Page 56 of Triplet Babies for the CEO

Chapter Twenty

Brody

Tasha refuses to pick up her damn phone, and I’ve had enough.

The waiting, the wondering, it’s driving me insane.

I stare at my packed schedule for the next week, meetings, site visits, contract negotiations. All of it seems irrelevant right now.

I completely clear my calendar with a few swift taps, delegating the rest to Josh.

It’s time to take matters into my own hands.

I keep replaying that conversation with Josh at the bar, the careless way I spoke about Tasha, like she was some complication I had to manage.

What if she had overheard that?

My chest tightens with regret.

How could I have been so stupid?

If she heard any part of that conversation, no wonder she ran.

I grab my phone, my fingers flying as I book the best suite I can find on The Strip. It’s the Presidential Suite. It offers luxury, privacy, everything to make this right. My ticket for the next flight to Vegas is booked in a heartbeat.

I don’t even bother packing a bag.

All I need is to find her, talk to her, make her understand.

Tasha needs to know that I’m not letting her go. Not like this.

The drive to O’Hare is a quick blur. My mind races faster than the car slipping through traffic.

I shoot off a quick message to Dana, asking her to take care of Penny and the cattle while I’m gone. I pull into the airport’s secure parking garage, parking the car and rushing toward the terminal.

I just make it through security and boarding with seconds to spare, collapsing into my seat, my heart still pounding from the sprint.

As the plane takes off, I pull out my phone and start scrolling through social media, searching for Jasmine’s profile – Jazzmyn is her handle.

Her posts are a mix of bright lights, skimpy costumes, and behind-the-scenes shots of life as a dancer in Vegas and the realization sinks in: this is where Tasha is hiding.

Jasmine’s profile is filled with tags and check-ins at nightclubs and bars that dot the strip. I can picture Tasha, working behind the bar or serving drinks, trying to blend into the shadows of this city.

My gut churns. I’ve got to find her.

Vegas is a big place, but if Jasmine’s working in one of these clubs, Tasha can’t be too far away. The flight is just over two hours, but it feels like an eternity sitting there stewing and as soon as we touch down, I’m the first one off the plane.

I make a beeline to the car rental counter where they’ve got a luxury sports car already waiting for me. The engine growls tolife as I pull out of the airport garage, the thrill of horsepower beneath my hands a small comfort to the turmoil in my chest.

Vegas unfolds before me like a glittering illusion, the skyline a mix of neon signs and gaudy billboards.

The Strip is chaos, crowded with tourists, flashing lights, and traffic jams.

But none of that matters to me. I just need to find Tasha.

Revving the engine, I weave through traffic, my eyes darting between the road and the map on my phone. Everywhere I look, there’s temptation: casinos, clubs, strip joints.

I can’t help but wonder if this is the kind of life Tasha’s thrown herself into, trying to make a fresh start, and I tighten my grip on the wheel, determination hardening into steel.

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