“And playing just as hard, apparently.”
Alexa shrugged again. “It’s Vegas. I have a reputation to maintain. Besides, at least I haven’t chosen any of your friends to sleep with. That’s a little close to home, don’t you think?”
He had the decency to look embarrassed. “I didn’t know you and Maggie were friends until afterward.”
“For a man so interested in my social media presence, it would have only taken a quick search to find out.” She should keep her mouth shut. It wasn’t any of her business who he slept with. It wasn’t like she was scrolling through his follower list before she slept with someone.
The elevator dinged open and they stepped out onto her floor. They suspended their conversation until they reached her office. She loved what she thought of as her sanctuary in the middle of the chaos. Sprays of cream roses, peach peonies and blue hydrangeas graced her desk and sitting area, while ivory velvet curtains framed the large window overlooking the Vegas Strip.
“Dinner?” she asked, making them both dirty martinis at her minibar.
“Mexican?” he suggested.
She recited their orders to her assistant over the phone, then handed him a drink.
She took a seat on the white velvet sofa next to him. “I see you haven’t brought me a gift, so I hope the news you’re intending to share with me isn’t too bad.”
He pulled a small package out of his sweatshirt pocket and she blew out a breath. She didn’t want bad news when she’d been having such a good day.
“There are two things, but I’ll tell you the mostly good one first. We’re building a satellite office in San Francisco, so it looks like I might be gone for a while.”
Alexa stared at him, jittery anxiety pooling in her middle. “You’re leaving Las Vegas?”
“Not permanently, but for probably at least a year.”
“An entire year?” she spluttered. “Are you serious?”
At his affirmative nod, she tried to digest his bombshell, but the wrenching in her gut made it hard to think. She stared blankly at the sign on the coffee table in front of her of a famous singer/dancer who was starting Halcyon’s first residency in a month. She’d worked day and night to put the event together, enticing the performer to her casino instead of one of the more established places, but the accomplishment felt like dust in her mouth now.
Carter was her best friend, her rock and her brother all rolled up into basically the most important person in her life, and they’d been together since elementary school in the same city. She didn’t doubt the strength of their friendship, but a lot could happen in a year. They’d miss so much of each other’s lives—the small, mundane details of the day-to-day, late-night drinks and quickie lunches that made their friendship tick. Plus, he’d been right earlier—she’d barely seen him the past couple of months as it was.
“But it’s not final yet?” she asked hopefully.
“The final plans for the office need to be approved by the board, so it’ll be a month or so before we can start officially hiring, but it’s definitely happening.”
“Well,” she managed, her voice unnaturally cheery to cover up the sudden urge to cry, “congratulations on the expansion, but you really should have brought me more chocolate considering the circumstances.”
He handed over the package, a small box wrapped simply in silver paper with a periwinkle satin bow. Pulling it off, she lifted the lid and found eight delicate and colorful chocolates. “I know these didn’t come from anywhere around here,” she told him.
“I got back from Paris earlier in the week.”
“Parisian truffles,” she cooed, slightly mollified by his typical thoughtfulness. “A man of taste and sophistication as usual.” She closed the box and stuffed it into her purse. “Were you planning on giving these to some other girl before you found out you were leaving?”
He met her eyes, amusement dancing in his. “You’re the only woman I give truffles to, Alexa.”
That rang true, since he gave other women more expensive gifts. He’d sent Maggie an Hermès scarf after they’d slept together. Of course, that was the last time Maggie had ever heard from him, but still, an Hermès scarf was an Hermès scarf for pity’s sake.
“How nice to know I’m special,” she returned.
Their eyes met, the muscle in his jaw twitching, and it looked as if he was about to say something but changed his mind. “Unfortunately, there’s more bad news,” he told her, his expression mild again. “Chris Miller is stealing from you.”
“Chris Miller?” she repeated, completely floored. “My best general manager? That Chris Miller?”
At his solemn nod, she digested the truth of the news even though she was loath to. However, she trusted Carter literally more than any other person in the world, so there was no way he was lying, which meant she needed to accept the inevitable.
“How? How long? And how much?”
“He’s been working with