Sweet Sinful Nights(19)
A minute later the food arrived, and Mindy flashed a bright smile. “And maybe get her a gift too, King Schmuck.”
That was when it hit him.
*
After he finished his scrambled eggs and toast, and downed a hearty dose of coffee for fuel, he headed to his next meeting at the Luxe Hotel. Along the way, he made a quick detour into a boutique inside that hotel.
He scanned the shop quickly, spotting in seconds something that would be perfect for Shannon. She wasn’t a flowers and chocolate kind of woman. And while he doubted that a material object would be enough for the mea culpa he needed to pull off, he had to start somewhere. He wasn’t going to wait in his office and stare dreamy-eyed at his phone, wishing for a call. No, he was going to do everything he’d failed to do years ago.
There was no way on earth, no way in heaven or in hell, that he would let the woman he wanted slip away from him again. He knew precisely how to go after everything he’d ever wanted in life. Tenacious in pursuing his career, determined in climbing up the ladder, he’d achieved all he desired in the entertainment business, and now he was fortunate enough to build on that with his wildly successful clubs.
Only one thing had eluded him.
Her.
Now, he had the opportunity for a second chance. The game was on, and he was going balls to the wall to win his woman back.
*
As the meeting with their real estate team drew to a close, Brent rubbed the pads of his fingers across his cheek. Perhaps some part of him was trying to remember the burn from her slap. He wasn’t a masochist. Not in the least. But it was so her. It was such a part of how they were together.
Fucking and fighting. Fighting and f*cking.
As soon as this meeting ended, he’d call her. He’d pick up the phone and ask her to get together. If that didn’t work, he’d head to her office and begin the grovel fest. He’d make his first apology. He’d probably have ten thousand more to make, but if that was what it took, he’d do it. He was heading to New York in two days to deal with the hurdles Edge faced there, so he needed to move fast.
“So, that’s the plan for the next six months, now that we’ve got Shay Productions on board for their dance shows. And that’s what we need from you as we expand overseas,” James said as he shut his leather folder and laid his pen on the conference room table with gusto.
“Love it,” said Tate, the lead real estate attorney, who was tasked with handling their deals for new facilities. “I’ve got some properties in mind. Let me scope them out and we’ll reconvene in two weeks.”
As James and Brent left the meeting, James slowed his pace and lowered his voice. “You okay? You seemed a bit distracted there at the end.”
Brent laughed, as if him drifting off to Shannon Land was nothing. It was nothing, because he could juggle. “Nope. I’m all good.”
“Glad to hear,” James said as they wove through the casino on their way to Edge. “By the way, what was the deal with you and Shay?”
Brent turned to James, and shot him a curious look. “What do you mean?”
James shrugged. “Just seemed like there was some vibe between you and Shay, who incidentally is smok—”
Brent’s spine straightened and he sliced a hand through the air, cutting him off. “Don’t say it.”
James raised an eyebrow. “Don’t say what?”
“What you were about to say.”
“What was I about to say?”
Brent stopped walking in front of a roulette table and narrowed his eyes. “Look. I know what you were going to say, man. And it’s not f*cking appropriate. That’s all,” he said, as they resumed their pace past the blackjack games.
James held up his hands in surrender. “So you two were friends or something?”
Brent laughed. He wasn’t going to get into it now. He didn’t need to lay out his past. Shannon was a private woman. She clearly wanted her carefully constructed present identity kept secret. His first step in proving that he could be the man she needed would be to protect who she was.
“Like I said, I knew her in college,” he said, giving nothing more away as they reached the front door to their flagship club on the property of the Luxe Hotel. Edge was quiet now in the late morning, since it didn’t open until five. Much later, there would be a line snaking along the velvet rope by the brushed steel exterior wall. The purple sign bearing the club’s name in crisp, clean letters would be bright and beckoning, calling out to the club-goers of Vegas who were eager to party, to lounge, to dance, to drink, to be treated to bottle service from gorgeous bartenders, and to move and sway. To celebrate pending marriages, weekends away, or just nights on the town.
“Maybe you’ll get to know her better now,” James said. “Because there she is.”
As Brent turned the corner, Shannon was waiting by the front door of Edge.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The club had a different energy during the day. No music played. The lights were bright, shining in every corner. Shannon felt as if she was wandering backstage and peering at all the pulleys and levers, the sets and costumes that made a Broadway show go ’round. Because there were no smoke and mirrors now. Those would only come with an audience or a crowd in the evening.
Even with the lights switched on, Edge still possessed the sleek sensuality it was known for, with its silver bar, low divans, gauzy curtains, and its rich colors—colors of desire, like wine reds and deep purples.