don’t notice your savings account is slipping away. The lights, the noise—it’s guerrilla warfare at its finest.
Josie walks directly to the elevator at the end and the bag of muscles stationed in front of it. “I’m a guest of Monroe West.”
I refrain from gagging at that proclamation.
The private elevator only goes to one floor: the top. Despite that being the seventy-fifth floor, the car travels like lightning, giving me no time to steel myself before the doors slide open to deposit us in a massive entry hall. Because the gold elevator wasn’t extravagant enough the entirety of the foyer—floor to ceilings is polished, black marble.
“It’s not too late to leave,” I point out as the sounds of the party begin to seep toward us.
“Take the chicken exit?” Josie arches her eyebrow.
“Fine, lead the way.” My gaze travels up the wall and I catch sight of myself. It doesn’t look like me thanks to Josie’s wardrobe choices. The girl trapped in the marble is older, put together, sexy. Maybe it’s what I hope to be someday. Most days I’m lucky to have all the pieces to my prep uniform clean.
“You cool?” Josie prompts and I realize I’ve stopped in my tracks.
I tug at the hem of my dress and shrug. “I was just wondering if Nathaniel West read The Great Gatsby too many times, because truly he’s compensating for something.”
“Not for his money,” Josie giggles.
The elevator door dings and I realize that in the time it’s taken me to get a hold of myself it’s traveled back to the lobby and up again.
“Let’s go,” I urge her. There’s no telling who will be inside. We stand a much better chance of not getting kicked out if we don’t come face to face with one of Monroe’s minions. I was a Girl Scout. I know there’s safety in numbers.
But before we can reach the hallway, footsteps fall behind us. Instinctively, I look over my shoulder and catch sight of Nathaniel West. He’s the same age of my dad but he’s obviously spent some money on looking younger. That or maybe stress and bitterness are prematurely aging my father. He studies us, a slight sneer creeping onto his lips. There’s no denying he’s good-looking, exactly the kind of guy Josie throws herself at. Square jawed and broad-shouldered with salt and pepper hair and an expensive suit. But the look he gives me chills my blood, freezing me to the spot. He’s a predator and he has me in his sights. One move and I’ll be at his mercy. I want to run or hide. Instead I can only shrink back still locked in place and hope his interest in me fades.
Because more than the casual interest he’s showing me, there’s something in his blue eyes that’s flickers darkly. It’s what holds me in place: this terrifying magnetizing force. Does he know who I am? Would he even care? If Monroe West walked into the pawn shop I doubt my father would blink. He’d probably get a sick thrill out of buying whatever she offered, because it meant a West was in his territory. No doubt that Nathaniel would feel the same way knowing the Jacob Southerly’s daughter had found herself in his home.
The men say nothing to us as they pass. Josie tugs at my elbow, urging me forward but before we can follow Nathaniel into the house, one of his bodyguards steps in front of us. He extends his finger, pointing to the opposite hallway.
“The party is that way. This wing is closed to Miss West’s guests.”
He’s firm but not unkind as he speaks. I bite my lip and nod. It takes more than a fair amount of authority to shut me up. This guy has it in spades.
As soon as we’re out of earshot, I fall against a wall. “If Dad knew I was that close to Nathaniel West, he’d kill one of us.”
Josie nods, still struck dumb by the chance encounter.
I have to admit that after that a swarm of Housers is a welcome sight. The party is already in full swing and in typical Vegas fashion, there’s a train wreck everywhere we turn. It’s obvious we’re not the only ones who crashed or maybe Hugo invited all his favorite escorts. Judging from the scantily clad girls lounging around him that might be the case. I guide Josie to the outskirts of the room wanting to avoid him.
“Let’s get a drink!” I suggest. Maybe it will help wash the taste