Stripped Bare (Vegas Billionaire 1)

Finn wanted you to have this, on him.

Lamar

P.S. I suggest you don’t let him go so easily.

“What’s that?” Morgan asks.

“A phone, the type you can play games on.”

Her face lights up. All her friends have some sort of tablet or phone, while she has nothing. Not anymore, I tell myself, that all changes today. If Finn wants to pay for a service that I don’t need, but Morgan does, so be it. I’ll gladly let her use the phone.

My curiosity gets the better of me and I turn it on, wondering if he’s texted. I wait, longer than necessary, for a message to pop up. When nothing happens I drop it in my purse, grab Morgan’s hand and head for the door.

“Where are we going?”

“To the mall.”

Her face becomes even brighter. “Really?”

My heart breaks at how excited she is to go to the mall. It’s a treat and she knows it. “Yes, we need new clothes. Maybe some toys?”

She nods and squeezes my hand. “Could I get some socks? Mine have holes in them.”

I fight back a wave of tears and send a silent thank-you to Finn. He has no idea what he’s done for me. I don’t care about my dignity or the fact that I slept with him for a week to earn this money, because the look in Morgan’s eyes is worth it.

“Definitely new socks and anything else you want. Today, we don’t have to worry about money.” I kiss her on her forehead and pull her behind me and out of our room. Today, everything will be different.

18

Finn

I turn the picture over and back again, repeating the process over and over. She has a kid and more important, her name is Morgan. This whole week I thought Morgan was her pimp or boyfriend and I threw that in Macey’s face repeatedly. Mocking our situation, wondering if Morgan cared that I was fucking his woman. Of course he didn’t care because he doesn’t exist, but this Morgan does and I’m willing to bet she doesn’t have a clue about her mother.

I am, without a doubt, certain that Macey is Morgan’s mother. The conversations I overheard now make sense and judging by this little girl’s picture, she looks like Macey with a mix of someone more familiar. I just can’t place who or what it is.

Since I found the picture I haven’t let it go. I’ve been tempted to text Macey, but each time I bring up her number my fingers hover over the keypad. What do I even say? Thanks for rocking my world with your amazing pussy, but hey, you left this photo under my bed. I want to be straight to the point, but without showing her that I care. I don’t want her getting her hopes up that there is something between us.

Even though . . .

Setting the photo down, I turn and look out the windows of my office. From where I’m sitting, I can see people milling around the casino floor, enjoying themselves. They’re spending money here and for that I’m thankful. It’s been almost three weeks since Macey walked into my club and lost all her money. Approximately twenty-one days since my life changed. I wish I could say it’s been for the better, but the only decent part of this past month has been when she was here. I hate admitting that to myself, but it’s the truth.

My intercom buzzes and Hannah’s voice fills the dead space in my office. “Brandy is here to see you.”

I roll my eyes and think about not answering, but Hannah knows I’m in my office.

“Fine,” I say as I push down the button. It’s only seconds later that Brandy strolls in on high heels with her blouse tucked into her pencil skirt. On paper, she’s the perfect wife for any businessman looking to make it. Her life is a fucking pedigree of influential relatives, including her father who has funded both my projects.

“Morning,” she says, taking the seat in front of my desk.

“Brandy.” I haven’t forgotten her stunt with Macey, but I also haven’t called her out on it. It seems pointless now. Macey is gone, and I still have to deal with Brandy on some level.

“My father is throwing a fundraiser. You’re invited, of course, but I was wondering if you’d be my date.”

I start to shake my head when she puts her hand up. “I know what I did was wrong, Finn, but I was jealous. I’ve been in love with you for a long time and to see you with her, it hurt. I want you to look at me like that.”

“How exactly was I looking at her?”

“Like you were in love, but that’s preposterous since you don’t do the love thing.”

She’s right, I don’t. I won’t. It’s all too clear how quickly my father replaced my mother after she died. That’s not how you love someone. When you love someone, you’re there for them, heart, body and soul. You don’t bed hop the minute their back is turned or they pass away.