Vegas, Baby

Chapter 3

The Benton Group currently had holdings all over the United States, but Cole Benton had maintained the flagship executive offices near the top of the hotel’s original forty-story building. So Sunny didn’t have to go far to confront The Third. After getting back into her street clothes and borrowing a cardigan from Pru to wear over her tank top, it was only a matter of simply walking on over to The Benton’s main bank of elevators.

However, when she got inside the first elevator car that opened up for her and pushed the button for the 35th floor, her head began to fill with righteous steam. Seriously, how dare Cole Benton just cut their show without even a little bit of warning? What a prick, she she thought, as she walked past the empty receptionist desk, rehearsing the polite but passionate plea Rick had all but written down for her.

Sunny came to an abrupt pause in the doorway of the outer office. Then she checked the nameplate on the door. The wood-and-glass sign declared this to be the office of Cole Benton, the CEO of The Benton Group of Hotels and Casinos. However, his outer office was not only sparse, with just a simple black desk and a black leather couch to appoint it, but it was also empty, the chair behind the secretary’s desk currently without an occupant.

Sunny hesitated, all revved up with nowhere to go. What should she do? Wait for the secretary on the couch? Hope that she’d be back sometime soon? Or...

Her eyes went to the closed door, which was painted black, as if Mr. Benton truly wanted a soul to think twice before entering his inner sanctum. And it worked. Sunny’s stomach churned at the thought of actually going in there.

But she ignored the butterflies writhing around in her belly and concentrated on taking one step, then another, then a few more after that, until she could take no more. She was right at his office door now. She had no choice but to run away or to knock.

Her main instinct was to run away. She hadn’t even worked up the nerve to tell Rick she was moving to New York. Did she really think she had what it took to confront Cole Benton face-to-face?

But she had to do this, she decided in the end. For Rick, and her coworkers, most of whom she considered friends. She took a deep breath and raised her hand for what she hoped would be a polite but firm knock on Mr. Benton’s door.

Before her knuckles could touch the dark wood, the door swung open, and suddenly her field of vision was filled with a dark tie and a well-cut suit, covering what looked like a lean, well-muscled chest.

Her gaze traveled up. The man staring down at her had dark brown hair, a square chin and a set of green eyes so intense, they put her in mind of a hawk. She’d noticed his official corporate photo a few times downstairs in the lobby, him unsmiling with the hotel’s famous choreographed water fountain in the background. Just looking at him standing there in front of shooting jets of water had made her feel cold, as if looking at a picture of a snow-peaked mountain.

But now standing in front of him, his eyes were just as icy as they’d been in the photo. However, this time his gaze didn’t make Sunny feel cold. In fact, it burned into her, rooting her to the spot with electric attraction.

And maybe he was just as stunned by her appearance, because he also went still, as if someone had hit the pause button on his brain. But only for a moment, and then his crystal green gaze began a slow descent down her body...and all the words she had prepared suddenly flew out of her head.

They stared at each other like this for moments on end, him the hawk, her as scared and speechless as a mouse.

“Yes, what do you want?” he finally said, with only the slightest uplift on “want” to let her know this was actually a question. His voice was dark, precise—like a gun shooting bullets.

Sunny cleared her throat. “Hi....um, I’m—”

“I know who you are.”

“Really?” The words came out as a squeak. She tried again. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He crooked his head as if he were trying to decode her, even though as far as Sunny knew, there was nothing to decipher. “My grandmother speaks very highly of you for some reason.”

“Oh, Nora, of course,” Sunny said, relaxing a bit at the sound of her friend’s name. “That’s so nice of her to say nice things about me. I’ve had a lot of fun helping her with the Christmas Lung Cancer event over the years. Though, I’ve, ah, never seen you at any of those events....”

This observation caused that green gaze of his to shutter. “No, I was too busy running the corporation that provides all the money for Nora’s charity events.”

This made Sunny’s nose crinkle. “Too busy even for your grandma? I mean if my grandma were still alive and asked me to come out, anywhere, I’d make the time.”

Cole’s lips thinned. “I suppose we have different ways of showing our relatives we value them. I think keeping my grandmother rich beyond her wildest dreams is enough, whereas you seem to think I’m neglecting her if I don’t show up at her little Christmas party.”

Sunny shrugged. “Money’s nice, for sure. Believe me, I know that,” she said, thinking fleetingly of her dream to move to New York. “But if I had to choose between a big old pile of money, or family, I’d choose family every time.”

Cole gave her a grumpy look. “I can see why she likes you if you go around spouting crap like that.”

“Excuse me, it’s not crap—” Sunny broke off before her temper could get away from her. Yes, Cole Benton was an ass who couldn’t be bothered to support his own grandmother, but unfortunately, he was the ass who could get The Benton Girls Revue back up and running. She had to be nice to him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Benton, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.” She pasted on a smile and went back to the script Rick had gone over with her. “I’m actually here as a friend of your grandmother’s to talk with you about your recent decision to cancel The Benton Girls Revue.”

Mr. Benton’s mouth twisted up. “Oh, that,” he said, his monotone making it clear how unenthused he was to pursue the particular topic of conversation. But then he surprised her by stepping back, and holding the door open for her. “I suppose you’d better come in.”

She did, glancing around the mostly black-and-white room before tentatively sitting down on one of the hard black guest chairs. The whole office put her in mind of a chessboard, and she had the feeling that the association was intentional, as if to say to visitors, “once you step into Cole Benton’s space it’s game on.”

And it became clear who was the king on this board when Cole Benton sat down in the much larger chair behind his white desk, steepling his hands over its glass cover. “Talk.”

Sunny swallowed and folded her hands in her lap. “As you know, The Benton Girls Revue is one of the oldest revues in Vegas, and even though I know it comes with its share of costs, it does still break even.”

“Barely,” Cole added. “And I’m not a fan of breaking even, especially when there are plenty of other shows interested in that space. Shows that would cost less and bring in a higher profit.”

“I understand,” Sunny answered. “But when you add in The Revue’s long history, anyone can see that you can’t put a money amount on its value.”

“Only if they don’t have an MBA,” Cole answered. “I’m assuming you don’t.”

What. A. Jerk. What complete and total jerk, she thought, trying to keep the lid on her temper. “No one knows the value of that history more than I do. My grandmother was the first black Benton Girl, and it really makes me sad to think her legacy won’t be able to continue on—”

“So that’s how our grandmothers met?” Cole asked. “While kicking up their heels on the Benton Girl line?”

“Yes, and that’s why—”

“Save it,” Cole said with a bored expression. “You’ve way overestimated the nostalgia factor. I’m a businessman first and foremost in all things, so I don’t care how old The Benton Girls Revue is. The fact is we’d make more of a profit selling the costumes and set pieces we’ve used in it than we would keeping the show going, and that’s what I value most, the bottom line.”

Sunny had tried. She’d really tried, but she couldn’t hold her temper back any longer. “Look, Mr. Benton. I’m not here about your bottom line, I’m here about the people who signed on to do a job in good faith and then had the carpet pulled out from under them today. Good people.”

The man behind the desk threw her a skeptical look. “Let me guess, good people like you.”

“Yes, good people like me,” she agreed. “I have no shame in admitting I need this job to hit my life goals. But also, good people like my best friend, Prudence, who has a younger brother she’s supporting all by herself. Two weeks severance isn’t going to cut it for her.”

“Life goals like what?”

Sunny blinked, a little thrown off track by his response to her passionate speech. “What?”

“You said you have life goals that you need this job to support. What are they?”

Sunny frowned, all sorts of discombobulated. “You really want to know...?”

Mr. Benton heaved a huge sigh. “You’ve already seen how much I value the bottom line, so you should just assume that I also value my time, since it’s worth a lot of money. Believe me, Ms. Johnson, I don’t waste it with questions I don’t want answered.”

Sunny adjusted herself in the black chair. “All right. I haven’t told Rick or your grandmother this yet, so I’d appreciate you keeping it to yourself until I do.”

She paused, waiting for him to promise, but he just stared back at her. The king on his chessboard, refusing to make any concessions to a mere pawn.

“I recently received a scholarship to earn an MFA in dance pedagogy—that’s basically like dance education—at New York Arts University. They’ll cover my tuition in exchange for me agreeing to teach in their dance program for low-income neighborhoods for the two years that I’m there. But they don’t provide room or board, and room and board isn’t exactly cheap—even in the outer boroughs where I’d be living...”

“No, it isn’t,” he agreed, his voice thoughtful, like he’d never even considered how the other half lived before.

Probably because he hadn’t, Sunny thought to herself before continuing on. “So you see why I need this job at least until August, along with all the other hard working dancers in The Revue.”

For some reason, Mr. Benton smiled. Smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Yes, yes, I do see now.”

She waited for him to expand on that statement, but he continued to sit there, his brow crinkled, like he was running some sort of calculation.

Sunny looked from side to side. “Does this mean you’re actually thinking about not cancelling the show?”

“Depends,” Mr. Benton answered.

“On what?” she asked when he once again fell quiet.

He sat forward. “On what you’re willing to do to make sure the show goes on.”

Chapter 4

Cole watched as the showgirl’s eyes widened slightly, like a rabbit suddenly caught in a trap. He continued to study her every reaction, while calculating his next words. He could tell she was confused. Very confused, but he didn’t rush in with an explanation. He hadn’t gotten to the top of his business by not carefully evaluating each and every one of his business rivals before and after they sat down on his chessboard, and he considered this showgirl, Sunny Johnson, a business rival.

One who happened to be extremely sexy, with long legs and soft curves that made his hands itch to do more than talk business.

She was fascinating, not at all what he’d expected, not just because she was African-American—though Nora choosing someone outside their race for him to wed had certainly been a surprise. She was so opposite of most of the people he associated with in Vegas. Vegas was a town built on big gambles and everyone who worked there from CEOs to the guys who cleaned the pit floors tended to hold their cards close to the chest. But not this woman.

It was the wide-open expression that had really thrown him at first. Every emotion she felt shone clearly on her face. Starting with her initial attraction to him when they first met in his doorway, soon followed by her irritation and righteous indignation as she defended the jobs of her fellow dancers, and eventually careful pride when she told him about the little scholarship she’d gotten to NYAU.

In fewer than ten minutes, he’d figured out that she wasn’t quite the parasitic gold digger he’d assumed she must be when Nora had first brought up her name. But then again, she wasn’t exactly a helpless damsel in distress, either. He’d found that out when he tried to run roughshod over her pitch to save The Benton Girls Revue and gotten an earful back.

She wasn’t jaded, but she wasn’t easily manipulated, either. Cole valued frankness and candor in many of his business dealings. But in this case he had the feeling that straight-up asking her to help him deal with his grandmother’s outrageous demand wouldn’t go over too well, even if she truly did need money to fund her move to New York.

“My grandmother...she likes you a lot,” he said carefully. Then he waited for her to respond.

“I like her, too,” Sunny answered. “She’s a wonderful woman, and she always made sure my grandmother had a place at The Benton. I’m fortunate to call her a friend.”

Cole didn’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed that his grandmother apparently wanted him to marry her biggest fan.

“Yes, she is an extraordinary woman.” Extraordinarily presumptuous, he thought to himself. “And unfortunately, she’s in declining health these days.”

Declining mental health—and that was technically only Cole’s opinion as of now, but tomato-to-mah-to.

Sunny’s eyes widened and she seemed truly worried. “Oh, no, I’m sorry to hear that. I saw her at one of our shows last week and she seemed in perfect health. She never said anything.”

Cole lowered his eyes, which he hoped was a good enough approximation of upset. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to show any feeling at all during a business negotiation, he wasn’t sure what it would even look like. “It’s not something she likes to talk about. Her good days are pretty good, but her bad days...” He deliberately let that sentence trail off. “Her bad days aren’t something I like to talk about, either.”

Especially now, when he was trying to convince this showgirl that his tough-as-nails grandmother was in declining health.

He pushed forward to the next topic. “But you’re right. I’ve been focused mainly on establishing The Benton Group as a national contender in the hotel industry over the last few years, but my grandmother had an episode this morning, and it made me realize, blood really is more powerful than money.”

Especially when that blood holds more power than she should in your corporation, he thought with an inner glare. Why his grandfather had willed Nora so many shares without limiting her power to use them, he had no idea. But if and when he ever got married, Cole knew he wouldn’t make the same error in judgment with his own wife.

Sunny put a hand over her chest and her eyes went soft as she said, “It is. It truly is. I miss my own grandma every day.”

“Ms. Johnson, I’m just going to level with you. My grandmother doesn’t have long. To the end of the year if she’s lucky, and it’s become important to me to make her happy during these next few months.”

Sunny nodded. “Of course. I completely understand.” She pursed her lips. “But how do you figure cancelling The Revue will make her happy?”

Cole kept his face composed while scrambling for an answer to her question. “The truth is cancelling the show was my way of trying to put some limits on her activities. I want her to get the rest she needs.”

Sunny frowned. “Knowing Nora, she definitely wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“No, I suppose she wouldn’t. But now that I know there’s a sympathetic person on staff who knows about the situation, maybe I could see my way to reopening the show, at least for the next few months. Especially if it would make Nora happy.”

Sunny sat forward, her eyes full of worry for his grandmother. “I will do anything to make sure she doesn’t overdo it when she’s visiting us.”

“She won’t appreciate being coddled,” Cole warned her sharply.

“I know she won’t. And I won’t coddle her, I’ll just make things easier for her, I promise. If you put the show back on, you won’t regret it.”

He nodded as if he were giving her idea of helping out serious consideration as opposed to leading her straight into his trap. “The only thing is that even the show isn’t enough to make her happy these days. You won’t believe what she— No, I don’t want to drag you into this.”

But Sunny shook her head. “No, tell me. Maybe I can help.”

“You could, but it would be weird. I couldn’t...”

“Please tell me, Mr. Benton.”

Cole put a reluctant tone into his voice as he answered. “The thing is my grandmother is very fond of you.”

He pretended to hesitate some more and waited for Sunny to prod him along, so that she could think this whole conversation was her idea.

“Yes, you told me that,” she said, right on cue. “But what does that have to do with the state of her health?”

“She’s so fond of you, that her wish—I guess you could call it her dying wish is that I...”

Again he stopped and waited.

Sunny was leaning all the way forward in her seat now, her pretty brown eyes wide with curiosity.

“That you what?” she asked.

“Marry you.”

He could hear Sunny’s breath catch, and he again went silent. Biding his time. Like the predator she had no idea he was when it came to business.

“Are you serious?” she finally asked after a few opens and closes of her mouth.

He laid a solemn hand on his chest. “Believe me, Ms. Johnson, I would never ever joke about something like this.” Lie through his teeth, yes. But joke? Never.

“I don’t...I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he answered, his mind working furiously behind his calm eyes to figure out how to make this next thing sound less like a threat and more like a win-win for both of them. “You want something from me and I need something from you for my grandmother.”

“You want me to help you trick her?” Sunny asked. He could practically see her struggling with her conscience.

It must be tiring to have one of those, he thought to himself. “I want you to help me make my grandmother happy,” he rephrased.

“And making Nora happy...what would that entail?” Sunny’s voice was hesitant, but Cole could tell she was mulling the idea over, which meant he was in.

He somehow kept the smirk off his face as he answered. “There would be a whirlwind romance for a couple of months, and then we’d announce our engagement—probably at one of my grandmother’s events.”

“Like her August Children’s Charity ball?”

He pointed at her. “Perfect.” Nora had been nagging him to attend that stupid event for years and this year it would be the weekend before the end of summer board meeting. Why not kill two birds with one stone?

“It would make Nora very happy to have us announce it there.”

“And if I agreed to this...to making Nora happy, it would just be pretend, right? We wouldn’t have to...be intimate. Would we?”

This time Cole let the silence drift on for much longer than he knew was suitable, even in business. He was aware this question was meant to be a deal closer. He should just say no, there wouldn’t be anything intimate required and leave it at that—he knew that would be enough to close the deal and ensure that his playboy brother didn’t get his grubby mitts on his business.

However, he found that he didn’t want to make the woman sitting in front of him this guarantee. He surreptitiously let his gaze roam down her body. Her yoga pants and tank top combo, while not the jewel-covered bikini she was required to wear for The Revue, only seemed to accentuate her curves. An image of himself disrobing her, yanking that thin cardigan down her arms, and pulling that tank top over her head to reveal what lay underneath flashed into his mind.

He considered himself already married. To his job. The occasional discreet one-night stand arranged when he found that his other needs were getting in the way of his concentration at work. But obviously he’d let the time between one-night stands go too long, because he found himself suddenly unable to focus on the business at hand. Maybe Nora had been right about the needing to get laid part.

In any case, he found himself going off script to say, “Ms. Johnson, you are doing me a great favor, so this arrangement can be whatever you want it to be.” He then asked her, “Do you want it to be intimate?”

Chapter 5

“Do you want it to be intimate?”

Sunny felt something catch in her throat and then there came a flood of emotion, suffusing not just her cheeks but also her entire body.

And though she barely knew the man, suddenly she was wondering what it would be like to kiss him. The lines of his face were so sharp and hard. Did they soften when he kissed a woman? What would his hands feel like on her body? She could almost feel them now, disappearing underneath Sunny’s cardigan, pushing it off her shoulders—

Sunny! she chastised herself. What are you thinking? Get it together, girl!

Obviously she’d been single way too long. It had been a year since her breakup with Derek, the one that had inspired her to finally apply to grad school, and apparently the longtime drought was making her mind go to some seriously inappropriate places.

She averted her eyes, trying not to notice how rock solidly handsome Mr. Benton was in real life, how much hotter and sexier he read than his picture downstairs, as she answered, “I think it’s probably best if we keep this strictly professional, don’t you, Mr. Benton?”

Cole’s face remained impassive, but she could sense him smirking behind those green eyes. “Professional it is behind closed doors, but you do understand that when we’re out in public, we’ll have to at least act intimate...for my grandmother’s sake.”

Sunny thanked the heavens for her melanin, because she could once again feel her cheeks burning. “Yes, I understand, Mr. Benton.”

“Then perhaps you should call me Cole.”

Sunny bit down on a rising panic, wondering how she’d come up here to fight for the survival of The Benton Girls and had somehow ended up agreeing to pose as Cole’s fake girlfriend.

“I understand...Cole.” His name felt foreign in her mouth. “What exactly would I be expected to do?” she asked him.

Strangely, this question was the one that finally drained the sexual tension out of the conversation. “Yes, good question,” Cole said, leaning back in his chair, as if some spell had been broken and he was able to return to his businessman persona. “Let’s talk terms...”