Wanna Get Lucky? by Deborah Coonts Read Free Book Online

I’d just about polished it off.
    One of the ladies found a pencil and handed it to me.
    “Velma, what’s your grandson’s name?” I asked, pencil poised. “The one who wants to go to Harvard?”
    “Pete. Peter Paisley the Fourth. He’s named after my late husband and the other Paisley men before him.”
    I noted his name and put the card in my pocket. “Ladies, I must go. Meeting you has restored my faith in humanity. Please, order anything you want from the restaurant or partake of any of the spa treatments, on the house, with my compliments.”

Chapter

THREE

    I ducked into my office. A change of shoes was definitely in order.
    As I suspected, Miss Patterson still manned her desk. Her eyes twinkled as she handed me my flats. “I trust everything went smoothly with Mr. Fujikara?”
    I nodded and with a grateful sigh, I sank into the chair opposite her desk. “A bit more expensive than I thought it would be. Can you believe the little shyster tagged me for two bottles of very nice wine
and
a bottle of Dom Perignon?”
    “I could take lessons from him,” she said.
    I snorted. “Be careful. You just might clever yourself right out of a job.” We both knew it was a hollow threat.
    “I’ve spent the last hour cleaning up your e-mail. You had anotherjob offer from the Athena. The salary and benefits they’re offering border on the obscene.”
    “My salary is already off the charts. The Big Boss will have to fire me if he wants to get rid of me. This is my home; I’m here to stay.”
    She visibly sighed with relief. “I prepared your response, but I haven’t sent it.”
    “A simple ‘thank you, but, hell no’ will do.”
    She smiled. “I figured that’s what you’d say.”
    My feet practically shouted with glee as I tucked them back into my comfy flats. “You know me well. Now, go home. I don’t want to see your frowning face for at least twelve hours.”
    “Are you going home as well?”
    “Soon, God willing, but I have to swing by the airport first. Oh, before you leave could you have Paolo meet us down front?” Paolo drove one of the company limos, and he usually worked the graveyard shift.
    “Us?”
    “Paxton Dane is going with me. Paolo can be my chaperone.” I had no intention of riding around Vegas at this hour of the morning alone with Paxton Dane—like I said, after midnight I have no self-control.
    “I see.” Miss Patterson’s expression didn’t change. “That could salvage the evening. Mr. Dane
is
a tasty bit of eye candy.”
    “I think I’ll leave that comment alone.” Weak, I know, but my skills suffer when I’m low on fuel and it’s late in the game.
    With a bland expression, but victory in her eyes, Miss Patterson handed me the satchel I called my purse. It actually was a prized possession—a Hermès Birkin bag. Obscenely expensive, sickeningly fashionable, it had been a gift from The Big Boss. “Jerry’s package is in your bag, and the Beautiful Jeremy Whitlock will be by tomorrow afternoon around two.”
    “Right. Thanks. And what about Felicia Reilly? I assume she isn’t on the property or she would be here.”
    “She called in sick.”
    “When was her shift to start?”
    “Midnight.”
    “I see,” I replied, but I didn’t see at all. Another piece to the puzzle, but I had no idea how it fit. “Thanks again. And remember, twelve hours. Go home. Get some rest.”
    I charged through the office door and raced for the elevator.
    PAXTON Dane was waiting just outside the front entrance. He gave me the once-over as I walked up. “Your car or mine? And, for the record, I liked the other shoes better.”
    “You don’t have to walk in them.” I breezed past him and motioned to Paolo. “You probably drive an old pickup with a gun rack and a coonhound slobbering out the window. Let’s take the company car.” I didn’t look at Dane as he stepped to the curb beside me. Something about the man kept me just a bit off balance. He practically oozed sex. I