Page 6 of Don't Bet On It
I didn’t mean to get handsy with her, but she had one of those voices that carried, and before I realized what I was doing, I’d slapped a hand over her mouth. “Can you not be so loud?” I hissed, annoyance finally taking over as I moved in tight with her against the wall. “All you’re missing is a bullhorn, and then you’ll be able to tell everybody here all of my secrets.”
Nothing about her sneer was apologetic.
Slowly, I lowered my hand, realizing that I’d invaded her space without permission and was acting like a world-class jerk. “Sorry.” I took a step away from her. “I didn’t mean to do that. I just… I…” Now, I was the one left grappling for words.
She pushed herself away from the wall, the same swagger I remembered from our teenage years on full display. “I knew you couldn’t have forgotten me.”
I didn’t want to smile—it didn’t seem like a good idea—but I couldn’t stop myself. “You’re definitely impossible to forget.” I wasn’t flirting, not even a little, but she’d always had a certain effect on me. It was hard to explain.
On one hand, she was beautiful and fun. She threw herself into things without thinking. She was the person who leaped before she looked. On the other hand, she was loud and brash. She had no problem drawing attention to herself. She also never backed away from a fight. Those were all things I was looking to avoid at present.
She held my gaze a beat longer, then allowed her shoulders to drop. Perhaps she wasn’t feeling antagonistic today. That boded well for me. “Why are you here, Ronan?”
“I work here,” I replied. How could she not understand that?
“Why? Your family is rich.”
I squirmed under her direct stare. “I don’t work for my family.”
“So I see.” She looked around, as if there was a clue to be plucked but she hadn’t yet found it. “I want to know why.”
“It’s none of your business.” That was true. This was none of her business.
Tallulah had never met gossip she didn’t want to spread, however. “Does the Stone family know that their rival’s son is working for them?” She had me, and she knew it.
“No, they don’t, and I would prefer they not find out.” I wasn’t going to beg, but my tone was pleading. “I’m not here as the son of Norbert Hawthorne. I’m here as a guy who doesn’t want to work for his family and needs to put some money away.”
That wasn’t the whole story. It wasn’t even close. It was enough to, hopefully, put Tallulah on her heels, however. Shedidn’t immediately respond, which gave me an opening. I opted to go on the offensive. “What are you doing here? Since when do you work at Stone Casino?” I looked over her outfit. “And why are you in the high rollers pit?”
Her body snapped ramrod straight. She still looked hot in that outfit despite her need to imitate a tree. “Don’t worry about it.”
Oh, there was a story here. I was certain of it. “Well, you seem to be worried about me. I thought I would return the favor.”
“That’s not necessary.” She averted her gaze.
“What’s not necessary?” Now—damn her—I was curious. “Why are you here? Last I heard you were working at one of those blender drink places down the Strip.”
“You were keeping tabs on me?”
“No.” I hadn’t been. Somebody mentioned it. Okay, maybe I walked past a few times to see if I could catch a glimpse of her. It was normal to be curious about somebody you went to high school with. It was human nature to want to see if they’d fallen up or down. With Tallulah, I never knew the answer to that question. Unlike the families of the other kids in our school—including mine—hers wasn’t well off. Her mother purposely picked a trailer park that put her in our affluent school district. It never felt as if she belonged, however. Not because her mother was poor or anything. Tallulah always looked as if she felt out of place. She hadn’t had a lot of friends except for…
That was when it hit me. “Olivia got you this job.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It wasn’t a question, though. My former classmate Olivia had married Zach Stone more than a year before. It was quite the story in certain circles. I’d been curious about the union myself. I’d seen them from afar since starting my job. They seemed genuinely happy.
“Maybe I got this job because I’m such a good worker,” Tallulah fired back.
I snorted before I could stop myself. “Yeah, that’s clearly it.” My eyes drifted to her cleavage—it was mesmerizing—but I forced them back up. “Nobody comes in fresh off the street and gets a job in the high rollers pit. It just doesn’t happen.”
Guilt flashed across her features. “Maybe I’m just that good.”
“Or maybe you have a best friend who can wheedle her husband into getting you a good job.”
Her eyes were narrow slits of annoyance. “I’m good at what I do.”
I gestured toward her wild hair. “You’re not supposed to wear your hair down to serve drinks and food.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I know that.” Immediately, she scanned the floor again, not stopping until she found what she was looking for. She darted forward to claim something dark from near my foot. “Ha!” She held up a scrunchie. “I was going to the bathroom to fix my hair when you unceremoniously dumped me into the wall.”
I glowered at her. “That was an accident.”
