Beautiful Bombshell
Page 30
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“Let’s see your hands,” Kim said, patting the table.
“You’re delusional,” Bennett replied, laughing incredulously.
“I’ll start with the pinkie,” Hammer said, lips twitching. “No one needs their pinkie.”
“Get stuffed, all right?” I growled, feeling a disorienting mix of impatience and righteous indignation building in my chest. “Forget the accent, I’m a f**king American citizen, you arseholes—I know my rights. If you’re going to start talking about getting violent, get a f**king cop or lawyer in here.”
The door swung open, and bloody Will entered, clapping slowly. Ice trickled into my veins, and I leaned back in my chair with a harsh exhale.
“Oh, you wanker,” I sighed.
“It was perfect!” He smiled at Hammer and Kim, and I groaned, dropping my head onto my arms on the table. I should have known. “You were angry, but convincing,” he said to me. “You might have thrown in an indignant fist slam for full effect, but I really like what you did with the American-citizen bit. Really got me right here.” I looked up just as he tapped his chest, over his heart, eyes soft and praising.
While Hammer and Kim stepped to the side, laughing, Bennett stood, walking over to Will. For a second I wondered if he was going to punch him or maybe just kick Will in the goolies, but then I realized he was smiling. He looked Will in the eye for a count of about three, and then patted his shoulder before simply walking to the door. “Well played,” he murmured before disappearing down the hall.
Hammer and Kim moved to me, hands extended and smiles full and easy now. “Sorry, man,” Hammer said, laughing. “Mr. Johnny French called. Said we needed to help your friend Will even the score. Apparently you deserved some payback for acting like pu**y-whipped little babies earlier?” He held his hands up, shrugging in a way that made me wonder whether he was officially associated with the mob. “We just wanted to f**k with you a little.”
“Seemed the easiest way to get you away from the ladies,” Will said, rocking on his heels.
I sighed, rubbing my face and feeling my heart rate slowly return to normal. All said, this was a pretty brilliant prank. “Well, while you had us back here, I’m pretty sure Chloe was out there cleaning up.”
“She did pretty well,” Will agreed. “Few thousand at least.”
“Come on,” Kim said, helping me up and slapping my back. “Go out there and get drunk.”
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, returning his handshake. “I’m staying the f**k away from cards.”
“I’m an American citizen!” Will yelled, and then collapsed into the couch in hysterics. It was probably the tenth time he’d made this proclamation in the past fifteen minutes.
“So,” I began. “You paid those men a hundred dollars to scare the piss out of us. How’d that work out for you?”
Ignoring me, Will pretended to wipe away a tear. “Your patriotic battle cry at the end is going to stay with me for all my days.”
“It was pretty amazing,” Bennett agreed.
We sat around a low glass table in a posh bar at the Bellagio, lounging on soft suede couches and sipping what felt like our millionth cocktail of the night. My inebriation snuck up on me; until this moment, I hadn’t really felt it. But with my adrenaline slowly slipping from my veins, and knowing the girls were safely somewhere in their beds, my limbs grew heavy with the effects of our adventures, and the accumulated alcohol.
All around us, the bar was quiet; it was well past three in the morning, and most of the people remaining were in the casino, or at one of the more wild bars.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a man approach our table. He wore a tailored suit, an earpiece, and had the distinct look of importance about him; the waiters made room for him, all offered him nervous hellos. Clearly someone of circumstance was headed our way, and since Will was seated at the table with us, I was disinclined to think he was f**king with us again.
“Gentlemen,” the man said, standing at the head of the table. “You must be Bennett, Max, and Will.”
We all nodded, sharing pleasantries.
“The elder Mr. Ryan has joined us in the high rollers room,” he then said. So that’s where Henry had gotten to. “But his phone is dead, and he asked me to come check on you. My name is Michael Hawk, and I’m the vice president of client relations here at the Bellagio.”
I chanced a look at my friends, to see when they registered that, with some people in his life, this man might be known as Mike Hawk. Will closed his eyes for a beat, swallowed with effort, and then opened them again, containing himself. Bennett nodded, and to my complete fascination, had to bite his top lip to repress any further reaction.
“You’re delusional,” Bennett replied, laughing incredulously.
“I’ll start with the pinkie,” Hammer said, lips twitching. “No one needs their pinkie.”
“Get stuffed, all right?” I growled, feeling a disorienting mix of impatience and righteous indignation building in my chest. “Forget the accent, I’m a f**king American citizen, you arseholes—I know my rights. If you’re going to start talking about getting violent, get a f**king cop or lawyer in here.”
The door swung open, and bloody Will entered, clapping slowly. Ice trickled into my veins, and I leaned back in my chair with a harsh exhale.
“Oh, you wanker,” I sighed.
“It was perfect!” He smiled at Hammer and Kim, and I groaned, dropping my head onto my arms on the table. I should have known. “You were angry, but convincing,” he said to me. “You might have thrown in an indignant fist slam for full effect, but I really like what you did with the American-citizen bit. Really got me right here.” I looked up just as he tapped his chest, over his heart, eyes soft and praising.
While Hammer and Kim stepped to the side, laughing, Bennett stood, walking over to Will. For a second I wondered if he was going to punch him or maybe just kick Will in the goolies, but then I realized he was smiling. He looked Will in the eye for a count of about three, and then patted his shoulder before simply walking to the door. “Well played,” he murmured before disappearing down the hall.
Hammer and Kim moved to me, hands extended and smiles full and easy now. “Sorry, man,” Hammer said, laughing. “Mr. Johnny French called. Said we needed to help your friend Will even the score. Apparently you deserved some payback for acting like pu**y-whipped little babies earlier?” He held his hands up, shrugging in a way that made me wonder whether he was officially associated with the mob. “We just wanted to f**k with you a little.”
“Seemed the easiest way to get you away from the ladies,” Will said, rocking on his heels.
I sighed, rubbing my face and feeling my heart rate slowly return to normal. All said, this was a pretty brilliant prank. “Well, while you had us back here, I’m pretty sure Chloe was out there cleaning up.”
“She did pretty well,” Will agreed. “Few thousand at least.”
“Come on,” Kim said, helping me up and slapping my back. “Go out there and get drunk.”
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, returning his handshake. “I’m staying the f**k away from cards.”
“I’m an American citizen!” Will yelled, and then collapsed into the couch in hysterics. It was probably the tenth time he’d made this proclamation in the past fifteen minutes.
“So,” I began. “You paid those men a hundred dollars to scare the piss out of us. How’d that work out for you?”
Ignoring me, Will pretended to wipe away a tear. “Your patriotic battle cry at the end is going to stay with me for all my days.”
“It was pretty amazing,” Bennett agreed.
We sat around a low glass table in a posh bar at the Bellagio, lounging on soft suede couches and sipping what felt like our millionth cocktail of the night. My inebriation snuck up on me; until this moment, I hadn’t really felt it. But with my adrenaline slowly slipping from my veins, and knowing the girls were safely somewhere in their beds, my limbs grew heavy with the effects of our adventures, and the accumulated alcohol.
All around us, the bar was quiet; it was well past three in the morning, and most of the people remaining were in the casino, or at one of the more wild bars.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a man approach our table. He wore a tailored suit, an earpiece, and had the distinct look of importance about him; the waiters made room for him, all offered him nervous hellos. Clearly someone of circumstance was headed our way, and since Will was seated at the table with us, I was disinclined to think he was f**king with us again.
“Gentlemen,” the man said, standing at the head of the table. “You must be Bennett, Max, and Will.”
We all nodded, sharing pleasantries.
“The elder Mr. Ryan has joined us in the high rollers room,” he then said. So that’s where Henry had gotten to. “But his phone is dead, and he asked me to come check on you. My name is Michael Hawk, and I’m the vice president of client relations here at the Bellagio.”
I chanced a look at my friends, to see when they registered that, with some people in his life, this man might be known as Mike Hawk. Will closed his eyes for a beat, swallowed with effort, and then opened them again, containing himself. Bennett nodded, and to my complete fascination, had to bite his top lip to repress any further reaction.
