ONE
Wylde
Six months,that’s how long this has been in the making, getting my hands dirty in more ways than I care to admit. There’s no way I would have been able to finance it all or get any type of loan, construction or business for the enormity of the once bankrupt and abandoned hotel. It sat for well over three years until it was finally auctioned off. That’s where I came in and bought it at a price no one would touch. A friend who has more connections than I could ever have helped me out. Even if I am a self-made millionaire, it doesn’t touch the billions that come with Nico and his family.
We were the kids, my sister and me who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, living in a single wide trailer, raised by parents who did their damnedest to give my baby sister and me a better life than what they had. Mom worked two jobs, Dad worked as much overtime as he could get, but instead of moving us out of the trailer park into a more affluent home, they socked away as much as they could. My college was paid for, and once I was settled, that’s when they moved. When I made my first million back from my first investment, capitalizing on real estate, flipping homes at first then moving on to commercial buildings, I paid off my parents’ house. As much as they didn’t feel it was my right to do that, I did it anyway. It was easier to ask for forgiveness than asking for permission.
This hotel, though, was something on a bigger scale; you needed more than millions, especially in a place like Vegas. For a hotel that housed all the modern amenities plus gambling, the bond alone would have taken me years to come up with. So, I bucked up and called in Nico. I needed the money, his family needed a place to launder money. Is it illegal? Yeah. Am I a sell-out? Probably, but at least I’m man enough to admit it, and I’m damn sure not corrupt. I was the one sleeping in my office, never leaving unless it was an absolute necessity, only to shower and eat. It was worth it, especially now, as I’m doing the final walk-through with Monica, my human resource manager, and her assistant, Pierre. Our soft opening is tonight. We’ve invited well-known celebrities, public relation companies, a few magazines, and it seems the room where the blackjack and roulette table are located is seeing a lot of action.
“Ready to see where all the magic will happen for the people who want to get away?” Monica asks as we walk outside the back doors leading to the pool. There are people sitting around the bars. There’s even a swim-up bar that will get a lot of use during the daytime tomorrow seeing how this only started tonight and will run through the weekend.
“Hmmm, and you think it’s the spa?” Pierre clears his throat, a smug smile plastered on his face. I’d like to say I know a lot about what every person wants, but I’m not a mind reader, especially when it comes to something like a spa.
“Guaranteed. You’ll get a return on your investment in less than four months. Wylder Casino and Hotel offers more than meets the eye, and wait till you see what we’ve got up our sleeve,” Pierre chimes in. These two would know more than me. They may work in human resources, but both have a background in marketing and a keen eye to detail, much like myself.
“I sure hope so.” Jesus, the amount I have invested in this place, I’ll owe Nico and his family for more than the ten years we agreed upon. He may be a longtime friend, but no fucking way do I want the Italian mafia at my heels because I can’t produce the cash to work in their favor.
“Well, allow me to introduce Viva la Tranquillità.” This is the one area where I was a fish out of water, so I made sure they had what was needed in terms of rooms for the spa, keeping it basic so that whoever was managing it could make it their own seeing as how they’ll be paying a certain amount of money a month from the spa’s profit.
Pierre opens the door, allowing Monica to go inside first, then myself. If peacefulness is what they’re after, they nailed it. The walls are a soft cream, the accents gold, the lit-up spa sign in turquoise states the name, and it’s packed. Men and women alike are inside, some looking at the products that are for sale, some talking to the estheticians and massage therapists, but for the most part there’s a line.
“Oh, this isn’t all. There are even stylists here. It’s literally everything in one stop, which makes women happy, the men in their life happier, and it’ll make you the happiest because they’ll spend more time gambling.” Masterminds, the both of them. We stand off to the side as I’m watching things with a methodical eye.
“I’ll be right back. I see the person I’ve been wanting you to meet.” Monica squeezes my forearm before taking off, leaving Pierre and myself to continue standing. I’ve met a lot of employees throughout the hiring process, some I remember, most I don’t. Wylder Hotel and Casino employs more than two hundred people, and it’s impossible to remember them all.
“Are you happy with how things are going so far?” Pierre asks, making small talk.
“I am. Things are going smoothly, almost too smoothly. I’d be a fool not to worry about when the doors fully open on Monday.” Thinking about it is enough to need a drink, particularly my one vice that I allow myself to indulge in. I’m smart with money, don’t buy material things, but the one thing I end a stressful day with is a glass of bourbon.
“Here she is. Mr. Hayes, I’d like to introduce you to Celeste Reyes. Finally, two business-oriented masterminds meet.” My hand goes out to hers, shaking it before reluctantly letting it go. That’s what Celeste Reyes has done to me, stopping me in my tracks. The man who doesn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure is rethinking every fucking thing I’ve said I’d never do. It comes in the form of the dark-haired beauty who has a sweet smile, soft eyes, and a banging body. And now that my sights are set on her, I know I’ll go to whatever means necessary to have Celeste under me, on top of me, or pressed against me.
TWO
Celeste
Busy,chaotic, hectic, that’s how this evening is shaping up to be, and considering this is my bread and butter, I’m completely okay with it. My nerves might be a righteous mess, but the outcome will be worth it judging by the appointments that are being booked and the products that are flying off the shelf. So, when Monica poked her head in the room where I was showing a potential client the couples massage therapy room, I knew she needed me. Wrapping up the tour was easy. Meeting the man standing before me in a custom three-piece suit and what I’m sure is custom Italian leather shoes, well, that’s entirely different. Wylder Hayes, known as Wylde, has made a name for himself all around in the Vegas business scene as well as the society pages. Though there isn’t too much you can find on him when you dive deeper, he may be tagged with women who are gorgeous enough to be models, if they aren’t already. Mum’s the word with anything related to his personal life, believe me. I called in a friend, and when they say a woman is the number-one investigator who can scrounge up any and all dirt that’s related to a man, they know what they’re talking about. Tyra is a newly divorced woman, has a toddler always on her hip, and did her own searching when her now ex-husband was acting all kinds of shady. When she looked into Wylde, she hit a brick wall, which is odd. That’s why the next time her baby daddy takes her gorgeous four-year-old, Von, we’re hitting the club scene. Are we too old? Maybe. Do we care? Absolutely not. Women in their early thirties still need to live, and that’s what the two of us do.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Reyes.” Wylde’s eyes flick to my hand, noticing the lack of a ring on that finger or a tan from wearing one, allowing him to use the title he chose.
“It’s good to meet you as well, Mr. Hayes.” Seeing as how he used my name formally and he’s my boss, I’ll be doing the exact same thing. We’re so close I can smell the scent that is clearly uniquely his—rich tones of caramel, tobacco, and something sweet. It’s dark and sultry, violating more than just my senses. Without my permission, I can feel my nipples tighten, and a throb takes place between my legs. That’s how much his presence has taken control of my body.
It's then when the two of us notice that Monica and Pierre have abandoned ship. They’re nowhere to be seen, and I’ve read the employee handbook. I might be the owner of my own business, but still, I’m the one renting the building on his property, meaning that he’s still my boss in every sense of the word, even if it’s in a more landlord type of way. The handbook included a no-fraternization policy between employees in big, black, bold letters, which makes Wylder Hayes so off-limits it's not even funny.
“I won’t keep you too long. It seems Viva la Tranquillità is making quite the splash.” He rolls those three words off of his tongue, sounding entirely dirtier than what it means—long live the tranquility. A play on words for a spa feeling with a dash of Vegas in the mix, it only seems appropriate. Wylde lets my hand go. I quickly place it by my side, attempting to look cool, calm, and collected when I’m anything but.
“Thank you for stopping by. It’s nice to put a face to your name.” I know for a fact my application for situating my spa in the hotel was one of many, probably thousands. It meant my pitch had to be rock solid, I needed to have money in the bank to be able to secure first and last months’ rent, plus a security deposit, and had to have impeccable credit. It was like jumping through hoops, a hope and a prayer, and lots of internal agonizing until I got the call from Monica that I was one of the few selected. The only thing I had to pass was the interview, which clearly, I nailed.
“I’ll be seeing you around.” Wylde’s hand is in his pants pocket, the other reaching for his ringing phone in the breast pocket of his jacket.
“Good luck. It’s been amazing so far from what I’ve seen.” I wave goodbye. The look he leaves me with before turning around… Yeah, something tells me I’ll be needing plenty of spare changes of panties where Wylde is concerned. That man, he exudes erotic thoughts with his dark hair that’s cut shorter on the sides, longer on top, falling in a way that you know is from his long thick fingers running through it. His eyes are hazel in color, not that I could have told you that from today alone; that would be from Tyra and me pouring over every image we could find of him, noticing that they change color from the lightest brown to the most vibrant green. His facial hair covers his upper lip and jaw, which shouldn’t work for a successful businessman like himself. And I don’t even want not to mention the muscular build of his thighs and knowing that I can wear heels and still meet him eye to eye. I bet a man like Wylde wouldn’t be intimidated by a woman as tall as me. Without my three-inch heels, I stand at a solid five foot seven, and with my stilettos, he towered over me.
It doesn’t matter, though. There’s no way that anything can happen when it comes to the two of us. That policy says it, and even if his eyes ate up my body, I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize something I’ve worked so hard for.
“Holy sex on a stick.” My best friend, Tyra, comes up beside me. She’s one of the massage therapists here; the schedule works perfectly for her. All my employees make their own hours, which makes it easy on Tyra because her baby daddy always pops up with the ‘I’m working late’ or ‘Drop Von off at my parents’ because I’m once again working’. This way, Von is in daycare for minimal hours while she works her tail off to make a home for her son.
“Yeah,” I agree more than I’m going to let on. Tyra is like a dog with a bone. If she thinks that I’m borderline obsessive, she’ll attempt to play cupid. No, thank you.
“That man’s voice is enough to make your toes curl.” Tyra is saying what I’m thinking, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to vocalize it.