Power Play

Trey Riker had been quick to offer a loan. Seemed as if it was an authentic offer which, for just a second, had touched her. But then she thought of her most recent conversation with Rodney Ballure. I know you appreciate the limb I’m perched on because I offered you this job. The words themselves were not horrible, but the way he’d said them made her feel uneasy. His tone had been suggestive. As if there was some expectation of repayment.

She wasn’t going to get into another situation like that with one of Anthony’s friends. Although, Trey was considerably more handsome than Rodney. His light brown hair had a good cut that made the most of the thick texture. The lights in Lavender had picked up the natural gold highlights. Great bone structure, with a wide jaw and a very nice mouth. Dark lashes meant to make every girl in the room jealous.

When she’d first arrived in Vegas, she thought about how nice it might be to meet a guy. She would be twenty-nine in two weeks. Most of her friends were either married or in serious relationships. She’d dated, of course, and had one rather long relationship that had fizzled out in the end. But she’d been mostly busy getting a doctorate degree. It had taken a couple extra years because she’d worked a series of part-time jobs—waitressing, retail, telemarketing, you name it—to offset the expense of her degree. But now she had her first real job.

And as she’d unpacked her boxes at her new apartment, looking out at the low mountains that surrounded Vegas, she’d been excited about the possibilities. Romance. Marriage. A child. That last bit was all sweet little Didi’s fault. Nothing better than the pudgy arms of a baby around your neck.

It could be so good.

But now, six months later, she couldn’t think of any of those things.

She needed to stay sharp. Watchful.

Which was why Trey needed to take his offers down the street. In this town, there would be plenty of takers.

She stopped at the two-top in the far corner. The newly arrived couple was holding hands across the table. They were in their early thirties. Both wanted champagne with a side of chocolate-dipped strawberries. The woman was busy looking at her ring finger that had a sparkly diamond on it.

“Congratulations?” she ventured.

They both beamed. “We got married today,” said the man. “Didn’t tell a soul we were doing it. Got on a plane in Chicago, arrived at three and here we are.”

“That’s wonderful,” she said, meaning it. Just because circumstances had put her life on hold, it didn’t mean she couldn’t be happy for others.

On her way to enter the newlyweds’ order, the three men who’d been initially fairly polite but, after five beers each, were getting rather obnoxious, waved her over. She kept a smile on her face. Earlier, when the one had grabbed her butt, she’d quickly stepped away. Hadn’t made a scene. Things like that happened in bars. But there was a line and she thought these three might be just about to cross it.

She kept a safe distance. “Ready for your check?” she asked.

“Hell no, darling,” said the one who hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself. He smiled at her. “Come closer,” he said. He patted his leg.

Not on your life. “Got to scoot,” she said. “Bosses don’t like it if we keep the customers waiting.”

“I’m a customer, darling, and I could give you three suggestions on how you could make me real happy,” he said, his tone full of innuendo. The other goofballs at the table laughed, maybe a little uneasily.

She kept the polite, yet distant, smile on her face that she’d perfected when she’d started cocktailing. “Then, another round?” she asked.

He tapped the table, as if he couldn’t be bothered to speak. Great. She didn’t intend to talk to them any longer anyway. She’d let Hagney know that this trio had worn out their welcome. He’d deliver the bad news that there weren’t going to be any more drinks and they’d be gone by the time she got back with the strawberries.

She walked back to the bar and entered her orders. She ignored Trey Riker, who appeared to have ordered another drink. What the hell was he doing? He’d come, he’d checked and reported back to her brother. His work was done here.

She motioned for Hagney to lean close. Told him that his services were needed. “I’m going to run back and get the strawberries,” she said.

He nodded and cracked his knuckles. She winked at him.

The kitchen was behind the dining room. Bar staff were not supposed to cross the dining room, but rather, connect to the kitchen through the back hallway. It was rather inconvenient and required them to sidestep around customers on their way to the restroom, but she understood the rationale.

She was coming back, with two plates of delicious-looking chocolate-dipped strawberries, when it all went to hell. Table-tapper came out of the men’s room. He saw her and headed her way.

“Darling, I don’t like being told that my business isn’t wanted.”

“Happens to the best of us,” she said lightly. “Have a good evening,” she said, working to keep her tone even, polite. De-escalate. First rule of handling an unhappy customer.

Sometimes it didn’t work all that well with a drunk. And it looked as if this was one of those times. The man swaggered toward her. She tried to sidestep around him but he was faster on his feet than she anticipated. He grabbed her upper arm and swung her toward him. She lost her grip on the plates and heard them shatter over the roar in her ears.

He pushed her up against the wall, pushed himself against her and tried to kiss her. She screamed, knowing that it would be hard to be heard over the music in the bar and the noise in the kitchen. She flung her arms and tried to kick, but he had at least seventy-five pounds on her.

He gripped her chin hard. “Kiss me, damn you.”

No. No. No.

Chapter 2

Trey Riker watched Kellie enter her drink orders into the computer. Then she said something to the bartender before disappearing through a swinging door. He sipped his second Scotch and watched the bartender lift the pass-through section of the bar and head directly to the drunks’ table. Whatever he said, they didn’t seem inclined to argue. One of them handed the bartender a credit card. He returned to the bar area, rang it up, and by the time he got back to the table, the trio was standing.

Then they were walking to the door. Good.

He turned on his stool. Could see them hanging out by the woman with the menus. They were ignoring her, just chatting. And then he realized they were a man short. And he got a bad feeling.

“Hey,” he said to the bartender. “Where does that door lead?”

“To the kitchen,” he said.

“That’s it?”

“No. There are restrooms, too. Entrance off the lobby,” he said and went to pour a drink.

Something told him to hurry.

He ran through the lobby and pushed open the door. He saw the drunk had Kellie pinned up against the wall, while he did his level best to grasp her breast. Trey charged down the hall and grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and whirled him around. The man’s shoulder knocked against the wall. Trey hit him hard enough to jar loose some teeth. Saw that he was down, and turned to Kellie.

She had her back pressed up against the wall, her palms splayed flat against the gray paint, as if she was hanging on. Her face was white.

He wanted to reach for her, to hold her, to tell her that it would be okay, but he doubted that’s what she needed right then. “What can I do?” he asked gently.

“Get him out of here,” she said, her voice trembling.

“We’ll call the police,” he said.

“No,” she said sharply. Then visibly pulled it together. “I’m not hurt. I just want him out of here.”

He wanted to rearrange the man’s face. “Okay, then stay there,” he said gently. “I’ll be right back.”

Then he yanked the drunk up to his feet, who was now very quiet, as if he couldn’t figure out exactly how he’d gotten his bell rung. Trey propelled him back to the lobby, back to his friends who looked as if they might want to make a break for it.

“Get your friend out of here,” he said. He got in the man’s face. “And don’t come back. And don’t come anywhere near that woman ever again. You’re lucky she doesn’t want to press charges. But your luck is going to run out fast if you think that I’m not serious about this.”

The man squared his shoulders. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said to his two buddies. Neither of them wasted any time and the trio left. Trey watched them get to the door before quickly turning and running back to Kellie.

She was sweeping the floor.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Somebody else can get that.”

“It’s my mess.”

“It is not your fault when somebody else is a damn idiot,” he said. “Tell your boss that you’re done for the night, that you’re going home.”

“I can’t do that,” she said, still sweeping. “I’ll be fired and I’m already in the hole for the evening. Doubly so, now. I’ll probably have to pay for these strawberries. Why couldn’t they have just ordered cheese sticks?” she said, a trace of humor in her tone.

He was glad she was bouncing back. Wasn’t so sure about himself.

She looked up, made eye contact with him. “Thank you,” she said. “I was losing the fight.” She paused. “Please don’t tell my brother about this. He’s...protective. He was the man of the house after our dad died. Took and continues to take his role seriously.”

“Your brother is a good man,” Trey said. He would never want to disappoint Anthony.

“Yes,” she said. She stood there, holding her dustpan and broom.

“You look a little like Cinderella,” he said.

She tilted her chin down. “What do you know about Cinderella? I don’t take you for the type to have watched the movie.”

“I have a younger sister,” he said.

“I see. Favorite part of the movie?” she challenged.

He feigned a grimace. “When the glass slipper finally slides onto Cinderella’s foot. I like it when the parts go together.” He held up a hand and his face got hot. “Sorry, that sounds really sexual. Didn’t mean it that way. Especially after—” he waved a hand “—all this. See, I was a mechanic in the air force. Things that fit nice and tight...” He stopped. “I’m going to shut up now.”

Now she had a full smile. That was well worth him fumbling over his words.

“Did you fix planes?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“You dropped out of college to enlist, right? I remember hearing the story.”

“Yeah. I ultimately finished my degree online like a lot of enlisted folks do. And then I got a call from my good friend Royce Morgan to join him, Rico Metez and Seth Pike in Wingman Security. We provide personal and property security services.”

“So this—” she looked at the pile on the floor “—was just your cup of tea.”

You would think so. Shouldn’t have been any big deal—neutralize the creep who was causing trouble and move on. But his heart, which seemed to still be skipping a beat here and there, didn’t seem to think so. “Just glad I had my cape with me.”

“A superhero, right?” she said, immediately getting it.

“Just had to prove that I watched guy stuff, too.”

The door at the end of the hall opened and out came a guy wearing a white apron. He was carrying two plates of chocolate-covered strawberries. Kellie held out her broom and dustpan. “Thanks, Miguel. I’ll trade you,” she said.

“Nobody else even knows this is the second set,” he said, making the switch. Miguel’s hands were shaking and Trey wasn’t confident that the second set of strawberries was going to fare any better than the first.

“You’re the best,” Kellie said.

The man mumbled something in response. He didn’t seem to be able to make eye contact with either of them.

Kellie shook her head as she watched Miguel go back through the kitchen door. “That was odd. He’s normally cracking a joke about everything.”

He wasn’t sure what to say about that. She was still very pale and she was making no effort to go anywhere with the strawberries.

“I think I just need a minute,” she said. “To clear my head.”

“Want to talk about something else?”

“Sure,” she said, sounding relieved.

“I put up a fence today. At my house. Next, I got to dig me some big holes for a few new trees.” Now that he finally had the fence up, there was no reason to procrastinate on the landscaping.

“What kind of trees?” she asked.

“Somebody suggested desert willows.”

“That’s a good choice,” she said. “They’re so disease-resistant and they respond really well to the soil in and around the Vegas area. Hummingbirds love them and they flower, too.”

“You sound like you really know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“It’s what I do,” she said.

“I thought you were a geologist,” he said.

“I am. What do you know about mining?” she asked.

He was happy that she seemed more relaxed. “Not much. Know that it’s big business in Nevada. Gaming is probably first but mining has to be in the top five.”

“You’re right. It employs more than eleven thousand people in this state and creates a lot of jobs in the secondary market, as well.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” he said. “Wingman Security has done work with several of the mining companies, everything from providing security at mine sites and corporate offices to personal security for mining executives. It’s good business. But what exactly is your role?”

“Part of the process of mining is that before a new site can start up or before an existing footprint can be enlarged, there has to be a plan in place for land reclamation and the mining company has to prove that they have the resources available. It’s to avoid lots of damage to the environment without there being a plan to mitigate it.”

“And that’s what you do?”

“Yes. I mean, I’m pretty new. I’ve only been on the job for about six months. But I’m involved in a couple smaller projects. One of the things I’ve done is learn about trees and other plants that can be used in the reclamation process.”

“Do you like it?”

She paused. “I like what I’m doing very much. It’s exciting to know that we can extract these very important minerals from the earth, minerals that we need for technology and medicine, but that we don’t have to do it at the expense of the environment.”

There was something odd in her tone. I like what I’m doing very much. But she didn’t seem happy about it. There was just the slightest hint of sadness in her tone—as if she was working hard to keep her voice neutral but a little real emotion had seeped out.

Interesting.

She drew in a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready to go back. The folks who ordered these strawberries can only stare into each other’s eyes for so long.”

“Maybe forty or fifty years, right?” he said, feeling very off center.

“If they’re lucky.” She started to walk away from him.

And he thought about going back to the bar, finishing the drink he didn’t want. But he told himself that that was crazy. He had delivered the message that he’d come for. Had assured Anthony that she’d be calling soon. Had been in the right place at the right time to offer some assistance. But now she was fine and the drunk was gone.

His five o’clock assignment was looming.

But more important was the pressing realization that he was attracted to Kellie McGarry. Initially because she was Victoria’s Secret–model gorgeous, and then because she was funny and smart and resilient. All qualities he admired.

If they dated it would no doubt be lots of fun.

But when it ended it, which it likely would, since most relationships ended, Anthony would be sharpening his scalpel in anticipation of cutting Trey into small pieces.

“Hey,” he said.

She stopped, turned.

He took five big steps, pulled a business card from his pocket and passed it to her. “Take this,” he said.

She hesitated, then reached out her hand.

The tips of their index fingers touched. His was just a little crooked at the last joint—that’s what you got when you broke it twice. And callused. Her skin was smooth and her nails were short, perfectly rounded and painted a dark purple.

Everything about her was so damn sexy.

“I’m not going to call,” she said. Her pretty eyes were wide-open, her gaze intense.

That was probably for the best. “Just in case,” he said.

* * *

Kellie finished her shift and at twenty minutes after two, kept a smile on her face as she sat down at the bar, in front of the cosmo that Hagney had poured for her. It was a ritual that the staff enjoy a nightcap together before heading home. She was tired, and for a brief second she debated ducking out. But then admitted to herself that she wasn’t in any big hurry to get home. Because then she was going to have to open her backpack and do something.

What that something was, she had no idea.

But she couldn’t sit on this much longer.

She flexed her tired feet, grateful that she’d gotten out of her heels and into the hiking boots she’d had in her locker. Which was where, every other night, her backpack stayed while she was working. But tonight, she’d broken bar policy and stuffed it under the counter of the bar, behind lots and lots of bottles. She’d grabbed it at the end of the shift when everybody else was busy shutting down the bar or counting tips.

The straps were now looped over one knee.

Hagney took the stool next to her. “Miguel told me about the guy in the hallway.”

She’d been afraid of that. “No big deal,” she said.

“I should have decked him when I had the chance,” he said. “Damn it, I’m sorry,” he added.

“My brother’s friend was helpful,” she said.

“Seems like a decent guy,” Hagney offered. “Unattached?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“He wasn’t wearing a ring,” Hagney said. “No tan line, either.”

“Smarter than the average bear.” Too many times both men and women came in without rings for a night of bar crawling, not realizing the tan line was a dead giveaway.

“He was getting some interested looks from other women in the bar but he was pretty much laser focused on you,” Hagney said.

She felt the heat in her cheeks. “He was passing on a message from my brother. No big deal.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. She could hear the chant in her head. Trey Riker had a very sexy, rough-around-the-edges look in his tight T-shirt, faded blue jeans and scuffed work boots. His short, just-shy-of-scruffy beard completed the bad-boy look.

He definitely looked very different from the freshman goof who’d been lying on the wrong end of the bed, with his feet on his pillow, reading a car racing magazine. That had been a boy. Now, he was definitely a man.

Handsome for sure. But what else did she know about him?

He was smart. He hadn’t dropped out of college to join the air force because he was struggling. No. She could remember overhearing her mom talk with her friend about Anthony and his two roommates. I think they put the three smartest boys at UCLA in the same room.

Of course, after five minutes with Rodney, you knew how smart he was because he told you. It was an office joke that wasn’t really funny for those who ran into his ego several times a day. She’d not had much interaction with him, but on the few occasions they’d talked, she’d walked away with a bad taste in her mouth.

Trey Riker hadn’t seemed as affected by his own self-importance but that didn’t mean she could trust him any more than she trusted Rodney right now. He’d surprised her when he’d given her his business card. She should have simply accepted it, but for some reason had felt the need to be honest.

He hadn’t tried to convince her that not calling was a mistake, which made her think he’d simply done it as a perfunctory gesture. Maybe so he could tell Anthony that he’d not only checked, but that he’d given his little sister a lifeline, too?

But this was no game show. She wasn’t calling a friend or asking the audience for help. She was on her own.

She sipped her drink, her backpack feeling heavy on her leg. She knew she was imagining that. There were just her heels and papers inside. Papers that might lead her to the truth.

She tossed back the rest of her drink, feeling a slight burn down the back of her throat. “I’ve got to get going,” she said.

“I’ll walk you out,” Hagney said.

“Finish your drink,” she said. “I’ll be fine.” All staff parked on the first level of the parking deck across the street. It was one of the perks of working at Lavender. It was brightly lit twenty-four hours a day and she always felt safe getting to her car.

She waved goodbye to the rest of the team and walked down the interior stairs. She stood in front of the doors, wishing she’d worn a coat to work. It had been really warm when she’d left but was probably in the upper fifties now. She was going to get chilled.

She opened the door, walked to the corner of the street and pressed the walk button. She had her backpack strapped on, leaving her arms free. She wrapped them around her middle.

“Where’s your coat?”

She jumped a damn foot. Might have screamed if she hadn’t recognized the voice.

She turned and saw Trey. He was taking off his lightweight jacket. He handed it to her. “Here.”

She shook her head. “My car is right over there. I thought you went home. What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “Please,” he said, continuing to hold out the jacket.

She realized she wasn’t going to get an explanation until she took the coat. She put it on, over her backpack. She probably looked ridiculous but she didn’t intend to have it on that long.

“Thank you,” he said. “I hung around, just in case. I thought that idiot might have had one too many beers in his system to make a good decision and stay away.”

“You’ve been standing guard for over three hours.” She was amazed.

“It’s a pleasant night,” he said. “Good for people watching.”

She thought he probably couldn’t care less about people watching. She took a step backward and heard the angry blare of a horn.

Chapter 3

“Be careful,” he said quickly, pointing to the traffic behind her.

Be careful. He was right. She needed to be very, very careful. “It’s late,” she said.

“I don’t need that much sleep,” he said. “And—” he looked at his watch “—I don’t have to be at work for another two and a half hours. Actually, now I think I’ll just stay up. I probably should get something to eat.” He put his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “Ever since you said cheese sticks earlier, I’ve been a little obsessed.”

Maybe it was the drink she’d gulped down on an empty stomach, but his offer sounded so good. Fun. And she desperately wanted not to overthink it. To write it off as simply a cool thing to have a handsome guy ask her out.

But Anthony, Rodney and this man had been roommates. Best friends, to hear Anthony tell it. Would do anything for one another. Anthony had mentioned several times since she’d started working at the mine that he wanted to come see her, to spend some time with Rodney. Trey would naturally be part of that socializing.

Was it possible that he was part of something much worse? She’d seen no evidence of that, but then again, she was less than a third of the way through the documents. Had he stuck around for hours and was now inviting her for a late dinner because he had some idea of what was in her backpack?

How was that possible?

She wanted nothing more than to run to her car, to seek the safety of her little apartment, but since lately she’d been in the business of turning over rocks—not as a geoscientist but as an amateur detective—maybe the smart thing to do was better understand Trey’s interest. “A bite to eat might be okay,” she said. She did not intend to get into a car with him. “There’s a little bar around the corner. They’re open until four. Really good burgers and sweet potato fries. I suspect there might be a cheese stick or two somewhere in the kitchen.”