Love's Wager

“Then get it out.”

“I came up with a theme for the New Year’s Eve bash, Rio in Reno. And part of the allure for our event is going to be a jackpot going to one big winner.”

Dread filled his eyes. “Go on.”

“Ten million dollars, which will be on display in the casino. I was thinking the cashier’s cage since it’s already reinforced and secure.”

“No,” he said. “Hell, no. You are not putting ten million dollars on display.”

Nina jumped into defensive mode. “Why ever not? It will bring a ton of people into the casino.”

“That’s insane.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re insane.”

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever been called.” And she’d been called a lot of names over the years. “What’s wrong with my idea?”

“Because a trillion million people are going to wonder how they can steal that ten million dollars. You’re inviting trouble and I’ll have to clean up the mess.”

The waitress brought her food and iced tea. Nina took an experimental bite and decided the food tasted all right. Not great, but good enough to eat.

“We don’t have to use the real thing, maybe pretend dollars. Just so people get an idea of what ten million would look like.” Nina didn’t really like that idea. People weren’t going to come into the casino to look at pretend dollars. They wanted the real thing.

“Fake money would be even worse,” Scott said. “It would still draw a criminal element because they’ll be thinking the real thing is somewhere in the casino, they would just have to find it.” He leaned his head back against the wall and banged it twice. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

“You can hire extra security. Maybe a couple of armed guards who are with the money all the time.”

Scott rubbed his forehead.

“I’m not doing this to you on purpose.” The draw of a ten-million-dollar jackpot would put the Casa de Mariposa on the map. Miss E. really liked the idea, though Lydia had been a bit more reticent. “And Miss E. and Lydia are okay with it.”

Scott sighed. “I’m not saying it’s a bad idea or a good idea, but that it’s a logistical nightmare.”

Nina wanted to pat his hand, but didn’t. “Life’s a logistical nightmare.”

He shook his head. “Let me think about. If I can’t come up with a safe way of doing this, then it’s off the table.”

Not the answer Nina wanted, but she was grateful he was willing to consider it.

* * *

A commotion sounded at the door. Scott look up to find Anastasia Parrish standing in the entry, her purse slung over one shoulder and her dog’s face peeking out. Oh no! Not her. Not here. Not now.

Irritated at the interruption, he scowled at Anastasia as she pranced across the room toward him. She wore a too-tight dress with stiletto heels that added a slinky element to her walk.

He’d been enjoying the verbal sparring with Nina. She didn’t back down and he rather liked knowing she was so passionate about her job. Truth be known, he was really starting to like her. He liked every little thing about her, especially the way her dress clung to her curves and the bounce in her hair. He wasn’t certain about the dog, but if she and the dog were a package deal, he could handle that. What he couldn’t handle was Anastasia and her little dog.

“There you are, Scott.” The woman grinned at him before turning to Nina, her smile dimming a little. “Nina Torres. I didn’t expect to find you here.” Her gaze moved rapidly back and forth between Nina and Scott.

“Anastasia Parrish.” Nina stood and Anastasia gave Nina an air kiss. “What are you doing in Reno?”

Anastasia set her purse on the table and the tiny dog inside barked at Scott.

“Pets aren’t allowed in the restaurant, Miss Parrish.” Scott picked the purse up and handed it back to her.

“Don’t be silly. Duchess isn’t a pet. She’s my emotional support dog. She even has a little sweater that says that.” Anastasia’s eyebrows rose.

“This is not negotiable,” Scott said, trying to stay calm. “The health department has very strict rules about pets in a food service area.”

“I’ll take him to my room in a moment. Did you bring Kong?” Anastasia asked Nina.

“Of course. One of the owners has a daughter, and Maya is dog-sitting,” Nina answered.

Anastasia clapped her hands. “Kong and Duchess need to have a play date.”

Scott stood. Dogs! Playdates! Really? He stood with the idea of escorting Anastasia out of the restaurant. But she slid into the booth next to Nina.

“What are you doing here?” Anastasia asked Nina. “I thought you were in Los Angeles.”

“Working. I’m doing promotions for the hotel. I assume you’re here playing.”

Anastasia gave Scott a come-hither look. “I’m trying to convince Scott to return to DC and work for Daddy.” She giggled a little.

No. No way. Oh hell, no way. The last thing he wanted was to work for her father. Senator Parrish had his fingers in a couple of pies that had the possibility of turning into a sticky mess that could ruin careers. Scott had no desire to be anywhere near the senator when, or if, the meltdown happened.

Nina gave him a raised brow. He shook his head.

“Daddy was so disappointed when you told him you couldn’t work on his new campaign,” Anastasia continued to Nina.

A look appeared in Nina’s eyes telling Scott she didn’t want to work for “Daddy, ” either.

Nina pushed her plate away. “Excuse me, but I have work to do. Scott, you will think about what I said.”

Anastasia stood and let Nina get out. Then she slid back into the booth and batted her eyes at Scott.

“I’ll get back to you,” he said to Nina. He wasn’t making any promises.

Nina tossed money on the table and left, her long-legged, enticing stride catching his gaze. She was hot, sexy and alluring. Scott wished he were going with her. He didn’t want to be left alone with Anastasia.

She put a hand on his arm. “You are so tense, Scott. You need a cocktail.” She snapped her fingers at the waitress hovering just out of range. “A peach margarita, please, and a martini for Scott.”

The waitress looked at Scott. The last thing he needed was a drink. He shook his head.

“Have you ever thought,” he said to Anastasia, “that the world isn’t your oyster and you can’t get everything you want because of who you are?”

“I can do things for you.” She leaned toward him, the neck of her dress gaping slightly to show more of her cleavage. “I can open doors, introduce you to all the right people. You don’t have to work here. You can be so much more. I want to help you attain your potential.”

“I don’t want your help and I don’t need your help,” Scott said, scowling. Anastasia wasn’t used to having people say no to her.

She waved a hand. “This is a third-rate casino in Reno.”