“I’m from nowhere, Paul. You’re set to marry your family into another…” I trail off again.
“Mob royalty. Like the medieval princes and princesses, it’s always been how families gather power.”
So I’m a stop on the way. That’s okay. It’s no more or less than I expected. I just have to hold down the feelings that are simmering up in my gut, making my eyes sore.
He holds me tighter and looks into my eyes. “But I make my own choices.”
My heart sinks. “Are you going to suggest one of those traditional arrangements?” My eyes are brimming. He starts to shake his head, but I go on. “One of those things where the prince is officially married, but he keeps a courtesan or whatever they call them…”
“No, Lucy…”
“I’m cheap enough, right?”
The fierce burn in his eyes scares me. He grabs my shoulders. “Lucy, there’s nothing cheap about you. You’re the most precious thing in the world to me.” His jaw tightens. “And nobody’s going to tell me who to marry.”
In the morning, even though a glow still warms me inside, I feel empty after he leaves.
Even before I have coffee ready, I have to call JoJo. I’m nervous about making the call, but not for long. My first reaction to almost anything is to call JoJo. But this is different. It’s not every day that I say, Guess what your brother and I did all night!
As soon as she answers, she says, “Soooo… ?” in a low voice like a growl from a mischievous kitten. And she’s thrilled when I tell her.
I ask, “Isn’t he supposed to have a marriage arranged with a family from Boston?”
“Sure, a McCarthy girl. But that’s just Dad playing at dynasties. Everyone in the family loves you, Lucy.” Her voice bounces with excitement. “We could be like sisters! You could live here, in a house in the compound.”
“Is there a house for Paul?”
“There will be when he gets married. You’ve seen Peter’s house, right?”
My stomach buzzes with nerves. “Okay, I love all of this, JoJo, but it was one night.”
“Mm. Tell me all about it. I mean, not the sex – he is still my brother. But the rest of it!”
Well, I don’t quite want to do that. Not yet, at least. At least, not before I’ve had some time to process it. But we have a lovely, giggly chat.
As I hang up, the implications start to set in, and they’re pretty scary. I love the O’Malleys like they were my own family, but could I really handle being an O’Malley? Do I want that life?
The money, the cars, the houses, the glitz and glamor are all mind-blowing. It’s like a movie star’s life. But I don’t know how I could cope with the darker side.
Chapter Six
Paul
In the King Pine casino, I’m the king of the castle. I stride through every gaming floor and greet all of the dealers, pit bosses, cocktail waiters and waitresses. Everybody. Let them all know that I’m here.
There’s nowhere on earth like Las Vegas when you’re winning. At last, the O’Malley family is on the way up, and here I am, leading the way. Heading up the flagship resort. The hotel and casino complex that will spark downtown’s expansion. Old Vegas will finally give the Strip some serious competition.
Las Vegas Boulevard, watch out. Four glittering miles in the desert known as the Strip have sucked up too big a share of the high-rolling players and deep-pocketed whales, too much of the mega-casino development for way too long.
The tables are turning now, and it’s going to be me, Paul O’Malley, making the wheel spin.
Kingpin Casino and Downtown Resort will launch soon. Until then, we’ll carry the old branding. Reinforce as much loyalty with the established customers as we can before we bring in the millennials and the convention crowds.
Using sweetness and charm to build loyalty is a bright and refreshing change for me. I’m more used to pressing metal against flesh. Bending and twisting limbs in cold, wet, underground rooms.
After my night of passion, and then the bright morning, waking up with Lucy safe and protected in my arms, I feel more like a king than ever before. I can do anything. I can look people in the eye. Smile, even.
Arnie, one of the lead contractors, is going to be late on two stages of construction. And he’s holding out for more money.
In the past, I might have put one of his men into his cement mixer. But I see a way to smooth this over with an easy negotiation. He’s brought two of his senior engineers to the meeting, so I can see all he needs is to save face. I tell him, “Okay, you’re right about the overrun. Let’s split the cost. Then you’ll have enough to give your men the bonus they need to complete the project on time.”