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Authors: Erin Ashley Tanner

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BOOK: Devious Little Lies
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Chapter Three

“Rena, hurry up. We’re about to go on.”

“Shut up, Vanessa. I’m coming.”

Groaning, Rena got up from her seat in front of the brightly-lit mirror. It was show time once again. Her feet were still nearly red from her performance last night and the subsequent after party her boss ordered all the girls to attend. She’d wanted to say no, but when you worked at The Venetian, your time was not your own. Whatever the guests wanted they got, including you. She couldn’t help shuddering as she remembered the creep from last night who’d repeatedly grabbed her ass until she’d slapped him and then poured her drink all over his expensive suit.

Rena may have been forced to go to that party, but she was not some whore that a man had a right to grope whenever he felt like it. The prick had been lucky she hadn’t smashed her stiletto into his balls. Adjusting her fake diamond headdress, she frowned. You’d think with all the money that was raked in night after night they could afford some better costume jewelry. The headdress looked like it had seen better days. It was definitely not something Rena wanted to wear on such an important night, but the show had to go on. Whenever she thought about hanging it up, she remembered why she kept putting up with so much…Tricia, her nine-year-old daughter, who was right now being watched by a babysitter while Rena worked.

“Rena!”

“Ugh.”

Tugging the hot pink gown up over her breasts, she left the dressing room and walked down the hallway and up the flight of stairs that lead to the stage. Standing behind the giant red curtain already were my fellow co-workers. Dressed in varying colors and shortened scraps of material that left little to the imagination, she was immensely glad that for tonight at least she was a little bit more covered than usual. Sometimes going after what you wanted had its rewards. At least she hoped tonight would prove that. Otherwise, she was likely going to lose her job, something she could ill-afford right now, regardless of the other bullshit that went along with it.

“About damn time. Your big debut tonight and you’re about to be late.”

“I swear, sometimes I think you enjoy riding me.”

Petite, brown bombshell Vanessa put her hands on her ample hips and rolled her eyes.

“If I didn’t ride you, as you call it, you would still just be a part of the regular dancing girls like the rest of us. Instead, now you have a chance to showcase the talent you’ve been hiding and make a crap-load more money. Suck it up, buttercup.”

She smiled a genuine smile. “Well, when you put it like that…thanks, Vanessa.”

“Anytime. Now go show ’em what you’re made of.”

Rena nodded, trying to banish the new butterflies in her stomach and listened for her cue. “Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you’re all enjoying your stay at The Venetian. I also hope that the show we put on tonight will leave you breathless with excitement. Tonight, we have an extra special treat for you. I present to you, Miss Ravishing Rena.”

Taking a deep breath, she walked through the curtain and grabbed the microphone from Clive. The glacial look in his eyes was enough to make her rethink her big idea, but it was too late now. The show had to go on. Besides, if she screwed this up, she was on her way out. But then again it was better to go out as a lion instead of a mouse. Taking her place at the center of the stage, she tilted her head back and waited for the music. As the strums of the music began to play, she looked out into the audience.

Her eyes scanned the tables placed closest to the stage. Directly in front of the stage was a man smoking a cigar. His eyes were riveted on her. She was slightly taken aback by the force of his gaze and quickly looked away. Her nerves were already getting to her without the man staring at her like she was something he wanted to devour. Besides, she had to do Marilyn justice. Taking a deep breath, she started singing “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend.”

The hot spotlight shone on her as she moved across the stage, soon making her forget her nerves as the words to the song poured from her. Around the stage, men were leaning closer, ignoring their wives and girlfriends. But no one was watching her more intently than the man at the center table. There was an aura of power that emanated from him. Like a panther, he seemed poised and ready to pounce at any moment. As she finished the chorus of the song, confidently she walked to the very front of the stage and sang directly to him.

His eyes grew dark and a muscle moved in his jaw. She’d affected him and she was sure in more ways than one. As the room exploded with thunderous applause, Rena walked away with a huge smile on her face. She was pretty damned amazing and it looked like she was going to be keeping her job after all. Moving back through the curtain as the other girls got ready for their performance, Vanessa quickly gave her a thumbs-up before she disappeared.

Wiping a bead of sweat from her brow, she quickly made her way to the dressing room. It was definitely time to get out of her pink stilettos. They were sexy, but absolute murder on her feet. Entering the dressing room and finding herself mercifully alone, she settled into the canvas-backed chair she’d vacated earlier and removed the headpiece from her dark hair. Staring at herself in the mirror, she mused over how un-Marilyn she looked. She’d refused to dye her hair platinum blonde for fear of it falling out. But she’d tightly curled it into Marilyn’s famous bob and her dress was right on the money. Bending down to unstrap her shoes, she heard a knock at the door. The last thing she wanted was to be bothered right now.

“Come in.”

Slipping the shoes off her feet, she looked up and into the mirror just as Clive entered the room, shutting the door.

“Came to congratulate me?” she asked.

“You did good. Better than I expected. You also got yourself some fans.”

“You being one of them?”

“Absolutely, but not just me, there’s a really special one asking to meet you.”

“No, Clive.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“You forced me to go to that party last night and have my ass grabbed by perverts half the night. I’m not doing that again. Not tonight. Cut me some slack.”

Clive put his hands on her bare shoulders and she tried hard to keep the revulsion she felt to herself. Clive the Slime always had an angle. Experience had taught her that lesson as well.

“Rena. Rena. Listen, babe, the gentleman who wants to meet you is nothing like some of the slobs at the party last night. He’s connected, if you get my drift, so please do this for me. The last thing I need is problems with a guy like him.”

She shrugged off Clive’s hands. “You want me to play nice with some cheap hood? Not interested.”

“Damn it, Rena, now I gave you a chance tonight. I took a big risk on you. If things would have flopped it would’ve been my ass on the line with management, so you owe me. Now come on. Besides, according to rumor you’re the child of a connected guy yourself.”

Frowning at Clive, she fought the impulse to smack his greasy face. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, Clive. If I don’t even know who my father is, what makes you think that you do?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Whatever. Now, are you going to do this or not?”

Rena waved her hand like a queen motioning for her jester. “Fine. Fine. Bring him in.”

“Thank you, Rena. Now you be nice and there’s going to be a big bonus in your next paycheck,” Clive said before turning away.

“There had better be.”

Sighing, she waited as he opened the door and stepped out. A moment later he was back allowing a tall, well-muscled man to enter the room. Rena nearly bit her tongue. It was Mr. Intense from the front row. Ignoring the pitter-patter of her pulse, she turned around to face him.

“Rena, this is Mr. Rosetti. He was very impressed with your song,” Clive said.

Her attention was on the gentlemen standing in front of her. Clad in a dark, black suit with a cream shirt underneath, and diamond cufflinks, his taste for the finer things was evident. But nothing could be more evident than the intent on his face as his eyes roved over her.

“Is that true, Mr. Rosetti? Were you impressed by my song or something else?”

Clive gasped but Rena wasn’t sure why. He, of all people, should know by now that she bit her tongue for no one. He shook his head behind Mr. Rosetti as the man met her gaze. She ignored Clive. Whether this man was “connected” or not, she was no one’s shrinking violet.

“The voice and woman who wields it.”

His voice, a smooth baritone crawled up her skin and settled deep down into her pores. Goose bumps formed on her arms.

“Good answer. Nice to meet you, Mr. Rosetti.”

He shook his head as he reached for her hand. “None of this Mr. Rosetti nonsense. Call me Tony.”

She smiled. “Well…Tony, it’s nice meeting you.”

He slowly removed the arm-length pink satin glove, so that it softly brushed her skin. She shuddered. With her bare hand in his, he brought it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Slowly, she tried to disentangle her hand, but her newest fan was having none of it.

“Is there something else?”

“Yes. I’m just marveling at this gorgeous woman who’s going to be my wife.”

Rena laughed. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely. I’m a man who knows what he wants.”

“That may be the case, but what makes you think I’m available?”

“Are you saying you aren’t?”

“I’m just saying, I’m not an easy woman to get.”

A laugh rumbled in his chest. “Didn’t think you were, but don’t worry. I love a challenge.”

* * * * *

“Passengers, please fasten your seatbelts. We’re about to make our descent into Las Vegas. Thank you for flying with us.”

The announcement returned Rena to the present. She had no idea why she was remembering the first time Tony and she had met. There was no point in lying to herself. Her relationship with her husband was fucked up and it had been for a long time, but she still loved him and she hated herself for it. The man Tony was now was nothing like the man she’d met at The Venetian all those years ago.
Or maybe he was and you just didn’t know it.

There it was again. The questions and thoughts had plagued her after every visit with her husband. She was so tired of it. Tired of reliving the past in her mind and wishing for something that would never be again. Tony was who he was and no matter how much time had passed, a part of her still loved him. But her husband would never change. Not for her. Not for anyone.

As the old people said, she’d made her bed and now she had to lay in it. And that meant staying married to a man who couldn’t be there to hold her at night, to love her the way she needed. Or treat her with the respect that she deserved. But there was nothing she could do about it. Till death do us part was what she’d vowed and with a man like Tony, it meant exactly that.

Chapter Four

Finally having made it inside, Rena waited for her luggage. People milled around her in all directions. McCarran International Airport was just as busy as ever.

“I’m ready to go now!”

Rena looked as a little blond boy ran past her at top speed. An out-of-breath brunette woman followed him.

“Tommy. You get back here right now.”

The woman took off dragging her large, brown suitcase behind her as she chased the little boy through the airport. Rena had no idea how the so-called “modern day” parents let their children run rampant everywhere. Apparently disciplining your children was a thing of the past.
And that is what’s wrong with the world today.
If her daughter had ever acted like that, Tricia would’ve received a butt whooping she wouldn’t have been likely to forget.

“Makes you wonder just how terrible he is at home.”

Glancing to her right, a tall, brunet man stood next to her and boy was he handsome. Smooth-shaven jaw. Hazel eyes. His crew neck shirt and jeans fit his well-muscled body. He was attractive and no doubt much younger than her as well.

“No it doesn’t.”

He faced her and the force of his gaze startled her. It was intense and commanding, just like her husband’s. A small shudder raced up her back.

“Why not?”

“Because if he’s acting like a brat in public with no concern for his actions, you can be damn sure he’s even worse at home.”

“A real rugrat, huh?”

“Yes. He needs a good smack upside the head.”

“A woman after my own heart. Not a lot of people believe in disciplining children these days.”

“And that’s why the world has gone to shit.”

“I agree with you there. My old man would’ve knocked the ever-loving piss out of me if I’d even thought about acting like some of these kids today.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his small revelation. “Sounds like you had a real upbringing.”

He laughed. “I did. I got more butt whoopings than I’m proud to admit. What about you?”

“Well, it was just my mom and me, but you better believe she had no problems beating my ass if I needed it.”

She glanced back at the luggage carousel to hide the fact that she hadn’t stopped checking him out. Rena may be married but she wasn’t dead. And besides, she had no reason to feel bad. It wasn’t as if the man hadn’t sneaked a peek of his own.

“Finally,” she said. Stepping forward, she grabbed her small Prada suitcase before turning back to the stranger. “Well, it was nice chatting with you.”

“It’s always nice to run into someone you can strike up a conversation with. Would it be alright if I bought you a cup of coffee?”

Rena shook her head, suspicion swiftly chasing away any warm feelings she’d just had.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Clutching the handle of her luggage she stepped away.

“Why not?”

Stopping, she frowned at him. Was he serious? She honestly didn’t know what to make of his question, but perhaps she was going to have to spell it out for him.

She raised her left hand where he could see it. “Because I’m married.”

Hands in the pockets of his blue jeans, he laughed. She stared at him dumbstruck as the corners of his eyes crinkled in the midst of his laughter.

“Since you think the fact that I’m married is something to laugh about, then I need to be going before I forget I’m a lady.”

“Wait. Wait. You misunderstand.” He put his hand on her shoulder and Rena looked down at his hand, manly and strong on her skin.

“And what might I be misunderstanding, other than the fact that your daddy never taught you not to put your hands on a woman, much less a stranger?”

Quickly he took a step away from her. Running a hand through his short hair, he shook his head.

“I’ve messed this all up. Forgive me. I laugh sometimes when I get nervous. I know you’re married. I didn’t miss the gigantic rock on your finger, as well as the matching diamond band when I came to stand next to you.”

“Oh.” Rena brushed a lock of hair away from her face. Now she was starting to feel silly, a rare feeling for her.

“Yeah. I could see you were married and I figured it would be safe to chat with you because you wouldn’t think I was hitting on you like a single woman might.”

Well, that pretty much sealed the deal. “I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. Why would you say something like that?” he asked.

“I’m just so used to men hitting on me, I kind of assumed you were doing the same thing. I’m sorry.”

He made a waving motion. “Nothing to be sorry for. We both just got our wires crossed.”

“It seems that way. Again, I apologize. You’re young enough to be my son and here I am thinking you’re hitting on me.”

“You’re married and I have a girlfriend, so we’re both off limits, but under different circumstances I’d definitely be hitting on you.”

“Well, how about that cup of coffee?” Rena asked.

“I’d like that. My flight is delayed so it looks like I’m stuck here for a while.”

“Sorry to hear that. The least I can do is treat you to some Starbucks.”

Rena made a motion for him to follow her. Together they walked side by side through the airport. She was all too aware of his presence next to her and for the first time the scent of his cologne registered with her senses. It was cool and soothing. She liked it.
And just why are you even thinking like that?
She ignored her inner voice. If a handsome, young man wanted to have coffee with her, then she was damn sure going to enjoy it.

As they made their way to the ever-so-popular coffee shop, Rena was aware of the looks they were attracting. She was alluring in more ways than one and her companion was movie star handsome. Perhaps she should feel ashamed of herself for noticing a man in such a light, especially a much younger man. But after the emotional turmoil she’d experienced with her husband once again, she was in a vulnerable state. Something about being in the presence of this man had completely stripped away her usual standoffish manner. They entered the coffee shop and walked up to the counter. He took out his wallet and turned to her.

“What would you like?”

“I thought I was buying.”

He shook his head. “I never agreed to that. A gentleman does not let a lady pay.”

“Well, since you put it like that so sweetly, I’ll have a small, white hot chocolate.”

“Alright. How about you get us a table and I’ll bring it right over?”

“Sure.”

Rolling her bag with her, she looked for a table and noticed a vacant one in a corner. Not only was she having a drink with a stranger, but now she was compounding it by sitting in a corner where no one would be able to see them.
What is the matter with you? Seriously?
She did not need her conscience attempting to beat her down today. It was just a cup of hot chocolate. Why in the hell did she need to rush home to an empty house? To an empty bed and another lonely night with her vibrator? Besides, it wasn’t like she was cheating. Rena took her seat and a few minutes later he joined her.

“Here you are. One white hot chocolate.” He sat the cup down in front of her.

“Thank you. What did you get?”

“The same. Figured it was time to try something new.”

“White hot chocolate is something new?” she asked before taking a sip from her cup.

“Believe it or not, yes. I’m usually a coffee with heavy creamer kind of guy.”

She put her cup down and regarded him as he tried his own hot chocolate. Her eyes drifted to his strong throat as he drank the warm brew.

“You know you can tell a lot about a man by how he takes his coffee.”

He put the cup down and smiled. For some reason, Rena found herself beguiled. It had been a long time since she enjoyed a man’s company without questioning his motives. The young man didn’t know it, but he was giving her a rare gift she wouldn’t forget.

“And what does my taste in coffee tell you about me?” he asked.

“That you’re straight-laced. You don’t like a lot of fluff or distractions.”

He rubbed his chin. “Straight-laced, huh? That makes me sound pretty boring.”

“Well then how would you classify yourself?”

“Let’s see,” he said leaning back in his chair. “I like my coffee black with no sugar and lots of cream. I figure that means I’m a take-life-by-the-horns kind of man, strong at all times, able to handle all situations.”

“Wow. I’m impressed. You know your coffee.”

“I’d like to think I know myself. Now let me tell you what I know about you. You’re different. Sweet, but different enough to blend in, in any situation. But just like hot chocolate, your temper can be too if somebody crosses you,” he said.

His eyes dared her to say that he was wrong. For a moment, she was stunned. In less than five minutes, this man had read her entire life. Was it just dumb luck he figured her out so easily based on her drink preferences? Or was there something else to it like chemistry? No. She was being stupid. It was just a lucky guess. But as they stared at each other while enjoying their hot chocolates, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was a first time for everything.

“You’re not a psychic, are you?” she asked.

“Hardly. If that was the case I’d be rich instead of pushing paper at a boring nine-to-five.”

“So what’s your line?”

“I’m an accountant at a large firm.”

“You don’t look like an accountant.”

“You said I looked straight-laced,” he mused.

“Not that straight-laced.”

“What would you think I do for a living?”

“Underwear model.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

He raised a brow. “Underwear, huh? Not sure how I’d feel about showing all my goods. Besides, I’m not sure my girlfriend would like it.”

“That’s very considerate of you. Most young men would think about all the women they could get and all the money they could make. You’re very mature for your age.”

“For my age? I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or be offended.”

She reached across the table to touch his hand. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

He looked down at where their hands touched and then he smiled. His other hand covered hers.

“I know.”

Two words. Her mouth opened in an attempt to say something, but no words came. Instead, the noise in the coffee shop faded and they were just two people lost in each other’s eyes trying to ignore the truth that was right in front of them. They had chemistry. The type of chemistry that made you contemplate throwing your cares to the wind and having a hot, satisfying liaison with a stranger.
Damn Tony for throwing me off my game.

“You’re an incredibly beautiful woman. Maybe you should be the one who’s modeling.”

“Lingerie?”

She was flirting now, but she couldn’t help it.

“Now that would be a real gift to the world, but I’m sure your husband would not be in favor of it.”

Their hands were still holding each other, but the mention of her husband brought her back to reality. She was not some young girl flirting with a crush. She was married to a man who would be just as likely to order this man’s murder for touching her hand as he would to look at him.
Fuck Tony
her inner voice defiantly said.

“A gift to the world. You’re doing so much for my ego today. You make an old woman happy.”

He rolled his eyes. “Old woman? Please. You can’t be a day over thirty and that’s pushing it.”

Laughter bubbled up inside her. “Thirty? I wish. I have a twenty-year-old daughter, but thanks for the compliment.”

“I can’t believe that. No.”

“It’s true. I’m one woman who doesn’t lie about my age.”

He tried again. “Okay. Thirty-five then. You had her young.”

“Wrong. Try forty.”

“You are a drop dead gorgeous forty-year-old. You look better than women half your age.”

“Now you’re exaggerating,” she told him. Secretly she was basking in his praise.

It was one thing to hear from her husband that she was hot, but it was an entirely different matter to hear it from a man in the same generation as her daughter. His eyelids lowered as he scrutinized her even closer. She knew he was searching her face for the smallest sign of wrinkles. When he found none, his gaze traveled downwards. Though she wasn’t showing any cleavage, there wasn’t a shirt in the world that could hide the fact that she was nowhere near flat-chested.

His eyes lingered there for seconds longer than they should have, but she didn’t open her mouth to complain. Instead, she sipped her drink and sat up straighter, which only served to thrust her breasts out at an even more attractive angle.
I should be ashamed of myself.
Yes, perhaps she should be at this point, but right now she didn’t give a shit. If he wanted to look her over and stroke her ego a bit in the process, she was all for it. Besides, nothing would come of any of their harmless flirtation. He was simply reminding her that above all else she was still a stunning woman.

“I still don’t believe it,” he finally said.

“After all of that scrutinizing you just did? I feel like you could see all the pores in my face.”

“I looked, but I didn’t find anything. You’ve obviously found the Fountain of Youth.”

Rena laughed as she met his eyes. He wasn’t joking. He was staring at her and shaking his head in wonder. Suddenly she was sad to the very core of her being. She looked away, least he see the tears slowly forming in her eyes. She cleared her throat as quietly as she could, but apparently not quiet enough.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

She shook her head, refusing to look at him. “Of course not.”

A warm hand grabbed her chin, forcing her head to turn. His eyes were soft, brows drawn together in concern. She could feel the strength in his hand even as he gently held her face. He was touching her again and she should be telling him that he had no right to. He was a stranger being more familiar with her than he had a right to be. But she couldn’t say a word. Not when her raw emotions had resurfaced again.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he said.

BOOK: Devious Little Lies
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