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“Yes. You can call her if you like.” Lexi held her breath—the last thing she wanted was to cause trouble for Sally.
“You recognized me.”
“Yes, from the article. Why, did you know Alliyah? Alliyah West?”
He looked away, but nodded. “We had a couple of dates. You said she passed away.”
“She was killed in an auto accident just over six months ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. She was a charming companion.”
Lexi glanced out the window and saw they were cruising along the dazzling Las Vegas Strip. “So listen, I’m sorry I’m not what you were expecting. You can let me out anywhere along here. I’ll catch a cab back to the Pinnacle.” She batted her eyelashes at him in an obvious ploy. “Unless you still need a date for the evening?”
“Now you’re propositioning me?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You know you can be a bit of a stuffed shirt. You might want to watch that. I’m offering—free of charge—to go with you to whatever thing you have going on so you don’t have to find a replacement date.”
“You’re willing to spend the evening with a stuffed shirt?”
“Hey, I’ve been out with worse. At least you smell good and have a nice ride. But if you’re not interested, just have the driver pull over and drop me off.”
“Let’s say I agree to allow you to accompany me, I’d prefer to pay you for your time.”
Lexi blinked at him. “Why?”
“Because I prefer to keep our association on a professional level.”
“You want me to cut your hair?” She said it just to rile him. The man had no sense of humor. Or sense of fun.
“What?” His brows drew together in a scowl. “Why would you suggest such a thing?”
“Because I’m a cosmetologist and my profession is to cut hair.”
“That’s not what I meant.” His shoulders were razor sharp against the black leather seat. “More, you know it wasn’t.”
“You’re right, I’m messing with you, but you deserve it for being so pompous.”
“A stuffed shirt and now pompous,” he muttered.
“They’re nearly the same thing. And obviously your comfort zone.”
“I merely wish to keep things clear.”
“Oh, I get the point. It wouldn’t be a date.”
“That is correct. And as I value my time, I feel it only fair to pay you for yours.”
“Very gracious of you.”
He sighed and relaxed slightly.
“But forget it.” She patted his knee and flashed a bright smile. “We’ll just go as friends.”
He practically choked on his own breath. “We are not friends. I barely know you.”
“Sometimes people just click and are friends for life.”
“There was no click.”
“We even have a history.” She talked right over him. “We both knew Alliyah, were friends of hers.” If anyone needed a friend, it was this man. He was so cut off from everyone around him. For some reason, Lexi felt compelled to be there for him tonight. Perhaps because he was Jazi’s father or maybe just because she hated to see anyone so alone. “Close enough, don’t you think?”
His hand closed over hers on the seat. “You miss her very much don’t you?”
Tears threatened. She nodded, and without thought turned her hand over in his to give his hand an answering squeeze. “It would be payment enough to spend the evening with someone who knew her.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He pulled away from her. “As long as it’s understood that it’s not a date.”
“Understood. There will be no good-night kiss.”
He gave a shake of his head. “I may be a stuffed shirt, Ms. Malone, but you are outrageous.”
“Huh. You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He dropped his head forward as if he’d reached the end of his patience, but she thought she saw just the tiniest of smiles at the corner of his mouth.
* * *
“The event at Caesar’s Palace is an art showing at the Maxim Gallery.”
Interest flared in her bright blue eyes. “Oh, that sounds like fun. I’ve heard of the Maxim. I’ll warn you, though, that I know nothing about art.”
“There’s no need for you to have knowledge of art.” Jethro assured her.
He was still wondering at himself for allowing her to join him at the opening. It was unlike him to make impulsive decisions. And he didn’t reward dishonesty. She may be from Excursions, but she was unlike any of his previous dates. And a former dancer. That alone should have been enough to drop her off along the strip as she’d urged him to do.
But there was a lightness about her that appealed to him, a genuineness that intrigued his jaded soul.
Outrageous was an understatement. No one talked to him like she did. Stuffed shirt? Pompous? He’d fire anyone who dared say such a thing. It didn’t matter that it was the truth. That he worked hard to maintain a hand’s distance from everyone around him. He wouldn’t be disrespected.
Coming from her it rang of the truth, plainly spoken.
“Good. Because my art appreciation is limited to knowing what I like, which could be anything from a good Elvis painting to a portrait of an old woman smiling. And I never know if there’s any importance attached to the piece.”
“Well, it’s highly doubtful there’s any significance to a velvet Elvis painting.”
Soft laughter trilled through the air. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “I know that much, silly. But he was a huge contributor to the music world and I like the colors. When I look at the painting, I like to think he found peace.”
So did Jethro. Elvis was a favorite artist of his. One more thing linking him to this woman when the softness of her was already too dangerous. She didn’t fit in either of the two categories he allowed in his life.
“So you don’t believe he’s living a secret life somewhere?”
“No.” Sadness briefly dimmed the animation of her delicate features. “Much as I’d like to believe he’s still with us, music was too much a part of his soul for him to stay undetected all these years. He’d have to perform, and if he performed he’d be found.”
Disconcerted because he held the same belief, he went on the offensive.
“How old are you?” he asked derisively. “Twenty-three? Twenty-four? You’re too young to be an Elvis fan.”
“Please, great music transcends age. And I’m twenty-seven. Old enough to know my own mind.”
Not as young as he’d feared—or should that be hoped? Against his better judgment, he’d decided to indulge himself tonight and enjoy a bit of light company, but having a few elements that put her beyond his strict restrictions would be helpful.
“We’re here.” The car rolled to a smooth stop. Jethro pushed the door open and stepped out.
“Good evening, Mr. Calder.” A valet immediately appeared to greet him. “Welcome back to Caesar’s Palace.”
“Thank you. We’re here for the Kittrell showing.”
“Very good, sir. We’ve had a steady stream of arrivals for the showing tonight.”
“That’s good to hear.” Jethro tipped the young African American before extending a hand to assist Lexi from the car.
“Sean!” she exclaimed and gave the valet a warm hug. “I’m glad to see you’re back in town. How is your mother?”
Sean shifted, uncomfortable under Jethro’s stern regard, but the smile he turned on Lexi was full of warmth. “On her feet again. The knee surgery was just what she needed to get her pep back.”
“I’m glad to hear it. She’s too young to be sitting on the couch. You tell her I said hi.”
“I will. And I want to hear what’s going on with you.” Sean discreetly nodded in Jethro’s direction. “We’ll talk soon.”
“Yes, I’m off to view art.” She glanced his way, and Jethro absorbed the impact of her laughing eyes. “See you soon.” She bid her friend goodbye and made her way to his side.
He claimed her hand. “Do you know every valet in Las Vegas?”
“I know a lot. For all the tourists, Las Vegas is a small town. At least when it comes to the world of entertainers. Valeting is a common way to pick up extra money or pay the bills between jobs.”
“I see.”
“Is there a problem?”
“No.”
“Something’s bothering you,” she insisted. “Does it upset you that I stopped to speak to them? Because it would be rude to ignore the fact I know them.”
“It’s their job to provide discrete service and fade into the background. I’m sure they respect the dynamics of the job.”
“You’re saying it’s okay to be rude.”
“I’m saying, they’re working.”
“So you’re a snob.”
He sighed. “I’m not a snob. I just like getting where I’m going without a lot of meaningless chitchat.”
“It wasn’t meaningless.” She protested. “I was genuinely interested in how his mother was doing.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?” She easily kept stride with him as he led her toward the famous Caesar shopping mall.
“The point is it’s rude to be making a fuss over other men when you’re out with a man.”
“But we’re not on a date.” She reminded him with a tad more satisfaction than he cared for.
“We’re together. That’s what counts.”
“So it’s okay for me to be rude to them, but not to you?”
“Correct. No. Stop messing with me. You’re giving me a headache.”
She grinned, obviously pleased to be called on her teasing. “If you loosened up a bit, you wouldn’t get headaches.”
“Woman, you are a headache.”
“Ah, you say the nicest things. Oh, it’s the thunderstorm. I love this. Do we have time to watch?”
Without waiting for a response she skipped—yes, skipped—forward to perch on the stone bench of a fountain. He found himself following her, taking satisfaction in indulging her delight. She patted the space next to her inviting him to sit.
Suddenly an uncertain expression crossed her face and she popped to her feet. “Sorry—my oops. I know you want to get where you’re going.”
“Sit. Enjoy your show.” He sat. “And when we get to the showing, you can do something for me.”
“Ah.” She resumed her perch, her knee touching his, her gaze focused above on the changing skyscape of the indoor mall. The sunny day had darkened to gray clouds with flashes of lightning. “The job your dates perform for you.”
The comment annoyed him. So what if he wanted his companions to provide a service while they were with him. He paid good money for their company. And tipped well.
“You really are a pest. If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”
“Don’t be so touchy.” She bumped his shoulder. “Ah.” A gasp escaped her pretty lips when thunder boomed in the background adding audio to the overhead show. “I do love a good thunderstorm. I don’t get how all these people can walk by as if nothing is happening right over their heads.”
“Maybe they’ve seen it before. Or they’re caught up in the moment or the conversation. Or simply need to be somewhere.” Personally he couldn’t remember the last time he’d paused to notice the movement of the mock sky in the shopping mall. He had to admit it was pretty cool. It certainly added to the overall effect of a Roman city.
“What have you got?”
“I’m thinking this might be something to consider for Pinnacle for our next revamp. We could have simulated battle scenes.”
“Oh, and flames like the city is burning. With the postapocalyptic theme you could do all kinds of things with the skyscape, extreme sunsets and meteor storms, flash floods. You could even bring it down on the walls though that might compete with the casino action.”
“The tourists would love it. It would give them the sense of being in the game even more than the decor does now.”
He liked the creative way she thought. All tossed out so artlessly. Right. In his experience, nothing, not even ideas, were given away free. She wanted something.
He’d bet his life on it.
Above them, blue skies began to ease out the clouds and lightning. Lexi stood and smoothed her dress over her hips.
“It’s a great idea, but what I was actually asking is what would you like me to do for you at the party?”
CHAPTER THREE
PARTY? BLAST IT. In order to get his mind functioning again, Jethro dragged his gaze up to her face, not daring to linger on the intriguing hint of cleavage or her luscious lower lip.
She meant the showing. He’d almost lost his desire to attend the event tonight. But as owner of the gallery and the artist’s patron it would look bad if he didn’t at least put in an appearance. Plus, he believed in the man’s talent.
He and his friends made a great team evidenced by their huge success with Pinnacle. Yet the last few years, he’d felt compelled to prove he could succeed on his own. The gallery, like the restaurant, was his attempt at diversification.
“It’s nothing too difficult.” He stood, his hand going to the small of her back as he directed her along. “As a high-ranking officer at one of the premier entertainment conglomerates in the world, I get approached by a lot of people with ideas for the next best whatever. I’d like you to run interference for me.”
“I can see where that would get old.” Sympathy shone from eyes the color of the pastoral sky above. “Sure, I can handle that. Tell me about the artist.”
“He takes parts of photographs, layers them together and breathes life into them with an editing software he created. The end result is stunning, the colors vivid.”
“I can’t wait to see his work. It sounds unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
Jethro must be impressed with the artist. Talking about him was the most animated she’d seen him all night. Though, to be fair, he had loosened up from his stuffed-shirt status by allowing her to watch the sky show and by sharing his thoughts about revamping the Pinnacle.
At the gallery the crowd overflowed into the mall.
“Well, I’d say the showing is a success.” Lexi wrapped her arm around Jethro’s to keep from being separated from him. “And it’s such a crush nobody’s going to hear anyone in here. I don’t think you need to worry about being approached by any wannabe gamesters.”
He grunted. “You underestimate the zealousness of programmers, songwriters and other assorted artists the world over. A crowd like this just allows them the opportunity to get up close and personal.”
Actually she knew full well the zealousness of artists. No one knew better than her how one-dimensional they could be when it came to their art.
“Maybe it’s your warm personality,” she suggested.
She grinned when she received an arch stare over his shoulder. “You like to live dangerously don’t you?”
“Sorry. I can’t seem to resist.” And she should. Her every action counted toward the future and his willingness to help her. But she’d been restrained for too many years not to be herself at all times. Plus, who knew he’d be so fun to tease? Or turn out to be such a good sport? “Take heart, you’re bearing up under the challenge.”
Right inside the door hung a huge picture that was gorgeous. A tropical location brought to life in vibrant colors. The nose of a small plane bobbed in the cove and on the beach a gazebo with fluttering curtains housed a table, chairs and a meal awaiting missing lovers. To the side of the print were a picture of a lagoon, the plane and a gazebo. The title was Escape.
“I love it,” Lexi breathed. “Don’t you just want to be there?”
“It’s inviting.”
“Inviting? If that’s all you’ve got, I’m going to have to find someone else to go with.”
“Someone with a sense of adventure,” a man said behind her.
“Yes.” She agreed, moving to include the tall, stylishly dressed man. He had long dark hair, green eyes and a confidence he wore as comfortably as his fitted jacket. “And a sense of romance. Someone with a thirst for life.”
“Exactly the mood I was going for.” The man grinned and held out his hand. “I’m Ethan Kittrell.”
“Ethan is the artist.” Jethro shook hands as he introduced Lexi.
“Calder, I’m glad you made it. And for bringing such a lovely companion.”
“Are you flirting with my companion, Ethan?” There was no emotion in the question, which only served to make it more menacing.
As if she belonged to him. Not likely. She’d fought hard for her freedom. And wasn’t he the one to insist this wasn’t a date?
But truthfully she wasn’t even tempted by the handsome artist. For all his eccentric cleverness, he paled next to the sheer presence of Jethro Calder.
Good thing this wasn’t a date. Because, her independence aside, she’d be way out of her element.
No, tonight was make-believe, just an opportunity to observe him in his world. Which meant she could be herself. As long as she didn’t alienate him, she could relax and have fun.
“Not tonight, I’m not.” Ethan held up his hands in surrender and shifted ever so subtly away from her. “Just a little harmless admiration for a beautiful woman. I wouldn’t want to do anything to upset my patron.”
“Wise move.” Jethro directed her farther into the gallery, pausing to study each new piece they came to.
Patron? No wonder he’d been hot to get here. A patron to the arts, hmm, seemed there were unexpected depths to Mr. Jethro Calder. Still, being a patron was no excuse to be rude.
“Pay no attention to him.” She rolled her eyes at Ethan. “He’s still learning his people skills.”
“Sweet thing, people use skills on him not the other way around.”
“So he tells me.” She surveyed Jethro’s profile, and observed the pinch at the corner of his eye, a sure sign he hated them talking about him. This was a big night for him as well as Ethan. “He practically gushed while describing your work.”
“I have never gushed in my life.”
“You were quite animated. With good reason. I love, love, love these pieces.” She leaned in close to a picture of an old firehouse with a clock tower. Beside it were photos of a barn, a fire truck and a watch with exposed gears. “Is it a stippling effect?”
“Very perceptive. I’m a master of shadows.”
“Really? Shadows.” She stepped back and looked at the picture again.
A hand at her waist drew her in front of Jethro. He followed the line of the fire truck with his finger. “The shadows disguise the layering and add depth and dimension.” He spoke right in her ear, his breath blowing over the sensitive skin. She shivered and fought the urge to lean back against him.
“Yes. I can see the shadows are key.”
“Ethan, there you are. And Jethro, you finally made it. Excellent.” A woman with pale skin, black sharp-edged hair and bright red lips swept up to them. She wore a black suit that flowed around a reed-thin body. Hooking her arms through each of the men’s, she led them away. “The press are here. Time to make nice.”
Lexi followed as best she could considering the crowd quickly closed around her now she didn’t have the almighty Jethro Calder with her. When she got cut off, she decided to look around at more of the art. The woman obviously worked for the gallery and it sounded like Jethro would be busy for a few minutes, so he shouldn’t miss her.
As she strolled around, she encountered several people she knew. The director of her last dance review at the Golden Link and his wife, a pit boss from Pinnacle and his partner, and a client of hers from Modern Goddess. She chatted briefly with each making sure to talk up the artist; she even influenced a sale with the director.
She kept her eye on Jethro in case her duties were needed but the dark-haired woman, whom she’d learned was Lana, the gallery manager, guarded him like a lioness with her cub. No wannabes were getting through her.
Ethan found Lexi by the buffet table.
“Hey, I’ve been racking up sales for you.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He grabbed one of the fancy bottles of water. “And I’m glad I caught you alone.”
“Ah-ah.” She shook her finger at him. “You promised Jethro no flirting.”
“He’s who I want to talk to you about. I want to thank him for his patronage by giving him one of the pictures. I thought you could help me choose one for him.”
“Oh, goodness. We really haven’t known each other that long.”
“Maybe not, but you obviously have his number. And he likes you.”
What an interesting comment. She wondered what made him think so. She laughed. “I think we both have you fooled.”
“No.” Ethan shook his head, his green gaze serious. “As a photographer and an artist, I’ve learned to read people. I’ll admit Jethro is tough to get a read on because he doesn’t show much emotion. Most people don’t even try unless they want something from him.”
“That’s just sad.” She dismissed a pang of guilt. He couldn’t miss what he didn’t know he had.
“Yes.” Ethan sipped the expensive water. “But it’s a persona he fosters. He doesn’t let people close.”
“You’re just proving my case.”
“I’m proving my case. Because you see the man. You recognized his excitement for my work. You tease him.” He shook his head. “Seriously, I’ve never seen anyone talk to him the way you do. And he takes it. That’s how I know he likes you.”
Okay, he’d made a couple of good points, but Lexi still wasn’t convinced. She’d love for Jethro to like her. It could only help her case, make him predisposed to help her. But the evidence seemed pretty flimsy to her.
“That and the way he looks at you. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night.”
Of course the comment had her searching out Jethro, and sure enough he looked right at them even as he talked with an elderly Japanese couple. She waved and he cocked a dark brow.
“This should really be your choice.” She told Ethan.
“I’d still like your help.” He insisted.
“Okay, but I should get back to him soon.”
“This won’t take long,” he assured her. “And he’s busy taking care of business so we have time.”
“Business? You mean patron stuff?”
“No. He doesn’t have to do much with that except praise my work.”
Uh-oh. She sought him out again. Had she misread the Japanese couple? Could they be overeager gamesters she should be saving him from?
“He’s dealing with boring owner stuff.” Taking her arm Ethan led her to the first picture. It already had a red dot indicating it had been sold. “There’s plenty of time for you to help me.”
“I didn’t know Jethro owned the gallery. Is he going to be moving it to the Pinnacle?”
“He hasn’t mentioned any plans to do so. And it has a following here, so I wouldn’t think so.”
Interesting. Calder was associated so closely with Pinnacle, she found it difficult to think of him branching out to other casinos. But then Pinnacle wasn’t just a casino but part of a huge entertainment conglomerate. The company started out creating and distributing video games. The hotel and casino were decorated based off the first game, a postapocalyptic world where everyone fought to survive.
The diversification made her wonder if he might be considering breaking away from Pinnacle. When she got the time, she’d have to think of what that might mean to her plans.
“Has Jethro shown an interest in any particular piece?” she asked Ethan. “That might be a place to start.”
“Good idea. Let me think.” He stopped and propped his hands on his hips. His gaze ran over his work displayed on the walls. “No. He’s shown general appreciation but not for any specific piece. As I said, Jethro doesn’t give up a lot about himself. That’s why I was hoping you could help.”
Lexi spied a picture of a smoking cigar in a crystal ashtray next to a bottle of aged bourbon in the forefront of an old-fashioned parlor. The colors were muted but powerful. She thought of the old-world elegance of Jethro’s restaurant and knew he would appreciate the piece.
“That one.” She nodded toward the painting. “It would fit nicely in his restaurant so it’s something he’ll like.”
Ethan considered the painting and then nodded. “You’re right. It fits him. Let me grab it before someone buys it. Thanks.” He dropped a kiss on her head and strolled off.
“He’s still making moves on my date,” Jethro drawled close to her ear. “I might have to have a talk with him.”