Vice (5 page)

Curious in a way he knew he’d regret later, he left his office and headed outside once more, Wade following behind at a discreet distance. Something she’d said before niggled the back of his brain. She’d asked if he’d ever had a conversation with the people in his casinos, and he realized aside from focus groups and the odd drunk reveler, he hadn’t really spent much time talking to his customers.

He wasn’t a fool. He understood the severity of gambling addiction. He just didn’t see much evidence of it in his casinos. The customers he’d spoken to had always seemed in control of their finances and appeared to know their limits. In fact, he was willing to bet the majority of his clientele were just out for a night of fun.

He was willing to play the odds and prove it to Kate Callender. He approached her little protest and those around her didn’t seem to know whether to get quiet or start chanting louder.

Kate hadn’t seen him arrive. He tapped her on the shoulder. When she turned, he didn’t give her a chance to talk. It was his turn now.

“Come with me.”

She dropped her placard. “I’m busy, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Busy or not, she left with him, pulled by the elbow through the casino doors.

“Ten minutes, that’s all I ask. Then you can go back to fighting the good fight.” When he realized he was still holding her elbow, he let go and felt heat rush to his face. He turned to the gaming floor. “Let me tell you what I see, Ms. Callender. I see hundreds of happy people out there. Yes, they’re spending money, but look at the smiles. They’re glad to be here. It’s a bit of fantasy, a dream. I provide that and when they’re done, they go back to their humdrum lives with some exciting memories to share with their friends.”

She sniffed. “Well, aren’t you the philanthropist?” She turned to face the floor. “Let me tell you what
I
see, Mr. Doyle. See that man? The one with the red hair on the Mt. Olympus slot machine?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you think there’s anything odd about the look on his face? Anything strange about his posture?”

Liam studied the man. He noticed the man’s glassy gaze, how he stared at the slot machine lights, but didn’t seem to be taking them in. His shoulders might have been balls of nerve, he held his arms at such a tense angle. “What? He’s concentrating.”

“You’re right, he is. He’s concentrating on how to win, and can’t think of anything else. See the way his jaw is set, the way his fingers are locked on the machine? He’s desperate. He’s compulsive, and has probably just lost his last dollar. So are you going to do the right thing and send him home now? A good bartender wouldn’t let a drunk continue drinking.”

Exactly the philosophy he imparted to his staff. Despite ensuring his employees followed it, he still felt defensive. Had they done enough? She didn’t seem to think so. “My security staff knows to watch out for troublemakers.”

“Oh, but he won’t cause trouble. He’s the perfect customer. He’ll smile and pretend everything’s okay, and then maybe tomorrow he’ll stumble home, when he realizes he’s pissed himself because he didn’t want to leave his spot to go to the bathroom, because he’s certain it’s about to pay out. Maybe then he’ll realize he’s in debt as well.”

“You paint a bleak picture.”

“I didn’t paint it, Mr. Doyle. People like you did.” She looked him right in the eye, her mouth tight.

“Well, let me draw your attention to the ladies lining up to cash in their chips at the wicket.” He pointed out a happy group of women in their thirties. “Look at them. This is probably the first trip any of them have had in years. Maybe they’re on a getaway, maybe they’re taking a break from their boring husbands or boring jobs. Whatever it is, they’re practically bubbling over with excitement.” He turned her attention to another couple. “And those two? They just came out of one of the theatres, having spent the last few hours watching a show, not gambling. Not everyone who orders a glass of wine at a bar is a drunk, Ms. Callender.”

His tirade through, all he could do was stare at her. So many emotions lanced through him that moment, ones he didn’t typically permit himself to feel. The tightness in her eyes soon softened into suspicious interest, but she quickly took the opportunity to escape, rushing back out the front entrance.

Cursing, Liam turned and watched the red-haired man at the slot machine. Okay, maybe Kate’s depiction of compulsive gambling didn’t apply to everyone in his clubs, but she wasn’t wrong about the look of hopelessness on the man’s face. Liam motioned for Wade to come over.

“Yes, boss?”

“See the man with the red hair? He’s been here too long. Put him in a cab, charge it to the company account, and make sure he gets home.”

“You got it.”

Liam headed for his private elevator, still cursing to himself. Not because he’d lost a customer. No, because before Kate had fled, he’d seen her eyes water with angry tears.

And now he truly felt like shit.

So far, opening week for Vice was going down in his personal history as the worst one ever.

Near end of day, Liam was once again drawn to his window. Once again, Kate trod the pavement with her comrades-at-arms, waving at the customers headed inside the casino and shouting do-gooder vitriol.

Only now, a part of him cheered her on. He couldn’t help it. He’d always loved an underdog. Hell, he could almost understand what Wade meant when he said he wanted to hug her. Almost.

Fuck. When did he become sympathetic to her cause? When she’d shone a light on the compulsive gambler in his casino. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about her, about her motives and what inspired them. He needed to know.

He’d never been ignorant about the world of gambling. One couldn’t live in Vegas and remain innocent. God knew how many of the homeless folks out on the Strip had begun their downward spirals in a casino. He knew it, better than most.

But in every walk of life, there were people who couldn’t hack it. Didn’t matter where you went, the same story played out everywhere in different ways. Some people climbed, others crashed. He’d risen above his own trials and had survived.

So what was it about gambling that filled Kate with such ire?

Why did he even care? He had too much on his plate for these games. It was time to wave goodbye to the protestor, and in order to do so, he needed to convince her and her friends to leave. She could deal with the bee in her bonnet in front of someone else’s casino. Preferably Trump’s. Hell, he’d buy them all bad toupees to wear if they wanted.

He paged Wade to come to his office. He didn’t waste any time once he came out of the elevator. “I want to talk to her again. Bring her to me.”

Wade raised an eyebrow. “Sure. If I can. She was pretty ornery after you talked to her earlier.”

So their conversation had affected her, too. Interesting. “She’ll come.”

The other man considered. “I don’t think she’d stop for a fast-moving train. Hours on her feet out there, and she won’t even come into the casino to take a piss. She doesn’t even eat. I saw her pass around cookies to her pals, but she hasn’t touched them.”

Liam shook his head. He had to hand it to Kate Callender. The woman was driven, the sort of person he’d hire under different circumstances. “I want to talk to her. Now. Throw her over your shoulder if you have to.”

“Whatever you say, Liam.”

He checked the clock as Wade left. Three-forty. Bridget and Michelle were due in twenty minutes, but he’d make time for Ms. Callender. He needed to make her understand his point of view.

Christ, since when did he
need
her understanding? He was Liam Doyle, a man known for striking a good deal. In his experience, everyone caved once they thought they had a bargain. He’d swayed some of Vegas’s biggest players. He could sway Kate Callender. He just needed to turn on the charm and make the price appear attractive.

She must be ready to burst after marching all day. Perfect. He’d let her use his private washroom, let her get cozy and then move in for the kill.

When his pulse started to race, Liam began to wonder about his motives for seeing her. He suspected it had less to do with casinos, and more to do with hunger.

His inconvenient hunger for her.

When Wade told Kate that Doyle would see her again, she tried to ignore her sense of shock and turned to her fellow protestors. “Rod, could you take over for me?”

“Sure. How long will you be gone?”

“I have no idea.” Bemused, she followed Doyle’s lackey into the casino.

So the lord of the manor wanted to see her again. She must remember to doff her hat.

“How are you today, Wade?” She tried not to swallow a cloud of smoke from some woman who was doing her best to resemble Lindsay Lohan. Wait,
was
that Lindsay Lohan?

“Fine.” She thought she caught him blush. “Thanks for the cookies earlier. Oatmeal’s my favorite.” He frowned. “Don’t tell Liam, okay?”

She grinned and locked up her lips with her fingers as she followed the big man to Doyle’s office.

Liam sat at his massive desk like a king. When he stood to greet her, she saw he wore yet another suit cut perfectly to fit his body. He must have a personal tailor on call. The expensive black cloth seemed to caress every part of him. Underneath, he wore a checked shirt and another navy tie, one that made his blue eyes look even more fiery. The ensemble, if traded for food, could probably feed an entire homeless shelter.

But he looked good. So good, she’d swear a squadron of butterflies just launched an assault on her belly. She chalked it up to needing to pee and shifted on her feet, conscious of Wade leaving in the elevator. “Mr. Doyle.”

He moved toward her, stopping mere inches away, and offered her a slow grin. “I’ve decided we’re ready for first names. Call me Liam.”

“How fortunate that I have you deciding these things.” She took a step back. Not that it helped the crazy fluttering inside her. “I don’t really think first names are wise. You know, with me trying to discredit you and all.”

“Oh, come on, Kate. You’ve been picketing my casino for a few days now. You’re here so much I feel as if I should put you on payroll, even if you are trying to make me lose money. Don’t you think I’ve earned the right to call you by your first name?”

Avoiding his question, she looked around and noticed some coloring books and strawberry pastries on the kitchen counter. Next to them was a Dora the Explorer DVD. “Um, wow. I wouldn’t have guessed your tastes run to the girly.”

He looked at the counter-top items. “They’re not for me. I’m having visitors shortly.”

“So why am I here?”

He gestured to the couches and sat. She remained standing, hoping it would bug him, but he merely shrugged. “It’s time we got frank, Katie.”

“Please don’t call me that. I prefer Kate.”

“Of course, you do. It’s much more sensible. So it’s settled, I can call you Kate.”

Momentarily bested, she crossed her arms over her chest, noting how his gaze followed, and how her nipples hardened in response. “What do you want, Doyle?”

“To know your price.”

“What price?”

“Really? You wanna play games with me?”

“You’re one to talk about games. Besides, I’m not playing any. I just don’t understand your question.”

“Ms. Callender, everyone has a price. Now, I’ve been very patient, but I want to know what it’s going to cost me to remove you from my casino. The sooner you tell me, the sooner we can finish this.”

Did he seriously think she could be bought? “I don’t have a price. I’m not doing this so you’ll pay me off.”

“I don’t believe you. People don’t do anything unless they think there’s a payoff somewhere down the line.”

Something in his face paled. What did he mean? Granted, with his money, he’d probably met some mercenary characters. Still, it made her a little sad to see poor little rich boy act so jaded about the world. “I’m not sure how to make it clearer, Liam, but I’m not even slightly interested in your money.”

They stared at each other, and she could tell he was analyzing her as much as she did him. Once again, his gaze dipped down to her breast line and back up again. “You just called me Liam. Careful. Next thing you know you’ll be under my sheets.”

A tingle of raw sensuality worked its way up her spine. His amazing scent filled her nostrils as her mind wandered. Dammit. She had fantasized about them together in a few moments of weakness the night before. She shifted on her feet again, suddenly desperate for a toilet. He’d turned her insides into a roiling cauldron of something very bad for her peace of mind. “It just slipped out, Mr. Doyle.”

He chuckled. “Something else is going to slip out if you don’t get to a bathroom. It seems you’ve had no breaks since you got here this morning.”

“Stalking me now, are you?”

“And if I have been watching you? What would you say to that?”

His tone had changed, the playful lilt gone. The whisper that remained spoke of seduction, of repressed carnality and greed. He may have meant to tease her with his words, but hearing them with such voracity made it hard not to react. Her throat seemed suddenly dry, and she realized something about this man. With him, there were only three options: fight, flight or submit.

She prayed she still had some fight left in her.

“Never fear, sugar,” Liam said with a shrug, his voice once again lightening with mischief. “I just wish my own team worked so hard.” He motioned to a set of doors. “Be my guest.”

Shoot. She shouldn’t have had that extra-large coffee on the way to the protest, but she’d needed the pick-me-up after her failure to do the right thing at the bank. But to use Liam Doyle’s private bathroom? “I don’t know.”

“It’s cleaned daily, Kate. I haven’t even used that one yet. No evil Liam cooties in there.” He eyed the clock on the wall. “Look, I don’t mean to rush you, but like I said, I have visitors coming and if you’re not planning on answering my question, we might as well call it a day.”

“Okay, fine.” Muttering her thanks, she shuffled to the washroom and closed the door behind her, almost slamming it with relief. She made sure to lock it as well. What if he had a hidden camera in here? What if Liam Doyle was a crazed serial killer who lured unsuspecting women into his bathroom of death? Not finding any lethal traps lying about, she adjusted her clothing and attended to business.