Page 11 of Billionaire In Vegas

Chapter Three

“Oh my God! I’m in heaven!” Emmaline said, practically falling from the taxi in awe of the building in front of us. Actually, it wasn’t simply a building. It was more of a monument to excess and wealth. Apparently, my employer was loaded. I knew he was rich because of the plane, but pastors from mega-churches had their own private jets nowadays, so a private plane wasn’t as impressive as it used to be.

I didn’t realize how rich Oliver actually was until I stood outside his hotel on the strip looking up at it. I stretched my head as far back as possible, but still couldn’t see the top of the building. It’s as if it extended into another dimension in the sky. It was the tower of Babel, I thought jokingly, as I unloaded our suitcases.

Emmaline was too busy yelling, “Oh my God!” and running around the fountains in awe to help out. I was impressed too. Fountains circled the entrance area, each one grander than the next. I felt as if we were on the set of a movie, a Cinderella remake in the modern world, but we were all going to get our Happily Ever After. But instead of a fairy tale castle, we were in front of a stunning hotel that seemed made for dignitaries and celebrities. I immediately felt out of my element, but before I could focus on my own insecurities, I was distracted by Emmaline who was chatting up the doorman and the valet, it seemed. Apparently, she had no trouble feeling as if she belonged here. She was shaking their hands and introducing herself with a big smile on her face. I bet she was the only guest that had ever expressed an interest in learning the employees’ names. They actually seemed a little nervous by all her attention and I could see one of them blushing. And then Emmaline let out one of her signature laughs that drew even more eyes in her direction. I looked at Misha and we smirked.

“You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl,” she said referring to Emmaline’s background which had been similar to my own. Emmaline and I’d been raised in a rural area in Southern Georgia. We’d decided to go off to college in New York together. It had been Emmaline’s idea. She’d always been the braver, more outgoing of the two of us.

Misha though was born and raised in Brooklyn and had taken us country bumpkins under her wing. She’d especially been there for Emmaline when she’d become pregnant during our senior year and had thought of quitting school. Misha had arranged for Emmaline to stay with her grandmother in Brooklyn when Emmaline’s family had pretty much disowned her for having a baby out of wedlock. It had been tough for Emmaline, but between Misha’s help and Emmaline’s boyfriend, Colin, things had worked out for the best.

Emmaline had finishedcollege only a semester behind the rest of us and for a while, we thought she would marry Colin. But they’d broken up shortly after senior year and Emmaline refused to talk about it. It was odd. They’d been a great couple and from what Emmaline told me, he was a responsible and loving father who always provided for their daughter and had moved to Florida to be closer to them. Emmaline prided herself on being a super mom and I figured she and Colin probably bumped heads a lot when it came to Theodora. I briefly wondered if Colin was taking care of Theodora while Emmaline took a much-deserved break from mom duty.

Speaking of which, she was definitely not being a mom now as she flirted shamelessly with a group of guys as they exited the hotel. They seemed to be foreign. They were all tall and blonde and regarding Emmaline with amusement and interest as they walked away with regret on their face.

“See you guys around,” Emmaline purred.

Misha laughed as we approached carrying all the baggage, which the doorman quickly took from us, gesturing to another employee to help.

I mumbled a thank you as I said to Emmaline, “Were you trying to flirt with an entire foreign delegation or sports team, whoever they were?”

Misha cut in, “We’re only here for the weekend; we have to take advantage of every opportunity.”

I shook my head. “You two are something else. And you’re married,” I said pointedly to Misha.

“But she isn’t. She’s a single mom who hasn’t gotten out of the house in at least a decade. She should be flirting with all the men. ALL.”

Misha turned around and headed through the large glass doors held open by the doorman.

Emmaline and I had to come to a sudden halt as we barreled into her solid, unmoving form.

“What—?” I began and then promptly shut my mouth. It was clear what had stopped Misha in her tracks. The gorgeous view in front of us deserved our awe. The inner part of the hotel was just as stunning as the entrance. The hotel was hollow nearly as far as the eye could see, with the rooms on the outer part of the building. A huge sunlight sat in the middle and I stared at it in awe, taking in the ultra-modern and chic decor that reminded me of show homes I saw on television.

I was definitely out of my element, but I was determined not to show it. I squared my shoulders and headed in the direction of the reception desk. A petite brunette greeted us with a warm smile.

“Ms. Cabot, I presume?”

I blinked twice, trying to figure out how she knew my name.

At the confused look on my face, she gave a laugh. “Mr. Oliver mentioned that you were coming.”

She busily began to type something into the computer and then looked up again at us with a smile when she was done.

“How was your trip? I heard Oliver’s plane is gorgeous.”

She called him Oliver. Apparently, she knew my new boss very well.

“Yeah, it was pretty amazing,” I said for lack of a better word.

“I heard it had a hot tub,” the receptionist said, and I laughed.

“It was amazing, but not THAT amazing.”

The receptionist chuckled, reached under the desk and slid over a key card.

“Oh,” she said, shaking her head at her error. “You’ll need three of these.”

She promptly entered something else in the computer, reached under the counter and laid two additional keys next to mine.