“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.
“Branson and Carina rode the elevator down with me. I need to find him, in case the crowd noise is bothering him.”
She tapped her ear, to indicate Bran’s receiver, and Jarrett nodded, making a sharp left turn. “He’ll go straight to the craps tables.”
He wound his way through the milling crowds, and pointed as they rounded another bend. “There they are.”
On the opposite side of a table where people were yelling and clapping and throwing dice stood Branson and Carina. Bran’s fingers were gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles, his face strained. Though Carina hung on his elbow, she was talking to the man beside her. She threw her head back, laughing at something the man said.
Jarrett led them around the table, edging in on Bran’s right side, where the tiny receiver was barely visible, especially with sunglasses camouflaging the receiver wire. “Hey, buddy. Glad you made it down. Want a drink?”
Bran shook his head. “No, thanks.”
Something exciting happened on the table, and the crowd cheered. Stephanie had never seen craps played, so she had no idea what was happening. One person rolled the dice and everyone else seemed very excited each time he threw them.
“No drink?” Jarrett raised his voice to be heard over the commotion. “Remember… what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. You always have a drink or two while you’re here.”
“Not this time.”
“Why not? You need to relax a little.”