Maureen Child - Tempt Me In Vegas

Music streamed from a lounge bar where the night theme included black-topped tables and pinpoint lights on the walls. Powerful fans ensured there was only a faint hint of cigarette smoke in the air. Cocktail waitresses in impossibly high heels and body-hugging black and silver costumes hurried through the crowd, balancing trays holding full drinks and empties. Somewhere close by, a woman shrieked in excitement and bells and whistles went off at shrill levels that had Terri quickening her steps. She was still smiling as she walked away from the crowds toward what looked like a circle of peace in the madness.

A glassed-in area held sofas, chairs and pots and pots of flowers, blooms bursting in every color imaginable. There were two women inside, each of them working on their phones. Terri walked past, promising herself she’d check it out personally later. She was a little surprised the enclosed area wasn’t more crowded with people looking to take a break from the noise.

For more than an hour, Terri wandered through the hotel and the surrounding grounds. She watched valets laughing with customers and then racing off to get their cars. She saw the bellmen loading carts with luggage. Hotel guests were a steady stream, coming and going. Just beyond the front of the hotel lay the famous Strip, bustling with thousands of tourists.

Her self-guided tour ended when her black heels finally began to make her feet pay. They were beautiful shoes and she loved them, but they had not been designed for hiking. She took a seat at the bar in the main casino and smiled at the bartender.

Glancing at his name tag, she said, “Brandon, I would love a glass of chardonnay.”

“Right away.” He was gorgeous—just like every other employee she’d noticed—and Terri wondered if good looks were a requirement to work here. He had short blond hair, kind green eyes and wore a midnight-black vest shot through with silver thread over a white button-down shirt and black slacks. As he poured, he gave her a wide smile. “Your first stay at StarFire?”

“How could you tell?” she asked. “Am I that obvious?”

He shrugged, set her glass down on the gleaming black bar top and said, “It’s the way you’re looking around. As if you’re afraid you’re going to miss something.”

“In my defense, there’s a lot to see.” Terri took a sip and set the glass back down with a satisfied sigh. “Oh, that’s good, thanks. And yes, it’s my first time here. It’s a beautiful place. Do you like working here?”

It wasn’t just small talk; she really wanted to know how people felt about their jobs. And if she was now part owner, shouldn’t she?

He shrugged, wiped down a nonexistent spot on the bar top. “No real complaints. Good pay, meet nice people—” He winked.

She smiled and had another sip of the great, icy-cold wine. “Really. I’m curious.”

He planted both hands on the edge of the bar, tipped his head to one side and gave it some thought. “On the whole, sure. It’s a great hotel. Classy guests. Being a bartender, you see some really weird stuff, but not so much here. It’s absolutely the best place I’ve worked.”

She was glad to hear it.

“But,” he added, “it’d be nice if they were more flexible with the shifts.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged and gave a quick look around as if to make sure no one could overhear him complaining. “They don’t like us trading shifts if something comes up—like, I had to take my wife to the baby doctor for an ultrasound last week—”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks!” He gave her a wide grin and a thumbs-up. “It’s our first. A girl. Anyway, I work afternoons, but I needed the late shift that day. Couldn’t switch with the night bartender, so I had to lose a day of pay.” He shrugged. “Things like that. It’s not bad, necessarily, but it’d be good if they were more willing to work with us.”

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