Concealment (The Cassano Series Book 1) (3 page)

Victoria

One the bus ride home, I feel my phone vibrate against my leg through my purse, so I pull it out to answer.

“Hi,” I say, already seeing that it’s Reggie.

“Why the hell didn’t you call on break, and why are you answering now? Your shift isn’t over. I was gonna leave you a message.”

“Hello to you, too. I had an incident with a customer, so I wasn’t able to take a break.”

“Did you get fired already?”

“No, but I came close. I removed a man’s hand from my ass, but guess what?” I can’t help but smile.

“What?” he asks, exhaling a sharp breath. He worries about me too much.

“I met Adrian Cassano, and he moved me to another area. I don’t know what that means yet, but I never imagined I would come in contact with him this soon if ever.”

“I’m headed to your apartment. Since you’re off early, we can talk about it over dinner.”

Ending the call, I glance around and notice several creepy men staring at me. Thank goodness I now have a locker, so I can change at the hotel.

One grungy man, who quite possibly could be homeless, grins and licks his lips. Disgusting.

“Don’t fuck with me,” I say. His eyes widen and smile disappears. “I mean it.”

A couple of young guys sitting nearby burst into laughter from my remarks. God, I need an everyday car.

I walk from the bus stop to my apartment building, and as I expected, Reggie’s already there, leaning against his vehicle.

“I should’ve picked you up down the street, and you need to move somewhere safer. You make enough money.”

“OK, Dad.” I narrow my eyes on him before I reach my apartment door. He follows me in. “We’ve had this conversation before. I’m saving my money.”

“I get that classic cars are nice, but a safer location to live should be a priority.”

I can’t help but think of Adrian and his obvious love for cars. I actually felt sympathy for him when he shared that his father had died.

I didn’t anticipate him opening up about it, and since I already knew about his father’s passing, I didn’t expect it to affect me.

“I need to change, so give me a few minutes.”

I plow into my room and plop onto the bed. Leaning over to remove my boots, I discover my legs are wide open and so is my bedroom door.

I’m still not used to wearing a skirt, so I do what I’ve been doing a lot lately and snap my thighs shut.

I hear Reggie chuckle, and when I look up from unzipping a boot, his shoulder is resting against the doorframe.

“I’m not changing in front of you so out.”

He gives me his wide, sexy grin before rolling his eyes and pushing off the wooden frame. The door closes, and I stand to remove my skirt.

Reggie’s dark skin and facial symmetry, along with the muscles he nurtures daily, make him attractive. He shouldn’t be single and hovering over me.

***

Peanut dust covers my jeans, so I brush it off onto the floor of Stopper’s, the local bar we like to crash. Grabbing another nut, I crack it open before tossing it into my mouth.

“Is it hot in here to you?” I ask as I shift uncomfortably in the booth.

“No, but it is March. I think it’s eighty degrees today, and you’re wearing jeans.” Reggie smirks. He knows I hate wearing shorts.

I dislike showing my body period. It’s why this job at Hotel Submission has my nerves on edge. An image of Adrian Cassano flashes in my mind.

Lord, when he stood right next to me, his presence was dynamic. There is no need for him to utter the words “I take what I want.” I felt it.

I’ve been around plenty of people with authority who throw around their titles, and that’s just it–they’re titles.

Adrian owns his. Never have I felt someone demand attention, claiming every speck of space surrounding them with zero effort.

“Vic,” Reggie says. A peanut hits my chest, so I whip my head up.

“What the hell happened today? You just checked out completely, and that’s not like you.”

“Not much. A drunk guy wouldn’t stop touching me, so I put him in his place. I was escorted to Adrian’s office and met his brother, Theo Cassano.

“Adrian told me he was moving me to an area where guys wouldn’t grab my ass without my permission.”

“You’re so going to lose this job.” Reggie chuckles before taking a drink of his beer.

“An overly attractive and snobby blonde took me to her office to measure me. She did not seem happy with me being in Adrian’s space.

“The way she eyed him gave me the impression there are some feelings there, on her side, anyway.” I hurriedly chew up another peanut.

“My new uniform is supposed to be waiting for me tomorrow. I do have to work late, so I’ll likely be tired a few days a week, but I promise I’ll keep it together.”

“You need to tell Bishop.”

“No, our boss doesn’t need to know shit.”

“I don’t like this.”

“I’m fully aware. You’ve told me repeatedly. I’m only checking things out, and I have a right to work a second job if I want.”

As I stare at him, I keep from blinking, expressing that my reasoning is solid. Feeling out a case on the side isn’t unheard of, and once I confirm that my gut has not steered me wrong, I’ll take it to Bishop.

“You haven’t told anyone, right?” I ask. Reggie looks away and fiddles with a peanut in his hand.
Shit.
“Who did you tell?”

He hangs his head and drops the nut on the table. “I had a few drinks with Tucker and it slipped.”

“That’s more than a damn slip.” I throw my head back against the seat. “He can’t keep his mouth shut. What’s the real reason you told?”

“I don’t know.” He looks away. No matter how heavily we’ve been trained in this line of work to recognize when someone is lying, it’s human nature for us to give away the signs, too.

“Bullshit.”

His gaze returns and is resolute.

“Look, I had a few too many drinks and became frustrated about you being in that hotel without me, so it came out.”

OK, this is uncomfortable now, so I smile, not wanting to discuss feelings. “Aww, poor baby. You were crying over your beers all for me?”

“Shut the hell up.” He says it but doesn’t mean it rudely. I know because along with the embarrassed red cheeks he’s exhibiting, even on his dark skin, a grin flourishes.

I take a drink of my beer, and when I glance back up at Reggie, he’s boring a hole through me with his passionate, black eyes.

It’s similar to the way Adrian was staring at me. I need to stop thinking of Mr. Adrian Cassano, but damn, he is sexy.

“Uh, I should get home. Are you OK to drive?” I ask.

“You’re the one putting away the drinks tonight.” An earnest expression flattens his smile as he runs a hand over his hair and stands from the booth.

His mood has clearly soured, and I’m not looking forward to his silence, which is what I always receive when Reg is sulking.

Victoria

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” My ass drops to the bench in front of my locker before I hold up the black chemise made of taffeta and mesh.

I don’t care what they call it. It’s not a uniform; it’s a damn nighty. How degrading.

This is something you should wear in front of your boyfriend or husband, and that would take guts on my part, but here in a room full of men … They have no business seeing me this scantily dressed.

I’ll be lucky to fit my generous size C breasts in the satin cups, which are only covered slightly by a matching bow in the center. A large–fucking–bow.

The meager fabric has spaghetti straps and a sheer, black mesh that stretches from under my breasts down to my hipbones. It’s attached to a short ruffled skirt trimmed in pink ribbon.

Suddenly wanting to become a nun, I say a prayer to a higher power to solve this investigation as quickly as possible. 

A couple of women are talking loudly an aisle over from me, so I gather my things and scurry to a restroom with a door and lock.

This should be fun, trying to put on a pair of thigh high hose in a small stall. They hook to garter belts, and after I have everything on, I reluctantly exit and head back to my locker.

My clothes are shoved inside, and I wobble in silver, strappy heels to the mirror. At least the pink, bob style wig I decided to wear today matches the ribbon on my outfit.

I want to groan, but instead, I twist from left to right, becoming angrier by the second as I scrutinize how short my skirt is.

“Damn, girl, that uniform was made for your body.”

I pivot and find a pretty blonde wearing the same nighty as me. I don’t know what she’s thinking since it clearly fits her perfectly.

“Thanks, I guess. I’m Vicky.”

“Tara. I take it you’re new?” She sticks her manicured hand out for me to shake, and as I attempt to pull mine away, she takes hold of my fingers.

“Yes, first day,” I mutter, watching her as she studiously looks at my hand.

“Hon, you need to get your nails done with me. Shannon oversees the lounges, and she’ll have you under a magnifying glass, dissecting every inch of you.”

Feeling even more nervous and self-conscious, I snap my hand away. “I’ve been too busy to keep up with my nails.”

“Then you need a girls’ day out.” Her blue eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. “We’ll get manis and pedis, have lunch and shop. When is your next day off?”

Geez, she acts like we’re besties.

“Uh, I’m not sure. Let me get back to you on that.”

“OK, let me know. It’ll be fun. Come on.” Clutching my hand, she begins pulling me behind her. My ankle gives a little, but I recover and force my feet to keep up with her.

I’ve been puzzled over this job since last night, when I was fitted in this new
uniform
.

Blanca told me to go to Human Resources at the start of my shift today. The tall elevator guy, who I found out is named Sampson, then escorted me.

He pushed a plain, black button inside, which took us straight up to the floor above Adrian’s office.

Now, following Tara through a door off the locker room, we step right into a bar. I suck in a breath, and the scent of liquor and cologne assaults my nostrils.

Another attractive male bartender glances my way. This man is older than Caine, maybe mid-thirties, and he’s dressed in a similar style uniform.

His shirt, vest and pants are black, and he’s wearing a white bowtie instead of a straight tie. I take in my surrounding while attempting to slow my breathing.

Round tables sporadically placed in a room the size comparable to a small ballroom are occupied by roughly sixty people, only two being females.

Tara begins chatting with the bartender, laughing at something he said. The room is slightly noisy, so I didn’t catch it.

“Vicky, this is Sebastian.” She has hold of my arm, pulling me toward them.

“Hi, Sebastian. It’s nice to meet you.” I reach my hand across the bar and shake his. His strawberry blonde hair is cut extremely short, and green eyes an appealing match to it.

“Hi, Vicky. I see you finally found your way into the Elite lounge.”

“Finally?” I ask, leaning over farther to hear.

“I know it takes a long time for one of you to move up.”

I only give a smile and a nod, unsure of how to respond. Is it a big deal to be a server in this room?

Tara grabs a couple of round, silver trays that are nicer than the plastic, black ones used in the casino.

“You do the same thing in this room as you do serving on the main floor. The only difference is you receive a hell of a lot more respect and a much fatter paycheck.”

She leans in closer. “Whatever you do, be polite. If you say no to something, do it tactfully, and nothing negative should come from it.”

If you say no …

My curiosity is now front and center, ordering popcorn and soda. Surely, I have not been thrust into prostitution.

One, I imagine I would’ve been informed of this, and two, no trust has been established. Adrian would have no way to know that I wouldn’t run straight to the cops.

Tara grabs hold of my right shoulder.

“Most of the men are kind, and there are only a few bitchy women to deal with. Stand up straight and own this outfit that was made for you. You’re sexy as hell in it.”

She winks and grins mischievously. I’m beginning to wonder if her idea of a girls’ day out and mine are two different things.

A man approaches us, and he looks familiar. Dark chocolate eyes survey mine and narrow. His jet colored hair is messy, a long piece sweeping across the front in a sexy way.

“Tara, who is this?” he asks, a touch of rudeness riding on his words.

“Uh, Jersey, this is Vicky. It’s her first day.”

“Who sent you to this area?” he asks, and I’m definitely not missing his aggravation this time.

“Adrian Cassano, sir.”

His eyes squint farther with scrutiny.

“I’m supposed to believe that Adrian personally sent you here?”

Now, he’s pissing me off. I place a hand on my hip. “Yes, he did. I met with him yesterday.” Dammit, I have to rein in the attitude. He studies me for a few too many seconds.

“Come with me.”

I glance to Tara who shrugs her shoulders.

“Could you please tell me who you are and what your title is?” I ask.

“I’m Simon Cassano, and I have many titles.”

Another brother.