“I’m in Vegas, Mom, what’s up?”
There was a long pause.
She sighed. “I know your daddy can be a little much sometimes, but that’s just his way. He loves you, darlin’.”
I stifled a bitter laugh. “Yeah, okay. Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I need a day or two to catch my breath. I’ll be home soon. You won’t even know I was gone,” I charmed.
She sighed yet again. A guilt tactic that usually worked, but my desperation to be away from my father trumped it. “Bridge is very disappointed,” she plied.
I sighed. “Shit. The dinner. Tell her I’ll be home Friday morning. I promise.”
“Fine,” she conceded. Her voice was weak, reminding me of all the times she spoke to my dad the same way.
“I love you,” I added, narrowing my eyes. “I’ve got to go. There’s something troubling in the car with me.”
“Okay, honey, love you too and be careful?”
“I will,” I lied and hung up the phone, laying it in the seat next to me.
I ran my hands over my hair and smoothed my pants before resting my palms on my thighs. I cut and lit the Gurkha HMR cigar, courtesy of the hotel, in the tray next to my seat. I took a long, silent drag, letting the smoke out slowly and filling the car with an intoxicating scent. At fifteen thousand dollars a box, it better taste and smell like fucking heaven.
I settled a little deeper in the leather. “Who are you?” I asked the silent girl on the bench across from me.
She cleared her throat but spoke smoothly. “I’m Piper.”
“Is that your real name?” I asked her, rolling the window down an inch to watch the lights and let a little of the smoke out.
I turned back to her. She was beautiful, without a doubt. Shiny burgundy hair curled to meet her waist, her eyes were brown and bright and her skin was flawless.
“Yes,” she told me, and I believed her.
“Piper, why are you in my car?”
“I was sent.”
“By whom?” I asked, staring straight at her.
“I’m not at liberty,” she explained.
“Ah,” I said, letting it lie. “What are you here for?” I asked, knowing full well what she was there for.
“I’m here to do whatever you want for however long you want.”
“That’s vague,” I replied.
“Consider me your own private attendant.”
“That clears it up, thank you,” I teased with a smile.
She smiled back and it wasn’t all too unpleasant a look. I decided she could stay, but I wasn’t sure what all I was going to do with her. I’d decided to play the night by ear.
“We’ll eat,” I told her.
“Naturally,” she flirted.
I shook my head and smiled at her then rolled down the divider. “Joël Robuchon, please,” I told the driver.
Chapter Five