When in Vegas II

Sylvie looked carefully around the casino, suddenly feeling very exposed and vulnerable with more cash than she’d ever even seen in one place. Once she was certain that Mr. Swanson wasn’t coming back, she slipped the envelope of hundred-dollar bills into her black clutch and slid out of the booth herself. Keeping a nervous eye on the people around her, she got out of the MGM Grand in a hurry.

Out on the street, Sylvie didn’t feel any safer, and of course her vehicle was back at her apartment building. She hated driving on the strip in the middle of the day and only got her black Ford F-150 out of its reserved parking spot in the complex’s parking garage when she had to. And if she would’ve known she’d be leaving the casino with thousands of dollars, it would’ve been one of those times.

Frustrated, Sylvie started walking toward her apartment as she pulled her cellphone out of her clutch and opened the screen to her contacts. She scrolled down to Kurt’s name and held her breath as she pressed the call button. As much as she hated taking advantage of Kurt, she was really just hoping for information…but would allow him to offer her a ride if he were to mention it…

“Syl? What’s wrong?” Kurt answered the phone anticipating the worst. Sylvie smiled to herself as she realized she only called Kurt when she was in trouble.

“Nothing, I just have a question,” Sylvie replied casually, hoping Kurt would relax.

“Oh, okay, shoot,” Kurt said, and Sylvie could hear the smile in his voice.

“Do you know anything about Dan Swanson over at the MGM Grand?”

“Casino Manager, right? Late forties, divorced, and dates a lot of dancers half his age. Why? He coming onto you?”

“I don’t think so. Well, maybe. I don’t know. He just gave me twenty-thousand dollars.”

Sylvie whispered that last part and she could sense Kurt’s body tense up on the other end of the call. Kurt was three years older than Sylvie and the two of them had dated five years ago when Sylvie was waitressing at Caesar’s Palace and Kurt was managing the bar. But then Kurt moved up the ranks until he was practically running the entire Vegas strip and Kurt broke up with Sylvie to protect her from the city’s underground ways of handling business. Now she just called when she was in trouble and he jumped at every chance to save his damsel.

“Syl, where are you right now?” Kurt asked, getting scary serious all of a sudden.

“I just left the Grand and I’m walking home,” Sylvie told him, still keeping her voice hushed as she passed dozens of people on the hot city sidewalk.

“Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

Before Sylvie could respond, the line was dead. She didn’t think Kurt meant for her to actually stay where she was on the sidewalk because she’d look weird if she did that and somebody would definitely notice her. So, she kept walking until she got to the next shopping center then found a bench in the shade and texted Kurt to let him know where he could find her.

Kurt’s white Mercedes rolled up to the curb in front of Sylvie only minutes later. Sylvie hated how Kurt made her feel, so she hesitated to stand up from the bench, already sensing the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. So, Kurt rolled down the passenger side window and leaned across the seat to ask her what she was doing.

“Sorry! Forgot what your car looked like!” Sylvie lied as she hopped up and hurried into the passenger seat of the Mercedes.

“That’s because we don’t see enough of each other,” Kurt replied with a sly smile, intentionally catching Sylvie’s eye before driving the expensive car out of the shopping center.

Kurt had a great smile that only looked better with his perfect lightly tanned skin. He had a mess of mousy brown hair that needed to be gelled to keep in place, but he usually kept it soft and free to flow any way it wanted, and it was such a light brown that it quite often got its own natural highlights from the Nevada sun. At six feet and three inches tall, Kurt kept himself thin but not noticeably muscular. But when you wear two-thousand-dollar suits, no one looks at your biceps.

Neither Kurt nor Sylvie spoke much while Kurt drove them to Sylvie’s apartment building. Kurt had been there a handful of times and may had even helped Sylvie pay her rent once or twice, but Sylvie had never seen where Kurt lived or even any of his offices. She knew that it was only to protect her from his world, and it made it all the easier to keep Kurt at arm’s length the few times a year that she was reminded of his existence.

When they arrived at Sylvie’s apartment, Kurt and Sylvie headed inside and immediately settled down onto the couch. Sylvie kept her distance from Kurt, making sure to sit as far from him on the couch as she could. She hated getting her hopes up every time he was around only to be disappointed time and time again.

“Let me see the cash,” Kurt said nonchalantly, holding his hand out for the twenty-thousand dollars.

Putting her clutch in her lap, Sylvie pulled the envelope thick with cash out and handed it over to Kurt. There was no reason not to trust him with it because twenty-thousand dollars was practically pocket change to him. She tried to forget about things like that whenever she saw him because of how intimidating it was, but it was hard to ignore with the way he dressed or the solid gold Rolex on his left wrist.

“So, explain to me why this Swanson guy gave you this money,” Kurt requested, flipping through the bills and inspecting a select few of them to verify their authenticity.

“I applied to work for him, and they had it narrowed down to four of us,” Sylvie explained, leaning forward on the couch but turning her body towards Kurt as she spoke. “They had a contest involving the playoffs and I lost miserably, but Swanson called me in today anyway. He gave me the money that he’d offered me personally as a sign-on bonus if I won the contest and just asked that I never bet on football ever again.”

“Let me guess, you rode the underdogs into the ground?” Kurt asked with an innocent chuckle.

“That’s not the point,” Sylvie scowled at him.

“Why didn’t you just come to me for a casino job? I only own like twelve of them,” Kurt questioned her, stuffing the stack of cash back into the envelope and handing it back to Sylvie.

“You’ve done enough for me, Kurt. I’d like to be able to do one thing on my own.”

With a heavy sigh, Sylvie stood up from the couch and walked her precious new stash of cash over to her kitchen counter. As she thought about the world of opportunities the money opened up for her, she realized it still didn’t solve her job problem and she might just have to ask Kurt for help one last time after all. Accepting help from him wasn’t the worst thing in the world and the thought of working for him actually made her smile because it possibly meant seeing more of him.

“Do you…have any openings?” Sylvie asked hesitantly from across the apartment.

“What did you have in mind?” Kurt asked, getting up from the couch and making his way over to Sylvie, standing across the counter from her.

“I was trying to be a pit boss,” Sylvie admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

“I don’t have a problem with that, but I was thinking more along the lines of Casino Manager or even General Manger,” Kurt offered, shrugging as well. They were his casinos; he could do whatever he wanted and give her any title he wanted to give her.

“I don’t have enough experience for that!” Sylvie exclaimed, taken aback by the suggestion.

“Who said anything about experience?” Kurt raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “Aren’t you just going to hang out with me all day no matter which position I give you?”

“Kurt, I’m trying to be serious!”

Annoyed, Sylvie shoved the envelope of a cash into a cow-shaped cookie jar on the kitchen counter and walked away from Kurt. She headed over to her dining room table and sat down at her laptop, turning the screen on to check her email. With any luck, Mr. Swanson had realized he’d made a huge mistake in the last hour or so and begged her to take the pit boss job at MGM Grand via email. But, no, her inbox was empty.

With her back to the kitchen, Sylvie didn’t see or hear Kurt move away from the counter. But he was suddenly next to her at the table and squatting by her side with his hand on her bare knee. His touch instantly sent warmth throughout Sylvie’s body and she didn’t want him to let go…ever.

“I’m sorry, Syl, I know you’re trying,” Kurt spoke softly. “If it’s going to be too weird working for me, I can talk to my buddy Chris over at The Paris. He owes me a favor.”

“I really do want to spend more time with you,” Sylvie replied with sadness in her voice, turning her face towards Kurt but keeping her eyes down. “But it’s probably best I don’t work for you.”

Kurt nodded his agreement and brushed his thumb across the bottom of Sylvie’s chin before standing up. Then he removed his cellphone from his inside jacket pocket and dialed a number, which ended up being his buddy Chris’ number from the Paris. The two Vegas bosses talked for a few minutes and Kurt fluidly mentioned having a friend looking for a pit boss position at a top ranked casino. It didn’t sound like Chris even questioned him because the conversation ended shortly after that and Kurt told Sylvie she had the job as soon as he hung up. But that didn’t surprise Sylvie because there was hardly man or woman in Las Vegas who dared disrespect Kurt by questioning him.

As much as Sylvie hated having to rely on Kurt once again, she absolutely loved him for coming through for her and her heart swelled in her chest as she looked at him. There wasn’t a thing in the world that man hadn’t done for her and she couldn’t deny that she wished more men were like him. As she kept her eyes on his confidently handsome face, she stood up and crossed the room to him just to wrap her arms around his waist.

“May I ask why you chose to wear this specific outfit when you met with Swanson today if you already knew you didn’t have the pit boss job at the Grand?” Kurt asked as he casually pulled Sylvie to him, hugging her shoulders.

“I thought maybe he’d see me and regret not hiring me,” Sylvie mumbled into Kurt’s ridiculously expensive suit. “And the last time I checked, I’m like really single and figured I might catch someone’s eye.”

“Syl, you’re gorgeous. You don’t have to dress like this to get a guy’s attention,” Kurt replied, petting her long red hair before pressing his cheek into it. “Have you even dated since we stopped seeing each other?”

“No… Have you?”

“No, but that’s because I’m mentally still with you…”

“But you’ve had plenty of sex since becoming Mister King of Vegas.”

“Well, yeah, it’s almost like it’s part of the job.”

Sylvie made a scoffing sound with her throat as she pulled away from Kurt, breaking their embrace. Aware that she had no real reason to be mad at him for sleeping around when they hadn’t even been in a relationship in five years, she shook her head free of the disgusted thoughts and re-composed herself.

“Look, Syl, we’re not getting anywhere by being apart,” Kurt admitted, taking a step toward Sylvie with emotion swimming in his oceanic blue eyes. “But I don’t want you to be with me just because I’m always around to help you out of a jam.”

“You’re crazy if you think that’s all this is about,” Sylvie replied, getting choked up on emotions of her own.

“Then do one thing for me. Give someone a real chance – I don’t care who. But I am begging you to fall in love with somebody else before telling me that I’m the only one for you. Because I cannot protect you from Las Vegas, but I will die trying.”