Page 19 of The Devil's Playground

He asks me if I want to be called Nicolette or if Nic’s okay. Considering Kieran insisted on Nicolette—when I wasn’t his darlin’—I jump at the chance to be Rolls’s ‘Nic’. Then, feeling a little emboldened, I ask him if I should call him Rolls.

He smiles, flashing me blinding white teeth. “Royce, if you don’t mind.”

My smile is hesitant, but I manage to muster one. “Okay. Royce.”

He asks me likes. My interests. My hobbies. He seems amused when I admit I love Broadway musicals, but then tosses out that he’d love to take me to see one with him some time. I know he’s just trying to put me at ease so that I’m comfortable with him when it comes to spending the rest of the night together, and I keep that in mind throughout the entire meal.

When it’s over, he pays—of course—before bringing me to his car. I’m surprised that it’s this basic black sedan, though I regret being judgy in my next breath. If he can afford to throw ten grand away on a card game, he’s not hurting. The car is discreet because, in Springfield, the big players don’t need to be flashy.

It’s just… I keep forgetting that Royce is one of them. He’s so… so nice, and I force myself to remember that Kieran was when I met him, too… and that all he wanted was me to fuck him. Royce won me in a bet. He won me for sex. In a dangerous world like the one I spent too long in, that’s not unusual. I’m back in it again, involved with syndicates and mobsters and men who think a woman will do anything for a dollar—and I will, won’t I?

It’s just sex, I tell myself. When he asks me for my address, then drives me to my place, I’ve just about convinced myself of that. He’s a man with needs, I’m an available woman who already sold herself once, and it’s just sex.

Pulling up in front of my house, I’d be lying if I wasn’t looking forward to what was going to happen next. I’ve been attracted to Royce McIntyre since he interviewed me, but I knew better than to ever think I had a chance with him. Especially when I came to Springfield, knowing that I was tempting fate that Kieran might find me again… I didn’t want a relationship with anyone, but I thought… who knows? Maybe I could have made an exception for him. I definitely thought there was a spark.

But when he was cool and aloof, treating me like every other employee, I knew I had imagined that spark. It wasn’t in the cards for me—until a fateful game of cards meant that it might be.

I was wrong.

Because, after a whirlwind night filled with questions about myself, and answers about why Royce refused to let Miles Haines win that card game, I understand that it wasn’t about sex for him.

And he proves that by pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek before getting out of the car, then opening my door for me. After helping me out, he walks me to my house, waits for me to head inside on my own, and I spent the rest of my night wondering what the fuck just happened.

I don’t have work the next night, and considering my head is still spinning at what happened the last time I was at the Playground, that was a good thing.

At Rolls—Royce’s insistence, I go to the bank that morning and deposit the suitcase of cash I gave me. I only hesitated for a moment since I only got the money because I agreed to a night with Miles Haines and there was no denying that, by ‘night’, he meant sex. It wasn’t the act of agreeing to exchange money for my pussy that had me feeling guilty. Oh, no. It was that I had a briefcase full of money and, though I would have willingly gone to bed with Royce McIntyre if that’s what he wanted, that’s obviously not what he wanted.

He was rescuing me from Miles Haines. He admitted as much over dinner. I might have willfully ignored the warning signs—that Haines insisted that I fuck him off of Sinners property, that he was willing to pay ten grand to do so—but Royce laid it out very clear.

Miles hurts people. For his own pleasure, he would’ve hurt me and not even thought twice about it. He wanted rough sex, and I was the perky blonde Barbie doll he thought he could take it from… for the right price.

Until Royce saved me. By wagering his ten grand against the night that I agreed to spend with Miles, when he flipped that six of clubs, I ended up with the money and a night with “Rolls” Royce McIntyre.

I should’ve known better than to think he did it because he wanted to fuck me instead. Not only is he my boss, but I’m pretty sure I’m not his type. Besides, getting involved with a Sinner is a bad, bad idea. I should just be grateful for the cash and being let out of my agreement to sleep with someone for it.

That’s how I justify depositing the money into my account. I need it, and I would have earned it if I had to. Way I see it, I technically did spend the night with Royce. So we went to dinner instead of upstairs to the Playground’s private rooms. I upheld my end of the bargain. That was the end of it, right?

Yeah… not even close.

I’m friendly with a couple of the girls at the Playground. I wouldn’t say that any of them are my actual friends—Kieran never let me have any, and my introverted nature stems from that, I guess—but we chat. Gossip. Talk between tables.

I’m only an hour into my first shift back at the Playground when it becomes obvious that the topic of conversation among the staff is Royce and me. They all want to know what went down after the poker game ended and the Sinners’ underboss whisked me away.

I explain to three different waitresses that we had dinner before I stop trying. They all give me a knowing look—coupled with jealous eyes—that tell me they think I’m lying.

I wish I was.

It’s Britney who finally believes me when I tell her that the most I got was a respectful peck on the cheek from the gorgeous mafia man. Her reason, of course, is simple—and cuts me to the quick.

“Oh, sweetie, I knew that that would be it. Not for nothing, but you wouldn’t be the first girl who thought she might catch Rolls’ eye. But he’s not like that. If we work at the Playground, he won’t bother us. No matter how much we wish he would.”

That makes sense. He was so careful with me last night. “I guess he’s picky when it comes to his bed partners.”

Britney giggles. “Oh, honey, no. Where did I give you that idea? Since I’ve been working at the Playground, I’ve never seen a man more run-through. It’s just us girls he won’t hook up with. But the women who pay his bills? He’s more than happy to take them upstairs.”

Oof. I… I kinda wish I didn’t know that.

The worst part is that Britney isn’t even exaggerating. Though I’ve only been working here for three months, I’d be lying if I wasn’t curious about the man in charge of my job. Set aside the fact that he’s gorgeous and offered me the chance to make more money. It was easy to develop a crush, especially when I knew he was a safe target to have a crush on. There was no chance of anything happening between us, but a girl can dream, right?

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