Page 25 of Beauty and the Bosshole

“Isn’t Freemont Street where you can go ziplining over everyone shopping?” I ask with a smile, and he instantly frowns.

“You drew the line at roller coasters. I’m not ziplining over people’s heads.”

“Come on, live a little.” I elbow him.

“I’ll zipline when you do the roller coaster off the stratosphere,” he says with a smile because he knows he’s won. There is no way I’m doing that.

We spend the morning shopping, and he spoils me beyond belief. Any time I look at something, then see the price tag and walk away, he buys it. I have more clothes and shoes than I think I will ever wear by the time we return to the car.

“Thank you, but I was happy to just window shop. I don’t need all this.” I see the driver loading the last of our bags into the car.

“But I want you to have it. You should have everything you’ve ever wanted. I will make sure you get it.” He winks as he holds open the car door for me.

I stand there and look at him, unsure of what to say, so I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss the side of his cheek.

“Thank you,” I say again, and it feels so inadequate for how I feel.

Once in the car, we head to New York, New York, and get in line for the roller coaster, which we ride three times before he drags me off, complaining about needing to feed me.

“I know this great little mom-and-pop place off the strip that you will love. The owner's wife makes all the cakes. They are the best-kept secret in Las Vegas,” he says with a smile.

We walk hand in hand, and he is nothing short of a perfect gentleman. He opens the door and pulls out my chair before he sits down next to me, placing his hand on my thigh just an inch from being highly inappropriate.

“I really wish you were in one of those cute dresses I got for you today,” he whispers in my ear just as the waitress comes over to take our order.

All sorts of dirty thoughts as to what he would be doing to me if I was in a dress instead of jeans fill my head, and I wonder if he can feel how soaked I am through my jeans.

We spend lunch getting to know each other a bit more, and not once does he pick up his phone and divert his attention from me. He’s focused on me the whole time, and it’s nice to have his undivided attention.

After lunch, we spend the day visiting different casinos. He gets recognized, and they try to pull him into high-stakes games, but he doesn’t gamble. He gives me money to try out different games. We spend maybe $100, leave and check out, and then head to the next place, much to the dismay of the casino managers.

Each casino gives us free drinks as we play, hoping to get us to stay longer.

“Okay, lucky number five! I think we are going to earn our money back this time!” I say, stumbling out of the car and into Reese's arms.

We both laugh as we sit down, and he tries once again to explain to me how to play blackjack.

“So, wait. The ace is equal to both eleven and one?” I say, trying to make sense of the weird rules with a slightly fizzy head when the waitress walks over and gives Reese her ‘fuck me’ eyes.

I frown and wrap my arm around his waist, which earns me a glare from the waitress.

“My girlfriend here will have a screwdriver, and I will take just a glass of water this time,” he tells her and gives her a smile, but I can tell it’s his fake smile, which he uses when he isn’t amused.

I completely miss betting on the next round as I stare at him. Did he really just call me his girlfriend?

“Yes, I did,” he says with a smile.

Crap, I must have said that out loud.

“Why?” I ask, still dumbfounded.

He has a mischievous twinkle in his eye and just shrugs.

“You will see soon enough.” He turns my attention back to the table.

With his help, I’m up over two hundred dollars and have two more drinks before everything gets a little hazy.

I open my eyes and groan when the bright Vegas sunlight feels like knives in my head. A tattooed arm holds me in place when I try to roll over.