“Thanks.” Stephanie lifted one of her feet and pointed to the five-inch heels. “Thinking about changing into something more comfortable.”
“Whatever you want will be fine,” she confirmed. “Anything goes in Vegas. From blue-jeans to formal wear. Most people are dressed somewhere in between.”
“I just wear whatever my boss tells me to wear.” Her husband nudged her arm with his hand.
The wife rolled her eyes. “He’s color blind. He’d look ridiculous if I didn’t lay out his clothes for him.”
“I know what you mean,” Steph agreed. “I do the same thing for…”
She halted as she realized, with a pang, that aspect of her job would soon be ending. It was part of her almost daily routine she enjoyed more than she was willing to admit.
The elevator stopped and the couple exited. “Have a nice evening,” the husband said, in parting.
In her room, Stephanie opted to add a lightweight cape made entirely of delicate lace. It was surprisingly warm, despite the holes. But her strappy heels had already started to rub a blister where they went across her little toe. She chose a beautiful pair of sandals with a more modest heel of three inches. A few trial steps proved the soft straps didn’t rub like the other pair, though her heel slid from side to side when she walked. Her only other choice was a cheap pair of comfy flats she’d intended for wearing around the hotel room.
I’ll be fine, as long as I’m careful.
She opened her door just as Branson stepped out of Carina’s room, jaw-droppingly handsome in his tuxedo.
“Hi.” Her voice squeaked like a nervous schoolgirl.
“Stephanie? I thought you went down with the guys.” His hair was a bit messy on top, and Steph wanted to smooth it, as was her custom. She stopped herself just in time. Carina appeared, her upper lip twitching on one side when she spotted Stephanie.
“Bran-son.” Carina said his name in a stretched-out singsong, like a flirty come-hither. “Will you zip me up?”
Carina turned, revealing the back of her gold satin evening dress, gaping open to expose a red lace thong.
“Seriously, Carina?” Bran muttered, as he tucked his cane under his arm to use both hands for the task.
Stephanie’s empty stomach churned. Some naïve part of her had thought, since they had separate rooms at the house and the hotel, they weren’t sleeping together. Evidently that wasn’t the case. From the self-satisfied expression on Carina’s face, she was thrilled to rub Stephanie’s face in it.
Steph pivoted toward the elevator, to avoid watching the intimate moment. “I’m heading down. See you guys in the casino.”
With long strides, she was pleased to make more rapid progress, thanks to her slightly more practical and much more comfortable shoes. She punched the elevator button multiple times, praying the doors would open quickly and allow her to escape the awkwardness. But evidently her guardian angel was taking a restroom break, because Carina and Branson arrived at the same time as the elevator.
On the ride down, she ventured a glance at Branson, whose expression was unreadable, as usual. Carina caught her looking, her mouth stretched into a perfect imitation of the Wicked Witch of the West.
Why not kill ‘em with kindness?
“Carina, your dress is beautiful.” Compliments were easy. Carina always looked perfect.
“Thank you. I’ll get rid of it after tonight, of course. Never wear a dress more than once.”
“Really? Seems like an awful waste.”
Carina was such a sharp contrast to Branson, who never expressed a squandering attitude, despite his wealth.
“I always donate them to the resale shop, so it helps someone less fortunate.” Carina lifted her pointy chin, seeming more like the witch with every passing moment. “I’d offer it to you, but of course it would be way too small.”
In her stunned silence, Steph struggled to appear unaffected by the jibe. She swallowed the rock inside her throat and turned her head. Carina already had Branson. Why did she have to rub Steph’s face in all her inadequacies?
“Carina.” Branson’s tone was filled with pent-up rage, clearly expressed on his face. “I’ve had enough of your insults.”
“What?” Carina’s voice was full of innocence and her eyes rounded in exaggeration. “I didn’t say she was fat. I was insulting myself for being too thin.”
Bran didn’t answer immediately, but his expression said he wasn’t buying it. Did Carina think he was that stupid? Or did she even care?
“You’ve changed, Carina,” Branson growled. “I’ve never seen this side of you.”
Carina’s hands went up to her slim hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The elevator doors opened on the tournament floor, and Steph hurried out, escaping while she could, their raised voices following behind her. She felt a sense of dread, recognizing how much Carina detested her. Flashing her badge at the doorway attendant, she slipped inside the casino, which was already filling up with players. Even in her designer gown Steph felt out of place, like a child dressing up in a costume. These people all had money to burn or they wouldn’t be in a charity tournament. Each had probably paid more for one entry ticket than she made in a year. Somehow, Branson had always made her feel his equal, even though he was her boss. But here, she felt everyone could see through her façade and was sneering at her, like Carina. She kept her head ducked downward as she wove through the aisles, looking for Finn and the guys, but could feel curious gazes following her. Her pulse was pounding a rapid beat in her ears.
I wish I was in jeans. I can’t even wipe the sweat off my palms.
She jumped at a hand on her shoulder.
“Hey, Stephanie,” said Jarrett. “Over here. Finn and Cole are playing blackjack.”
He offered his elbow, and she tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. Her heart rate slowed, which only made her angry at herself. I don’t need a guy to make me feel confident.
“You’re turning a lot of heads, tonight,” Jarrett bent to murmur in her ear as he guided her toward the back of the casino.
“I felt them staring at me. They know I’m a fake.”
“Are you crazy? They’re staring because you look absolutely beautiful. Too bad Branson can’t see you.”
“Thanks,” she said, though she knew he was being polite. But his words reminded her why she was here. To help Branson, and no other reason. Why was she worried about something superficial, like her appearance or being accepted by these affluent people who meant nothing to her? She had to focus.
