Page 59 of Don't Bet On It
“He said he was.”
“Yes, well, I already talked to Olivia.” She looked smug. “I told her you didn’t want to give up your job.”
I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I made an impatient gesture with my hands. “Um, do you really think Zach is going to care about that?”
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “I do think that.”
“Why?”
“Because I told Olivia that your father can’t win, and she agreed. She’s going to handle Zach.”
I was thrown. “Why would you do that?”
She shrugged. “Because your father is an ass, and you deserve the chance to be able to do what you want with your life.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
I licked my lips, debating. “Do you think Zach will actually listen to her?”
“Oh, she’s carrying his big-headed baby. She’s going to have to push it through her loins.”
There was that word again. Loins. “And he’ll just capitulate to whatever she wants?”
“Yes, that’s how it works. He’s absolutely devoted to her.”
“How sure are you?”
“It’s a done deal.” She grinned at me. “Do you want to get a drink and vent about your dad?”
“Is that why you were looking for me?”
“Yeah, and I wanted to tell you not to worry. Olivia won’t let anything bad happen.”
Weirdly, I believed her. “I could get a drink.”
She beamed at me. “I thought you might say that. Let’s go. I know the perfect place.”
17
SEVENTEEN
We went to Le Central Bar. It was technically in the Paris Las Vegas casino and seemed like an outdoor bar. It wasn’t. The ceiling at the casino was painted in tacky fashion to emulate the Parisian sky, but it was one of my favorite spots in Vegas, for some ungodly reason.
“Really?” Ronan cast me a dubious look. “Why here?”
I shrugged and didn’t meet his gaze. “They have good drinks.”
He was quiet for a beat. “Why really?”
He read me well for a guy who had barely known me in high school and who I’d been actively trying to avoid for the better part of a week. “Because when I was little, my mother would meet her dates over there.” I gestured vaguely toward the Montecristo Cigar Bar.
He glanced in that direction, seemingly confused. “Why?”
I shrugged. “Because she seemed to think that it was classy to smoke cigars. I don’t know. That’s just where she liked to meet her dates.”
“And she took you on her dates?”
