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2

Vanessa Vargas

I didn't have fancy clothes. I slept for 4 hours and packed in 30 minutes.

I the Uber was going to be here to pick me up from the airport in 10 and I was in the bathroom, pulling on a cheap, Target night gown that could pass as something relatively fine.

I grabbed my mascara and brush, running out of the bathroom and outside where a limo was.

"Ms. Vargas?" He asked and I blinked, nodding.

He opened the door for me.

I got inside, digging for my pocket mirror.

I quickly put on mascara and brushed through my hair before letting the loose curls hang over my shoulder.

My hair was too long, and thick. Fucking irritated.

"How was the travel?" He asked.

"I'm exhausted with such little notice." I answered, grabbing my deodorant and putting it on, finishing with bath and body works perfume I knew would fade soon enough.

I wish I could afford Chanel No.5. It smells incredible and not like a vanilla creamer you put in coffee.

"To be fair, the letter got delivered over a week ago." He smiled.

"Of course it did." I applied chapstick.

"If you're hungry, he's having lunch delivered for the both of you." He informed.

"Alright, sounds fantastic but I don't have the money to pay him back." I shoved everything back into my stupid baby suitcase.

"You're not paying. Look to your left." He said and I did, the sun setting and the lights beginning to shine.

"Welcome to Vegas."

"Vegas." I was literally dreaming, my adrenal and nerves at their peak as it all dawned on me.

I owed half a MILLION dollars.

Last time I checked it was only 30k I owed.

"I'm fucked." I whispered.

"You aren't. The King of Vegas has been awful nice considering the money he desires."

"King of Vegas?" I laughed at the cliche.

"He owns the strip. Nothing to really laugh about." He shrugged.

Still hilarious to refer to yourself as that.

He pulled in front of a building.

"Alright." He said and I blinked at the giant building.

Like the Gaylord but...bigger.

Obviously fucking moron.

I stepped outside.

"What do I ask?" I asked.

"Tell the guard inside your Vargas." He said and I grabbed my shit.

I walked inside, the smell of wealth smacking me in my face.

What was I gonna do?

I felt myself nearly break down but I took a few breaths, walking up to a giant 6' man with glasses.

"I'm Ms. Vargas looking for-"

"Come now." He gently grabbed my stuff from me and I followed him, realizing I was in fucking vans.

I forgot my flats. The bare minimum.

I followed him and we went silently up many floors in an elevator.

My heart was hammering in my ears.

When the doors opened I let him pass me so I could follow.

I looked around at a naked white marble hallway except one black door at the very end.

"It's Vanessa." The guard said.

The door opened, a taller man, less wide then the guard but still very large stood.

"Set her stuff wherever. Welcome Ms. Vargas. Come in." He moved aside, letting us in,

The guard left and the door clicked, I was going to shit myself at the silence.

"Go ahead, sit down." He spoke, his voice too deep, too... nice.

I was fucked.

That's all I could think.

My life was over.

I sat down at his desk, him going to the other side, sitting in his chair.

"Relax, Vanessa. Here." He pulled out boxes of food.

"Chinese. Everything. Take whatever you want." He handed me a plate and fork.

I felt this was a set up.

"My name is Spade. I know you're wary. But you're not the one who screwed me over." He folded his hands on the table.

I nodded.

"Your mother has been consistently coming here with a man named Chad Baker. The woman kept taking and taking. The first time I reached out, she said you'd take care of it. Can you look at me while I speak?" He asked and I raised my head, my eyes finding his.

Bright, nearly ice blue. Skin of porcelain, hair of charcoal.

I was horrified. This was so much money I didn't have.

"Sorry." I whispered.

He nodded.

"Did you want to take care of it?" He asked.

"No."

"I figured as much. Which is why you're here." He grabbed a plate and when he began grabbing food, I did too.

"Tell me what the past few months has looked like for you. Jobs, housing, transportation. Just talk." He began eating, his defined jaw moving as he slowly did.

"I work three jobs. One full time, two part time." I nodded.

I finished a bite, my nerves lessening.

"Full time night bartender at a Strip club. Usually work from about 8-9 pm to 3-5 am. Part time server at a sports bar I do typically 3 in the afternoon till about 6 or even 8. In the morning I work at a cafe. End at noon go hope for some mid day rest." I felt sad for myself.

"The cash tips is what I use for food and rent, my checks go to you. I bike everywhere-"

"At 3am?"

"Yeah." I nodded.

"What's your relationship with your mother?"

"Awful. Don't talk to her, don't speak to her, I just happened to be in her womb for a while." I shrugged, dismissing discussing her with a "stop asking" answer.

He nodded.

"I realized she kept coming. She was banned, but had multiple ID's and Credit cards. But I have an offer for you." He set down his plate, crossing his arms, a smirk on his face, a dimple pushing into view as his eyes roamed over me.

"Yeah?" I was once again, wary.

"Either you go back to your life, living off dirty cash and giving me the rest for pretty much the rest of your life, or, be my personal bartender/waitress." He said.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"You'll be living here. In our penthouse suite. Free food, clothing, electricity, Uber, no bills. But during my rounds of gambling I want to request drinks for me and possible other people, have you pour them, and have you bring them to my private rooms." He nodded.

"That's all? There's a catch." I said and once again, his eyes filled with amusement as they moved off my face and onto more of my body.

"No catch other than, you don't pour a drink without my permission. Or serve one without my permission. You do this for a while, you won't owe a cent." He leaned forward, his arms on the table.

"That can't be all. It can't be that easy." I whispered.

"Oh but it is, Ace. Easy peasy." He smiled, his smile stunning.

Ace?

"How long is a while?" I asked.

"Years."

"No. Years?"

"No?" He squinted.

"Years or life paying your deadbeat mothers debt." He stood.

"Fine."

"Good. Because we already reached out to all your jobs and landlord to be rid of everything." He shrugged.

"My books are there!" I gasped, immediately wishing I'd known this so I could've gotten them.

"Your books? Well I can get them sent here." He said, his voice not even showing a shred of amusement.

He understood.

"Please do." I nodded.

"I can make a call. But in the meantime. Let me show you where you'll be living." He nodded to my plate and I took it, following him.

He got into the elevator and pressed a number so high.

The 45th level.

"Mine is the 46th. Neighbors." He told me, grabbing his phone and texting someone.

I gasped when the doors opened revealing a beautiful view of Las Vegas.

"And there is a dress code ish." He looked at me.

"What is it?"

"Black, red, or white dresses. Short so you don't trip. Other than that, you have all sorts of clothes. That suit your casual style and your now fancier style. Your choices of Vans, Converse, Flats, or Heels." He walked into a huge bedroom to a closet and showed me.

"Silver jewelry, some gold, but your tan skin tone would shine with silver. Uhm... what else. Hair, you have scrunchies, Bobby pins, flattening iron, curling wand, and more. For hygiene, we have just generally good stuff to assist with dry skin. Chanel No.5 I recall hearing." He listed.

"How do you know this?" I asked.

"Went through your apartment, Ace. Saw your wishlist. Anyways, teeth, we have the whitening strips you use, you have your face wash and moisturizer. Yeah. I think I covered it all. Oh and in the process of having bookshelves installed upstairs making the guest room a small library since you'll be stuck here. You have free access to internet, Wi-Fi, and streaming services. I think that is it now." He nodded, looking out of the window in my new room into the city.

"I don't trust it's this good." I whispered.

"I know."

"I mean he called you the King of Vegas. You must need something from me." I groaned.

He turned.

"I can live fine without half a million dollars. But you're losing it all because a grown woman couldn't get her act together. So, you help me, I give you grace." He shrugged.

"Viva Las Vegas bitch." I grumbled under my breath.

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