me. And I hope you’ll still be here. By my side, just like always. Just like when we were kids.”

“Of course.” I tilt my head back and pour all of the smoky scotch into my mouth at once.

“Well, we’re on our way, at least.” He ignores my ill treatment of the expensive liquor.

By the time I leave Nixon’s office, I’m grinning too. Between the news Nixon just gave me about the Mona Lisa and the way things have been going with Joslyn, I know that life is moving in the right direction. When I get back to the floor, Jack beckons me over with a flick of his wrist.

“Hey. There’s some woman here for you, it’s that hot chick who teaches in Nixon’s gym.”

“Joslyn?”

Jack shrugs and gives me a big lazy grin. “I don’t know her name, man. How could I remember that little piece of unnecessary information with the rack on her?”

Something snaps inside me, and I want to punch Jack in the face. Wondering at my own base reaction, I roll my eyes. I already think of her as mine. That needs to stop. “For the head of pit security, you don’t pay much attention to detail. Where is she?”

Jack frowns. “She left, actually. She just asked me to give you this.” He hands me a slip of paper, folded up into a sweaty rectangle. “Is this like junior high? Is she asking you to check ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to the ‘do you like me’ question?”

I narrow my eyes and rip open the paper, holding it at an angle so Jack can’t see. Why the hell didn’t she just send me a text? What could be so important that she needed a personal meeting? She’s going to tell me to go fuck myself. Well, I won’t let her.

T – come over immediately. – J

“Well?”

“None of your business.” I crumple the paper and shove it deep in my pocket. “I need the rest of the day off.”

Jack shrugs. “Your paycheck, buddy. I’m not the boss, you are.” He punches me in the shoulder and strolls away, whistling under his breath. “Enjoy yourself, Don Juan.”

I can’t put a finger on why, but something about Joslyn’s note settles a pile of unease into my gut. As I leave the Armónico and head to the parking garage, I realize that it’s not like her at all. Joslyn always has her phone on her – she’s even returned texts while running before – and the note makes me wonder if something is seriously wrong. By the time I get to her house, my stomach is tangled in a web of anxiety.

As soon as I pull into the driveway, Joslyn opens the front door. She looks like a mess – her dark curls spring loose from a bun on top of her head, her tanned skin looks pale and sallow, and streaks of red mar her bright blue eyes.

“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath. “What the hell is going on?”

Joslyn doesn’t say anything, merely gives me a solemn look as she steps back to allow me inside. When I’m standing in her foyer, she glances behind me before shutting the door and locking it.

“Jos, come on – what’s going on?” I ask, touching her shoulder.

Joslyn nearly jumps at my touch. She’s fucking scaring me. “Sit down.” She leads me over to the couch, and I sit, trying not to think of the last time I was here. In her bed.

“What is it?”

Joslyn sighs. She reaches for a bottle of water and takes a long drink, swallows, then looks at me. I hold my breath. “It’s my dad,” she admits. “He’s being blackmailed by Dante Giovanetti.”

“What?” I narrow my eyes. “How do you know?”

“He told me,” Joslyn says in the same flat voice. “That’s why I left IHOP. Dad called, said he needed to talk to me, and then told me all of this crazy shit. I get the impression he’s been in Giovanetti’s back pocket for years.”

“I don’t understand,” I say slowly as I try in vain to connect the dots. “What is going on, exactly?”

Joslyn bites her lip until it turns white. “Dad wants to retire from the Nevada Gaming Commission – he’s sixty-five this year – but Dante is putting tremendous pressure on him to stay put, even though the other voters on the board want him out. You know, they all want their own chance at his job. He’s been there for so long, I think people are starting to get bitter about it. He’s Chairman, you know.” She lifts a hand to her mouth and nibbles at her nails.

I didn’t know. But now, the kidnapping attempt makes complete sense. Her dad’s the most powerful man in Las Vegas according to casino owners and the mafia. And corrupt assholes live to take advantage of that. Even the most ethical can crumble under the pressure and step over the line into the dark side.

“That’s shitty,” I say. “But what does this have to do with you?”

Joslyn takes a deep breath, shuddering with the force of it. “He’s threatened my father. He keeps saying that if my father doesn’t do what he wants, he’s going to get to him through me. I’m an only child. My mom died of cancer back when I was in high school. We’re really tight, Dad and me.”

Fuck. I remembered looking directly into Dante’s right-hand goon’s eyes. I know for sure it was Charles who tried to nab Joslyn outside the Starbucks. “You mean Dante Giovanetti is threatening to hurt you?”

Joslyn nods. For the first time since meeting her, I realize how tiny she is. How fragile, in spite of her shredded physique. It’s all starting to make sense why she’s so tough. Why she’s dedicated her life to protecting herself by keeping herself and everyone around her in peak physical condition.

“Yeah,” Joslyn concedes. “And I think he’ll do it too. My father can’t protect me anymore, Troy. He’s getting older, and I have to protect myself. I’m an adult, you know. That guy who tried to grab me at Starbuck’s, it’s Dante’s evil reach come to life. I need to be on high alert. I probably shouldn’t even be alone.”

“I know.” It’s all I can say as I consider the possibilities and all the insider information I’m privy to. With only a few words, I could reassure Joslyn. All I’d have to do is tell her about Nixon and Reagan, and their plan to take the Mona Lisa from Dante. Then she wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

Stick a fork in Giovanetti, because that motherfucker’s done.

Crispy.

But as my mind races with thoughts about protecting Joslyn, Nixon’s words from earlier come crashing down on me. I can’t tell Joslyn anything. Not now, not when everything remains in the dark, still hidden. If I tell her, she could ruin everything for Nixon. Even though I’m starting to realize I have actual feelings for Joslyn, I can’t do that. Not to Nixon – not to the man who’s served as my blood brother, who’s always believed in me, even when I was at my lowest point.

Even when I didn’t have a chance to make something of myself.

Like a Phoenix, I rose from the ashes of abuse and poverty. But only with Nixon Caldwell’s hand up.

“Troy?” Joslyn asks in a shaky voice. “Are you listening?”

Looking at her, I feel an emotion flaring in my chest. I’ve never felt it before, so I’m not even sure what it is.

But that doesn’t mean I can tell her I have feelings. Not yet. Just a little while longer – and I’m sure Nixon and Reagan will act before Dante can even think about hurting Joslyn and her father.

“Yeah. I’m listening.”

“What do you think I should do?” Joslyn’s voice shakes under the strength of her fear. I don’t want to look in her eyes for another second, because if I do, I know I’ll have to tell her the complete truth.

“We stick together.” I can’t stop myself one second longer, so I pull Joslyn into my arms and hold her tight. “I’ll protect you. You’re not in this alone.”

It’s the kind of statement that just days ago would have elicited anger – and maybe even violence – from Joslyn. But instead, she melts against my chest and wraps her toned arms around my neck.

“Thank you,” Joslyn whispers. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

I nod, grateful she can’t see the guilty look on my face. “Of course. Always.”