Sinning in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 2)

“Side dishes? That’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it?” she demands.

Eyebrows rising, I tell her, “All I offered you was a job, Marlena.”

Unconvinced, she says, “And you had to do that yourself? You couldn’t have sent someone in your stead? Or, hell, had the manager of your restaurant call me with an offer? Does your not-girlfriend know you’re here? Is she okay with this?”

Maybe it shouldn’t agitate me that she suggests I should run everything by Laurel before doing it, but it does. “I didn’t ask permission. I’m not—” I stop short, realizing anything I say here will only make her scowl harder at me.

Shaking her head, she tells me, “I’m sorry. I’m not that kind of girl. I’m not interested in your job or your money. Thank you for the offer, truly. Especially because you already know I’m not a very good waitress, it was nice of you to offer, but the answer is no.”

“I am not cheating on her. There’s nothing untoward going on here. I’m offering a job, no strings. I’ll rarely even see you. If I do ever see you, it will probably be when I’m there eating with her. Does that make you feel better?”

“I can’t,” she insists, shaking her head. “I’m not blaming you, I just… I can feel that this is a bad idea, and I’m going to listen to my instincts on this one.”

“No, you’re not,” I state. “This is stupid. I’ll take the money to your landlord myself. Trust me, you won’t be evicted.” Then, reconsidering, I look around her apartment. It’s clean enough so she clearly takes care of the place, but damn, is it small. In fact, looking into her living room, I notice the bedroom isn’t even completely closed off—merely hidden behind a bookcase that acts as a wall. She doesn’t even have a bedroom.

I’m also realizing I haven’t had sex in an eternity and I’m this close to a woman I find attractive and her bed. Damn, I do need to leave this apartment. Not until she stops being a pain in the ass, though.

“Actually, you’re already packed up. How about this? I own an apartment community in town. It’s a nice one—a hell of a lot nicer than here. I know for a fact there are some vacancies. Let me see what they’ve got, we’ll move you into one of those instead.”

Eyes widening, she demands, “How did you get to ‘move into an apartment I own’ from my refusal to take your job offer?”

“I’m a presumptive bastard,” I tell her. “And you’re moving. I’ve decided. You can get on board or not, but I’m having men move your stuff this evening.”

“Like hell you are,” she says, eyes blazing.

“You think you can stop me?” I ask, eyes dancing with amusement. “This apartment is closer to the restaurant where you work now anyway.”

“I do not work at your restaurant.”

Placing the bottled water down on her counter, I reach for my pocket to put the money away. I like this plan much better anyway.

Glaring at me, she asks, “Is it also closer to wherever you live, by any chance? Late night driving distance if you get bored at home?”

I can’t help smiling. It’s starting to amuse me how angry she’s getting at my perceived bad behavior. “You can believe me or not believe me, doesn’t matter. You’re not going back to Arizona and you’re not staying in this closet.” Pointing to the ugly-ass yellow chair, I tell her, “You can leave that, though. It’s older than I am.”

Now she looks offended on behalf of the chair. “You be nice. That’s my favorite studying chair. I’ve had it since junior high and it goes where I go.”

“It’s ugly,” I state.

“It’s mine and I love it,” she says, planting a hand on her hip and mean-mugging me.

Damn, she has a cute mad face. Good thing, since she’s been mad at me half the time I’ve known her. I wanna bury her little angry ass in the mattress, though, so I really do need to leave. Grabbing the bottle of water, I make my way for the door.

“My men will be by this evening. Don’t leave, or I’ll follow your ass to Arizona. And then I’ll be annoyed, and you have a hard enough time dealing with me nice.”

“You are an overbearing jerk, has anyone ever told you that?” she says, following me.

“I’ve heard much worse,” I assure her.

“You can’t just make me move. You can’t make me work for you. You can’t just take over my life like this.”

I pause with my hand on her doorknob and glance back at her. “You wanna bet?”

She must know better than to challenge me on that. She still scowls at me like I’m the biggest pain in the ass she has ever encountered, but she doesn’t argue. “I don’t even know where this apartment is.”

I won’t gloat too loudly, but I can’t help smiling. “Don’t worry, the guys will escort you.” Holding up the cheap bottle of water, I tell her, “Thanks for the