Page 40 of Selfie

What the hell does Spencer have up her sleeve?No way she got Tansy Haleen, or any celebrity chef, to cook a private dinner at a moment’s notice. I keep checking my phone, waiting for her to wave the white flag and admit defeat, but it’s been crickets.

The vehicle arrived at the airport right on time, and now we’re headed to God-knows-what. Is Spencer more well connected than I realized? I thought this request was a slam dunk for her failure. By now I should’ve received a text or email, full of profanities, criticizing me for my diva-like behavior. Instead, I’m counting down the minutes until I get to call Spencer’s bluff. Fuck, this is irritating. I don’t like feeling this way, like I might not have the upper hand.

“When’s the hotel going to be finished?” Shaylin asks.

“With divine intervention? One year.”

“So, when you factor in the inevitable fuckups and inclement weather—we’re talking at least two.”

She earns a genuine laugh from me. “You know your stuff. But I promise you, if we agree on a firm timeline, we’ll make it happen. I know how valuable your time is. I’ll move mountains to ensure we hold up our end of the bargain. And as far as your payment?—”

With a thick scoff, she holds her palms up. “Before you try to wow me with money, I’ll go ahead and tell you the only thing that will get me to agree to your proposal. I swear on my life if you say yes to it, I’ll sign paperwork tonight.”

“Careful, Ms. Colette. You’ll want your lawyer present to review all the fine print. I want to do everything by the book here.”

She points to my chest. “You invited me out tonight. Your people went through great lengths to get in touch. Isn’t this what you want?” She pauses to tug on her bottom lip with her top teeth. “Or did you have ulterior motives for this dinner?”

There’s nobody I can complain to about this.Oh, wah, Shaylin’s overtly hitting on me.If I had close buddies, they’d for sure punch me in the dick for passing up an opportunity of a lifetime.

“What’s the one thing?” I keep my eyes fixed firmly on hers. There’s no part of me that wants to savor a peek at her chest which is very exposed in her low-cut dress. Lately, I only fall victim to stolen glances around Spencer, which is another reason my assistant irritates me to high hell. She’s a snake charmer who has apparently learned to exercise some control overmy snake.

“I want an ownership stake in the hotel.”

I can’t hide my shock. “What?”

“Not for free,” she clarifies. “I want to be an investor.”

“You’re kidding.”

Her perky smile turns into a scowl. “You know what? I’m used to not being taken seriously, but my money is just as green as yours. I’m here to play.”

“Oh, hey now.” Risking being back within reach of her wandering hands, I hop over to the opposite chair right next to Shaylin. “That’s not what I meant at all. I would of course respect you as an investor. I just don’t understand why. Investments like this are heavy if you want an ownership stake, and it comes with a lot of risk. Your pay as a performer is guaranteed…and would be very generous.”

“I’m twenty-six, Nathan. But I’ve been doing this since I was sixteen. I’m already so exhausted. I’m not going to be able to shake my ass on stage forever. It’s time to think about branching out. I want to invest my wealth into something tangible that can take care of my kids, and their kids, and their kids’ kids.”

Smart girl. “I’ll run it up the ladder.”

Her talons clamp right back on my knee. “I thought you were at the top of the ladder.”

“This project is a collaboration with my dad. I’d like his insight on this.”

“Aw,” she coos. “I love me a daddy’s boy.”

Good grief.I’m relieved when the car finally crawls to a stop. I all but jump out of the Escalade and hold out my hand for Shaylin. I hope she takes my eagerness as chivalry and not just a desperate attempt to put some distance between us.

Still, the instant her bright pink stilettos hit the concrete, her arm is looped in mine. Viva isn’t embedded within a mainstream Vegas hotel, so it’s only a few quick steps from the curb to the front of the restaurant. The walk isn’t long, but it’s plenty of time for the hostess, waiting for us underneath the entryway arch, to see me arm in arm with Shaylin and draw all sorts of wrong conclusions.

My stomach swoops when I realize said hostess is Spencer. She’s dressed in all black and wearing an unmistakable frown at the sight of me and Shaylin.

“Good evening. I’m glad you two made it safely,” Spencer says in a sugary-sweet tone that doesn’t match the kicked-puppy expression on her face. “Ms. Shaylin, you look stunning.” She cuts me a look. “Mr. Hatcher…you’re here.”

Spencer has more poise than a seasoned ballerina, not appearing remotely starstruck by the pop legend on my arm. Speaking of which… I make an excuse to search my pockets for something and successfully detach myself from Shaylin.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Spencer, examining her scowl, that’s pointed directly at me, for any hint of nerves. I didn’t want it to go this far. I only wanted a text omission of failure. I don’t want to embarrass the poor girl in front of famous company.

“Tansy asked for my assistance, since we booked her onsuch short notice.I hope you don’t mind, I’ll be your server tonight. The restaurant isn’t technically open yet, but there’s one tableset for you in the middle of the dining room. Ms. Shaylin, there’s a very nice bottle of rosé on ice at your table, but can I get you anything else to drink?”

“You are so lovely.” Shaylin gives her a warm smile. Spencer looks just as surprised as I am when the pop princess grabs her by her shoulders and kisses both her cheeks. “I love rosé. That’s perfect.”

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