Page 67 of Russian Roulette
I collapse onto his chest, too exhausted to even breathe.
34
JADE
Seven has already left when I wake up the next morning. I wander into the living room, still half-asleep, and find Leroy in his regular spot on the sofa.
“Good morning,” I tell him.
“I took the liberties of ordering for you again.” He points to the coffee table that’s loaded heavy with food. “No need to go to a crappy Vegas buffet when you can make your own from room service.”
“Sounds good to me,” I say, sitting across from him.
I’m relieved he doesn’t mention seeing me come out of Seven’s room instead of the guestroom. I’m not up to answering questions I haven’t figured out the answers to yet. My intense attraction to all three men is confusing me and messing with my head.
“I could get used to this life,” Leroy says. “Sitting on the couch all day, ordering room service and watching television. I hope you don’t run off again, because this sure beats the hell out of sticking by Seven’s side every damn minute of the day.”
“Do you usually stay with him all the time?” I ask. “Sounds like employee abuse to me. Seven should give you time off to be with your family or girlfriend if you have one.”
“Oh, I have plenty of women. No worries in that department. Vegas is bursting from the seams with loose, horny women out for a quickie. You saw how they were last night. Every night’s a party for single men in Vegas.”
“Does Seven party every night?” I ask, frowning. “I’m sure he has women hanging all over him. Last night was an eye-opening experience for me in the life of the rich and famous. I was shocked how those women were throwing themselves at him.”
“No, all Seven wants to do is work, work, work,” he says. “He’s not a party animal. Seven lives for his job because he loves being an illusionist. It’s all he talks about. Drives me nuts most days. Sometimes he even calls the crew to come in for a rehearsal in the middle of the night if he wakes up with a new idea.”
“Does his crew enjoy working for him? I’ve always heard artistic types can be temperamental and moody.”
“Everyone in Vegas wants to work for Seven,” Leroy replies. “His show is one of the hottest tickets in town. We’ve come a long way since we were working the street corners for tips.”
“Seven told me how he found you,” I say. “Have you figured out how he does his tricks yet?”
He stops eating and grins at me. “I stopped trying because I prefer to be mystified. And it would hurt Seven’s feelings if he thought I’d figured out his tricks. Don’t tell him.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. Have you always lived in Vegas?”
“Yep, my Mama moved here back in the sixties. She started out as a flashy Vegas show girl, if you can imagine. She’s retired now, and I live with her on the outskirts of town. She needs me to take care of her.”
Why am I not surprised Leroy still lives with his mother?
“I guess that means you’ve been to all the different clubs and bars in Vegas?” I ask.
“Every single one of them. I know this town backwards and forwards. If there’s anything you want to ask me about Vegas, go ahead. I’m a walking, talking, Vegas encyclopedia. Plus, being in the security business means I get the inside scoop on everything.”
“What about the strip clubs? Are you familiar with them, too?”
He bursts out laughing. “What do you think? Many of the girls consider me a personal friend since I’m a regular. Nice gals, all of them. Lovely women. We have the most beautiful girls in the world working in the strip clubs here.” He gives me a curious glance. “Why? Are you hunting for a job? No offense, but you’re not the type. I mean that in the best possible way.”
“No! I wouldn’t make the cut as a stripper. I could never dance around on stage in the high heel shoes they wear. I was trying to find a friend of mine. Someone told me she might work in one of the strip clubs.” I shrug as if it’s no big deal. “It’s been a while, though. She’s probably long gone by now.”
“What does she look like?”
The only description I have of Natasha is from the Russian files I downloaded and translated. “She’s Ukrainian. You’re familiar with the type…tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, stunning.”
“That description fits at least a third of the strippers here. Is that all you’ve got to go on?”
“Yeah,” I admit, discouraged. For a moment there, I hoped he might help me.
“I can check around if you want me to,” he offers, sensing my disappointment. “I’ll ask some of the other security officers who go out clubbing every night. After midnight, this city starts jumping. They might’ve come across her.”
