Raising the Stakes

“I’ll bet you say that to all your guests,” Gray said, and returned the smile.

“Only to the ones who perform good deeds.”

O’Connell tucked his hand into the pocket of his trousers. He wore a navy-blue suit, well-cut and tailored in much the same conservative style as the discreetly expensive ones Gray usually wore in the courtroom. He realized he’d expected shiny Italian silk and flashy gold jewelry. A pinky ring, at least. So much for his stereotype about Las Vegas businessmen—or at least about Keir O’Connell, who looked as if he’d be equally at home here or in a New York City boardroom.

“It was very decent of you to help one of my employees,” O’Connell said. He jerked his chin toward the alcove where the redhead stood, frozen, staring at them both.

“Oh.” Gray shrugged his shoulders. “It wasn’t much.” Not enough for the lady to have told me her name. “Actually,” he said, with a little man-to-man smile, the kind he figured would make it simpler to ease into a deeper conversation that would lead him to Dawn, “it’s my conscience that deserves thanks.”

O’Connell raised one coal-black eyebrow. “Your conscience?”

“Well, the lady’s car broke down just past a rise in the road. I was barreling along when all of a sudden she was right ahead of me. I stopped on the proverbial dime. I’m afraid I said some pretty rough things in what I guess you’d call the heat of the moment. Once I calmed down, I figured I owed her one.”

Keir laughed, just as Gray hoped he would. “I’m sure she doesn’t blame you for that, Mr. Baron. She told me that nobody else stopped to help her.”

“I’m sure someone would have, sooner or later,” Gray said, with what he hoped was the right amount of modesty.

“Maybe, but you’re the man that did. And I appreciate it. It may sound corny, but we like to think of ourselves as family at the Desert Song. Have you had your breakfast? I’d be happy to walk you over to the Reveille Caf;aae and buy you—”

“I’ve already eaten, thanks.”

“Well, then, it would be my pleasure to arrange for you to have dinner at La Chanson.”

“That’s very nice of you, Mr. O’Connell, but—”

“Please. Call me Keir.”

“Keir.” Gray hesitated. He and O’Connell were grinning at each other like old pals. Now was the time to ask about Dawn. On the other hand, maybe not. Maybe he was better off waiting until the conversation went on a little longer. And maybe, what the hell, he could solve one problem before he moved on to the next. “Keir, actually, if you want to thank me—”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, what I’d really appreciate is an introduction to the lady we’ve been talking about.” O’Connell raised his eyebrows again. Gray gave him a big smile. Any more smiling, they were going to be carted off to the nearest funny farm. “We never got around to introducing ourselves. She was so worried about being late for work…”

“Ah. That sounds like her. Well, in that case…” Keir put his hand lightly on Gray’s shoulder and the men began walking toward the desk. “I’ll be happy to oblige, Mr. Baron.”

“Gray.”

“Gray. It’ll be my pleasure.”

No, Gray thought, as they drew near the redhead, it would be his. At least Red didn’t look as if she’d seen a ghost anymore. Her color had gone from white to pink. Was she embarrassed to face him because of the way she’d given him the slip? Actually she didn’t look embarrassed so much as she looked trapped. What was her problem? Better still, what was his? Why would he want to pur

sue a woman who acted as if he carried the plague?

But he wasn’t pursuing her. He just liked things wrapped up, that was all. He’d already wasted more time thinking about the lady than she deserved. A handshake, an exchange of names, and that would be the last she would see of him.

By the time they reached the desk, she’d started fussing with some papers, thumbing through them, studying them, doing anything to avoid making eye contact, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

“Good morning,” Gray said. “Remember me?”

She looked up, clutching the papers to her like a shield or maybe a lifeline.

“Yes.” She smiled, if you could call that twitch of her mouth a smile. “Of course I do.”

“You certainly left in a rush yesterday.”

Her color deepened. “I know. I mean, I apologize. It’s just that…” She looked at O’Connell, hoping for assistance, but Gray had to give the guy credit. He was strictly an observer, watching the little tableau play out with his arms folded and an indecipherable expression on his face. “I, um, I was so late for work…”

“Don’t tell me your boss docked your pay,” Gray said, flashing a thousand-watt smile to make it clear that he was only joking. O’Connell got the joke and smiled, too, but not Red. She darted another glance at the boss, then shook her head.