Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Fuck, she doesn’t deserve that.
And then the need to fix it takes over, way stronger than my desire to do the right thing for her. Or maybe I’m just a greedy bastard who’s pretending he gives a fuck about anybody but himself.
I can’t stay away from Sondra Simonson.
I pick up my phone and call security. “I need the location on an employee.” All of our employee name tags have tracking devices and the information on where they are in the casino is easy to pull up. It’s also recorded so we know where everyone’s been in the case of an incident.
“Sure thing, Mr. Tacone, who are you looking for?”
“Name is Sondra Simonson. She works in housekeeping.”
A pause. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tacone, it looks like she’s off-premises.”
Fuck. She quit.
I told her to. I shouldn’t feel like flipping my desk over or heaving my chair through the glass door to my balcony.
She’s smart. She heeded my warning.
Just to be sure, I hang up and call the manager of housekeeping. “I’m looking for one of your employees—Sondra Simonson. Is she working today?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tacone, she said she wasn’t feeling well. I let her go home early. I sent Jenny up to clean the penthouse suites. Sondra told me she finished with yours—was that not true? Is there something else you need?”
She didn’t quit. She went home sick.
“No, everything’s fine.” I end the call and stare at my phone. The idea of Sondra being upset enough to leave has me ready to fly out the door to chase her down. But I’m also relieved she didn’t quit.
What does it mean?
Is she thinking about coming back here? After I made it plain what would happen? Fuck.
I really don’t want to dim her light. But I should assuage any hurt feelings.
I call down to the casino florist. “I need three dozen roses delivered off-site right away.”
“Of course, Mr. Tacone. Where are they going?”
I grab Sondra’s file and read off her address.
“Color?”
“You pick.”
“Note on the card?”
I hesitate. What in the hell do I say? I blow out my breath. “How about… Can I take you to dinner tonight? And sign it, Nico.”
“Perfect, Mr. Tacone, I’ll send them out straight away.”
“Thank you.”
I hang up.
What am I doing? Now I want to take her to dinner? After I just tried to set her free? Fuck. I’m so fucked in the head over this woman, it’s embarrassing.
I have a full-on infatuation with a woman I will likely destroy.
Sondra
I take the bus home. I didn’t stop to tell Corey I was leaving because I need to get my head on straight. I didn’t want to answer her questions about what happened and what I’m going to do.
I should quit.
He made it plain I should quit.
He also made it plain how much he wants me. Not just a one and done, either.
He wants to keep me.
At least that’s what I read into his threats.
And damn if that doesn’t appeal to me on some level. I’ve never had a man be so into me. I’ve been the girl who was easy to walk away from. Easy to cheat on.
And so part of me thinks I should defy him and just show up tomorrow. Dare him to make good on his threat.
But the rest of me can’t take another emotional roller coaster. The possession and then rejection.
I get off at my stop and walk the six blocks to Corey’s townhouse.
And…fuck. Dean’s car is there. I was really hoping to have the place to myself. I literally have not been alone since I moved to Vegas. Not unless you count when I’m cleaning rooms.
And if I ever needed some alone time, it’s now.
I almost keep walking. But it’s hot out. And I want a shower. I need to wash Tacone off of me. Wash this day off me.
I walk in and find Dean on the couch watching television. His face lights up with a lazy grin. “Hey, Sondra.”
Okay, yeah. He sounds a little too happy to see me.
“Hey,” I mumble and grab a change of clothes from my suitcase beside the sofa. I walk past him to the bathroom.
He gets up and follows me. “I didn’t think you’d be home today.”
I ignore him and shut the bathroom door. Prick. I turn on the shower and let the water run. Maybe I’m being bitchy, but it’s getting harder and harder to even be polite to Dean. I don’t like the guy and he’s giving me the creeps.
I take off my clothes and get in the shower, but any satisfaction I was hoping to derive from the water therapy is completed cancelled out by the knowledge that Dean is just beyond the door.
If there had been a peephole, he’d probably look through it.
Gross.
I end up cutting the shower short and hustling to get dressed. Maybe I will take that walk. It’s like I can sense the omnipresent Dean energy seeping through the door. I seriously need some space.