Jingle of Coins (8 page)

“Right. Follow her when she leaves, and let me know where she goes. Don’t make contact, and don’t let her catch on that she’s being followed.”

“Got it. Where and when do we meet?”

Glen pulled out a small cell phone and placed it on the seat. “I get off at three. I’ll check in with you then.” He glanced at his watch. “Any questions?”

“Nope.”

“Good.”

The smell of egg, cheese, and onions beginning to burn interrupted Emily’s musings about her encounter with Glen, and she scooped the omelet out of the frying pan. Obviously he’d felt it necessary to tell her about Kate’s profession. She could only hope that it had been because he was interested in her. Nothing else she’d come up with made any sense.

God knows she was certainly interested in him. She recalled the ripples of muscles across his back as he swam and the flatness of his stomach. Oh yeah, she was definitely interested!

Glancing at the wet swimsuit clinging to her body, she decided it was time to buy a new one—preferably something sexy. It wouldn’t hurt to look enticing both in and out of the pool.

Humming softly, she carried her breakfast into the bedroom and set it next to her computer. It didn’t take long to pull up the file she’d made with the names and addresses of every casino in town. Between forkfuls of steaming omelet, she consulted her list, skipping the casinos she’d already been to, and selected the one she planned to visit next. She moved it to the “already visited” column, saved the file, switched off the computer, and changed into a tank top with matching shorts. Ten minutes later, she waved a thank you to the utility truck driver who allowed her to ease onto the busy street, and headed toward the strip.

One hour later and seven hundred dollars richer, she left the casino and strolled through the maze of exclusive shops near the lobby. An emerald green swimsuit on display in one of the windows caught her eye, and she went inside to look at it. Two hundred dollars was pricey, but the moment she tried the suit on, she knew she had to have it. Even though it was a one-piece, the sexy cut of the bodice emphasized and lifted her breasts, and the French cut legs gave extra length to her shapely gams.

Thoroughly pleased with her purchase, she continued window shopping, only pausing when the scent of fresh flowers lured her into the hotel’s floral shop. Beautiful, fragrant flowers greeted her at every turn, and she stopped to caress the velvety petals of a purple iris arrangement. It was beautiful, but she realized that it was also incomplete. All it needed was a couple of those yellow…

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the sales clerk remarked from behind the register.

Startled, Emily dropped her hand. She hadn’t noticed the woman when she walked in. “Yes, it is.” She glanced around the shop, noting for the first time that she was the only customer. Putting her swimsuit bag on the counter, she studied the woman for a moment. “Would you mind if I made a suggestion?”

The clerk’s eyes widened. “What kind of suggestion?”

“One that would make that arrangement even more beautiful than it already is,” Emily said, trying to infuse a note of confidence in her tone. Her fingers itched to touch the arrangement. “Let me show you what I’m talking about. If you don’t like it, I’ll change it back.”

“I don’t know,” the girl countered hesitantly, rubbing the buttons on the front of her blouse. “Nobody’s supposed to touch the arrangements. Let me get the manager.”

A few moments later, she returned with another woman, who appeared to be several years older. “I’m the manager,” the older woman announced. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Emily could feel the heat climbing up her neck. Good Lord, she’d made a fool of herself without even trying! “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to offend your clerk. It’s just that the iris arrangement on the counter called out to me the minute I saw it. It’s beautiful, but it needs another color to make it complete.”

The woman raised one eyebrow, but said nothing.

Embarrassed by her outburst, Emily grabbed her bag. “Look, I didn’t mean to cause a problem. I’ll just go.” She spun around and started for the exit.

To her amazement, the manager grabbed the arrangement and walked toward a room to the right of the register. “Come with me,” she called out as she disappeared through the doorway.

Keeping her swimsuit bag clutched firmly under her arm, Emily entered a small workroom littered with floral tape, foam, vases, and cut greenery. She watched as the manager placed the arrangement in the center of a worktable and stepped away.

“Sarah, please bring the miniature yellow roses.” Turning to Emily, the woman motioned toward the arrangement. “Show me what you meant.”

Encouraged by the woman’s attitude, Emily reached for the slender stems, wrapped them with wire supports, then strategically placed eight roses in the arrangement. Stepping back to view the result, she plucked out two, then shifted the others until she was satisfied with the overall effect. “What do you think?”

Time seemed to stand still while the manager studied the arrangement. Finally, she nodded, and Emily let out the breath she’d been holding. “You’re right,” the woman agreed. “The splashes of yellow are a perfect foil for the irises. Normally I’d never let a customer touch an arrangement, but, like you, I felt this piece was missing something." She eyed Emily for a moment. “Are you looking for a job?”

Emily’s pulse quickened. “Maybe. What are you offering?”

“My regular designer quit two days ago. I’m looking for someone to design arrangements for the shop and for weddings. Interested?”

“What are the hours?”

“Nine to five, including some holidays,” the woman replied. “Why don’t you come into my office and we’ll talk about your qualifications? Oh, and before I forget my manners, my name’s Clarise Forbes.”

When Emily left the manager’s office an hour and a half later, she’d secured the position of floral designer, subject to a background check and mandatory drug testing. If all went well, she could start work in about a week and a half.

She unlocked her car and tossed the swimsuit bag onto the passenger seat. For once, things seemed to be going her way. Not only had she secured a job doing something she loved; if her talent held out, she’d be able to further the nest egg that would someday provide the down payment for a floral shop of her own. And, provided Glen didn’t turn out to be a jerk, she could foresee the possibility of developing a romantic relationship. If nothing else, he could still be a candidate for a boy toy, or in his case, man toy, since he was built like a stud, with a butt that wouldn’t quit, and gorgeous! Life was definitely getting interesting!

Chapter Eight

At ten minutes to three, Glen dialed his cell phone. “What’s going on?”

“Not much,” Pete replied. “Looks like our bird’s headed home.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Since Emily was headed home, maybe he wouldn’t have to traipse all over Vegas after her once Pete left. He disliked shadowing people; that’s why he’d hired Pete. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”

“Roger.”

Pete’s truck was already parked at the curb when Glen arrived. Acting as normal as possible, he pulled into his allotted space, then casually walked over. “Anything interesting happen?” he asked as he leaned against the driver’s door and braced one arm over the window.

Pete shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary. She went to the Emerald Lagoon, played the quarter machines until she hit a small jackpot, then went shopping. The only unexpected thing she did was enter the hotel’s florist shop and come out with another woman. They went to the Human Resources Department. Guess she’s applying for a job. She stayed in there a little over an hour, then came home.”

“Good. See you tomorrow.”

“Right.”

Glen watched Pete’s truck disappear around the corner, then wandered over to the pool. The sound of laughter and the smell of chlorinated water greeted him as he paused to watch a vigorous game of water polo. Three bikini-clad women sitting at a table at the other end of the pool waved and invited him to join their group, but he declined when he spotted an open table across from Emily’s apartment. Tilting the overhead umbrella, he sat in the metal chair and pretended to read his newspaper, sneaking surreptitious glances toward Emily’s apartment every few minutes. Although he watched her open the living room curtains, she didn’t venture out.

The smell of expensive perfume tickled his nose as a shadow fell across his table. “Hello, Glen. Long time, no see,” Kate announced as she sank gracefully into a chair.

He allowed his eyes to drink their fill of the woman. Even dressed in a white tee shirt and red spandex shorts, Kate’s natural grace and beauty still commanded attention. God, she was beautiful—the perfect blend of sumptuous vixen and virginal innocence, which, considering her line of work, made her appearance even more remarkable. Perfectly tanned skin complemented the flaxen hair that outshone the sapphire and diamond clip clinging to it. She wore her hair in a thick braid, and it flowed down one shoulder to rest in the valley between her breasts. His thoughts took on a life of their own, and he quickly reminded himself that this goddess was not for him. Not now, not ever.

“Hello, Kate. I wondered when you’d come see me.”

“I was surprised to see you’d moved into the complex.”

“Not as surprised as I was to find you here. I would’ve thought you’d be living in one of those super-exclusive condo units across town.”

She exhaled slowly and then ran a perfectly manicured fingernail around the gilded edge of her wine glass. “I never bring my clients here.”

“That’s nice. I’ll sleep better knowing the vice squad won’t be hanging around all the time, waiting to bust you and one of your so-called clients.” He studied her for a few moments, then continued, “You know, if Stu comes to visit you again, the landlady’s bound to put two and two together. For God’s sake, Kate, it isn’t as if the man’s picture hasn’t been plastered across the front page of the newspaper the last couple of months.”

She shook her head. “I know. I was shocked when he showed up last night. That’s the first time he’s been here. And the last, I hope,” she added in a softer voice.

Glen smoothed out the folds in his newspaper. “It’s your business, Kate, but you already know Stu’s bad news. And Mike’s even deadlier. Why do you think they’re not allowed anywhere near the casinos? Even though he dresses in Armani suits, Mike’s still a vicious killer, with both mob and drug cartel connections. Stu’s his number one henchman. I don’t care what the newspaper said, I still think Mike had those agents investigating him knocked off. Why do you think they can’t find the bodies? If I were you, I’d steer clear of both Mike and Stu. In fact, I’d run as far in the opposite direction as I could.”

“I wish I could, Glen. You don’t know how much I wish I could.” She tipped her head back and sighed. “One of these days I’m going to have enough money to leave this damn place. And let me tell you, that day can’t come soon enough.”

He frowned, noting her wistful tone. “Maybe you ought to get out now, Kate,” he advised in a softer tone. “Money isn’t everything. If you get caught up in anything Mike’s involved in, you could wind up like those missing agents. And once you’re dead, all the money in the world isn’t going to do you a damn bit of good.”

She sipped the last of the wine from her glass. “Don’t worry about me, Glen. I can take care of myself. Thanks for keeping your mouth shut. If I can ever return the favor, I will.” She picked up her wine glass and flashed him one last smile as she strolled toward the group of women at the other end of the pool.

Glen watched her leave, noting the fluid grace with which she walked. Other women walked or strutted, but Kate glided. That was the only way to describe the smooth motion of her arms and legs. She reminded him of a swan, with her long, slender neck and graceful elegance.

He knew she’d have to talk to him sooner or later, especially since he witnessed her leaving with Stu Bogrand. Hopefully, she was smart enough not to get mixed up in any of Mike Dragonisi’s drug deals. He wondered how she’d gotten involved with Mike and surmised that it was probably through her line of business. Shaking his head, Glen genuinely hoped that Mike didn’t have some kind of hold over her. Kate was smart, but Mike was ruthless. Unfortunately for her, ruthless won over smart ninety-five percent of the time.

Emily tried to focus on the book in her lap, but each time she started the first sentence, her gaze strayed to the window. From her perch on the couch, she could see Glen and Kate sitting near the pool, deep in conversation. Evidently he’d been telling the truth this morning when he said he knew Kate, because it had been Kate who’d initiated the contact, and it was obvious from their body language that this wasn’t an introductory meeting.

She snapped the book shut, stood up, then sank back into the cushions. It wasn’t any of her business who he talked to. He probably knew dozens of women who were drawn to his good looks. Hell, he probably dated a different one every night. Just because he’d joined her for a morning swim didn’t mean that he was interested in her—especially when there were women like Kate around.