11. Eleven

11

ELEVEN

H alley was fun to be around. So were the other dancers. I’d never given it much thought really. Exotic dancers were simply part of the deal in Las Vegas. I wasn’t proud to admit I often walked past them—and the showgirls who posed for photos on the sidewalks outside the casinos—and pretended they didn’t exist.

That had been wrong—I realized it now—and I figured it was my duty to make up for being such a jerk.

“Okay, we need to be more proactive here,” I said to Halley. We’d managed to find a bench down the strip even though there were very few benches—the casino operators didn’t want anybody getting comfortable outside because that meant they weren’t gambling inside—and I had my notebook open. “Drawing attention to what you’re facing is good, but you need to hit them where it counts.”

“In the nuts?” Halley asked, her eyes sparkling. “Don’t you think we’ll get arrested for that?”

I rolled my eyes. “I was talking about their wallets.”

“Oh.” Halley nodded. “Yeah, that probably hurts more than a testicle shot. I’m convinced most of them don’t really have testicles.”

“Or they’re so small that you would have to be a sharpshooter to find them,” I agreed.

Halley had the sort of laugh that brightened the day, and she used it now. “What do you have in mind?” she asked as she turned back to her iced tea.

“Well, have you gotten any feedback regarding my idea to freeze out the casino whales?”

“Oh, so much feedback.” Halley giggled again. “The casino hosts are mad. Jackie over at the Stone Casino actually threatened me with hiding carbohydrates in my morning protein powder in an effort to make me too hefty to strip.”

I frowned. “I don’t think I know her.” I tapped my bottom lip. “I can ask Zach, though.” Once the words were out, I rethought them. “Although … he has no idea what I’m doing.”

Halley arched an eyebrow. I’d admitted I was married to Zach on our second meeting because I didn’t want to lie to her. I had not, however, admitted the truth of the marriage. I couldn’t. We’d agreed to tell Tallulah and Rex … and that was it. As much as I trusted Halley—and I did—that was part of the story I would be keeping to myself.

“Do you think he would help?” Halley looked intrigued at the option.

“I don’t know.” Suddenly, I felt like a bit of an idiot. “I mean … he doesn’t actually run the casino. His dad does.”

“His dad has a reputation as a real ballbuster.”

I tried to rack my memory of every interaction I’d ever had with Ryder Stone. In truth, they were few and far between. Occasionally, when I was in my early teens, Rex would take me with him when he was hanging out with Zach. I’d met Ryder on those occasions. Never once could I remember the man saying anything kind.

“Do you want to know the truth?” I was rueful. “I’ve known Ryder Stone for more than fifteen years, and I think I have five total memories of the guy, and one of those includes telling him that Zach and I eloped without informing anybody it was going to happen.”

Mirth flitted across Halley’s features. “I thought you and Zach were close before getting married.”

“We were,” I lied, my stomach constricting. I hated lying. I was bad at it. “Zach spent way more time with our family than his own when we were kids, though. My parents never came right out and said it in front of us, but I heard them talking a few times. They didn’t trust the Stones.”

“Because they’re bad people?”

“Because they were uninvolved in the day-to-day raising of their children,” I replied, remembering my mother’s exact wording. “Zach had nannies when he was little, and there was a house manager who kept tabs on him when he was a teenager.”

“Do you think he wanted to be with your family because he didn’t feel at home in his own family?”

I shrugged. I had to think about it for a moment. “I think maybe that’s exactly why he was always at our house. He and my brother were tight, but I remember him heading out to the garage to learn things about fixing cars with my dad. He always jumped at the chance to help Mom put away groceries too.”

“He probably knew it would result in an invitation to dinner.”

“Probably.” When I thought too hard about Zach’s upbringing, it made me feel sad. “I had the worst crush on him when I was a kid,” I admitted.

Halley’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, yeah?”

“He didn’t know I was alive, though. He and my brother were two years older than me, so when they were sixteen and whooping it up with girls, I was fourteen with braces. I preferred spending all my time reading in a corner. I was such a dweeb.”

“You’re only a dweeb because you used the word dweeb,” she countered. “Besides, it seems to have worked out for you. I mean … you guys are madly in love now. So in love you eloped.”

I nodded, even though it wasn’t remotely true. “Yeah. We’re still kind of finding our way around, though. We didn’t live together before we got married—which, in hindsight, might’ve been a mistake—and he is gross with his toenails.”

Halley snorted. “They all are.”

“He says I’m a pig, too. I’ve taken to leaving dishes around just because I know it annoys him.”

She laughed. “That sounds perfectly healthy.”

“Yes, well … we’re a work in progress.”

“But you don’t think he’ll help?”

“Probably not.” I shook my head. “He’s too afraid of his dad.” I probably shouldn’t have said that part out loud. Once it was out, though, it was out. “Don’t ever repeat that,” I pleaded in a low voice. “He won’t like it.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” She jerked up her chin. “He’s heading this way, though, so you should probably get it together.”

Panicked, I swiveled to look over my shoulder. Sure enough, Zach was walking—no, stomping was a better word—in my direction. “Uh-oh.”

Halley arched an eyebrow. “Is this about to turn ugly?”

Her version of ugly and mine were likely vastly different. “Loud,” I countered. “It’s about to turn loud.” Despite my worry, I pasted a bright smile on my face. If I could stop Zach from losing his cool in public, it would be the best thing for all of us. “There’s my Snookums,” I drawled.

Zach’s eyes promised murder as he closed in on us. “And there’s my Shortypants,” he replied in an icy tone.

I hated that nickname. It was only marginally better than when he called me Squirt, which wasn’t saying anything. Still, a public fight wasn’t what I was going for. “Did you miss me so much that you tracked me down?”

He looked caught off guard by the question. “Obviously,” he replied after several seconds of contemplation. “I can’t make it without my Squirt for more than a few hours. You know that.”

Next to me, Halley was calm. I could feel her drinking it all in. Was she suspicious or amused? That was the part I couldn’t ascertain. “You know, in my circle, if you call someone Squirt it has an entirely different meaning.”

Zach finally looked at her and really registered who she was. His eyes immediately went to her cleavage, which was still impressive despite the fact that I’d spent more time with her. I really couldn’t blame him and yet, weirdly, I wanted to claw his eyes out.

It was rude. That’s why I wanted to do it. Right? I wasn’t entirely certain, and that was annoying. It couldn’t be for any other reason, though. I simply wouldn’t allow it.

Zach smiled, but it was an odd gesture. He almost looked as if he was caught between amusement and horror. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He extended a hand toward me. “You should come back with me.”

I eyed his hand, then shook my head. “I’m not done yet.” I went back to looking at my notebook. “I’ll be back at the casino later.”

“Or you could come with me now.” There was something pointed about his tone. “I’ll buy you a late lunch.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” I shook my head. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Olivia.” That was all he said. My name. It was obvious he was agitated, but I couldn’t figure out why.

“Zachary.” I matched his tone and shot him a challenging look. “What’s your deal?”

“People know you’re down here.” He said it as if it should mean something to me.

“Um … okay.” I turned my attention back to Halley. “So Operation Beached Whale is in full swing,” I said. “We need to come up with another operation that is going to hurt the businesses in the area. That’s what’s going to get them to capitulate.”

Zach remained in front of me. “What is Operation Beached Whale?” he demanded.

I blinked. “Don’t worry about it.”

Frustration was obviously clawing at him because he made a growling noise. “Are you the reason the whales can’t get strippers?”

“Exotic dancers,” I automatically corrected. “You take away their agency when you call them strippers. It’s derogatory. They’re performers. When you talk about them that way, it sounds as if you think you’re above them.”

“Actually, I have a great deal of respect for the exotic dancers in the city.” He flashed a pointed smile toward Halley. “I have a business to run, though.” He glared at me. “As my wife, I would think you would understand that.”

He had to be joking. “Listen?—”

“No, you listen.” Zach’s eyes were on fire as he regarded me. “The people at the casino know you’re down here. They’re gossiping about it.”

“So what?”

“So … you’re actively working against the casino.” He waited for me to grasp whatever he was saying. “My father,” he added.

“How?” That was the part I couldn’t wrap my head around. “I’m just trying to help. They’ve been marginalized, and they’re responsible for a big chunk of the happiness people associate with Vegas. You can’t take away their right to be paid fairly.”

“I’m not paying them!” Zach practically exploded. “They have to work out their payment issues with their individual venues. I’m not part of it.”

“You could be,” I persisted. “If you would put your name behind their effort?—”

“Stop talking, Olivia!” If looks could kill, I would be dead. He seemed to realize he’d exploded loud enough that people were beginning to look at us, and he collected himself. “You need to come with me.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” I reminded him.

“Maybe not, but I have obligations. As my wife, you have obligations as well.”

I narrowed my eyes to dangerous slits. “I need you to spell out what you’re saying.”

“I will.” Zach extended his hand again. “At home. Just … come with me, and I’ll explain.”

I darted a look toward Halley, who had twitching lips and sparkling eyes.

“I think you should go with him,” she said.

“But we still have things to discuss,” I protested.

“You know where to find me.” Halley’s gaze was thoughtful as it landed on Zach. “If there’s going to be static about this, then blame it on me. Say I bamboozled her or something, and she didn’t know better. She’s naive enough that they’ll buy it.”

Zach cocked his head. “Why would you offer that?” he asked finally.

“Because she really does want to help. She’s also shiny enough that she hasn’t been ruined by this city yet. Probably because she wasn’t raised in the bowels of it like we were.” Halley stood. “You should protect that shininess, not dull it.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Zach shot back.

“I don’t actually know what you’re trying to do,” Halley replied. “You’re not easy to figure out.” Her gaze moved to me. “Go with him. If he doesn’t want you here, I’m guessing he has a reason.”

“I do,” Zach confirmed. “A really big Ryder Stone-shaped reason.”

“But I’m not done helping,” I argued.

“Go.” Halley smiled. “You know how to find us. He’s not going to leave you alone today, though.”

Because she was right, I made a grumbling noise under my breath and stood. “You make me want to hurt you, and not in a good way,” I complained to Zach as I slapped his hand away and fell into step with him.

He darted a sidelong look toward me. “We need to talk,” he said finally.

“I can’t wait.”

“Yeah, you won’t be saying that when we’re done.”

I had no doubt he was right.

BECAUSE I WANTED TO IRRITATE MY HUSBAND— and how I was starting to loathe that word—I stopped at one of the dine-and-dash food locations for a sandwich. I ordered it hot—even though I was fine with a cold Italian sub—and then hemmed and hawed over the fry selection before ordering the garlic salt option. Even though they were fast—Zach’s glowering countenance as he watched them work meant that we were pushed to the front of the line—it was a good twenty minutes before we crossed the penthouse threshold.

I threw my notebook and purse on the floor in front of the couch—he hated it when I did that—and kicked off one shoe in front of the door before aiming the other at the hallway that led to my room. Then, slowly, I carried my food to the couch and sat down. All the while, I shot him a challenging look. I was daring him to mess with me.

The second he loosened his tie and sat across from me, I recognized he was accepting the dare.

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?” he asked in a low voice.

I didn’t particularly like his tone. “Um … I’m trying to help people who are being taken advantage of. They deserve a livable wage. Do you know they don’t get paid sick leave? Poor Halley has never had a paid vacation.”

Zach blinked. Then he blinked again. “How is that your concern? You’re not a stripper.”

“Exotic dancer.”

“Don’t push me.” He extended a finger. “You cannot be involved in this.”

“And just why not?”

“Because you’re a Stone now. How do you think my father is going to take it when he hears you’re partnering with a bunch of strippers to make the whales unhappy?”

“Exotic dancers.”

He didn’t say anything. He just stared, a muscle working in his jaw. Jeez. He was a complete and total baby when he wanted to be.

“Maybe, if your father feels his bottom line is being adversely effected, he’ll step in and pressure the club owners to pay their dancers fairly,” I suggested. “They provide a service. They’re not slaves.”

“Nobody said they were slaves. They willingly went into the stripping business, however. That means they can take or leave the pay that’s being thrown at them.”

“Well, they’re leaving it and trying to better their circumstances. Also, the number of people who sit and dream about growing up to be a stripper when they’re a kid can’t be high. They are doing what they have to do to take care of themselves. Don’t look down on them.”

“Who said I was looking down on them?”

“Oh, it’s obvious.” I glared at him. “They deserve respect. They’re people.”

“Why are you so involved in this?” Zach looked as if he was at the end of his rope. “Why do you care?”

“Because I care about people. I don’t like it when people are mistreated.”

“Is this about you losing your job? I said I would get you a new job!”

That just tore it. I hopped to my feet and moved to stand directly in front of him. “I don’t need you to ride in on your white horse. I was penalized for doing the right thing. The thing is, I’m always going to do the right thing if I have the option.”

“And that’s what you’re doing now? The right thing?”

I nodded. “Yes. Treating the dancers as if they’re less than human because they take their clothes off for a living is misogynistic and disgusting. They don’t deserve it.”

“It’s not you! You’re not a stripper!”

I was so angry at his refusal to see anything outside of his privilege—he was incapable of seeing the plight of these women because he’d grown up in a mansion with a butler serving his every whim—that I made a rash choice. As I glared at him, I reached for the back of my shirt.

“What are you doing?” Zach demanded as I pulled it over my head and tossed it as his face. He lost two shades of color as I did the same with my pants. “Are you having some sort of mental health crisis?”

I kept going. I’d committed to this plan of attack and I wasn’t going to stop now.

Zach stood there, open mouthed, as I removed my bra and panties. He didn’t duck when they went flying at his head.

“Now I’m a stripper,” I said to him before reaching for my food bag. I didn’t run to my room. I walked in that direction, slowly, my rear end twitching indignantly. I could feel his gaze on me as I walked across the threshold. “I’m going to do what I want.”

“You’re my wife,” Zach said. His voice was low and raspy. “As a Stone, you’re expected to adhere to a certain code of conduct.”

“I didn’t agree to that.”

“You did when you said ‘I do,’” he insisted.

“No, I did not.” I vehemently shook my head and tried not to laugh at how red his cheeks were, or the way he absolutely refused to look lower than my shoulders. It almost appeared as if he was going to have a stroke from the effort. “You’re not the boss of me. I know I’ve said that a few times, but I mean it.

“You might be my husband, but you’re not my dictator,” I continued. “If your father has a problem with me helping the dancers, set up a meeting, and I’ll tell him exactly what I just told you.”

“Livvie.” Zach sounded as if he was going through some torturous ordeal. “Don’t make things difficult. Please.”

“I get that you have issues with your father.” I meant it. “I can’t live my life for you, though, because in a year, I have to be able to take care of myself. More importantly I have to be able to look at myself in the mirror.”

“Just find something else to do with your time,” he begged.

“No.”

“You’re just being difficult to be difficult!”

“Funny. I was just about to say the same thing to you.” With that, I shut the door in his face, leaving him sputtering.

I practically came out of my skin when I looked down and reminded myself I was naked. “I can’t believe I did that,” I muttered.

“Me either,” Zach bellowed from the other side of the door, telling me he was still out there.

I smirked. Well, at least nobody was going to call me boring today. That was at least a step in the right direction. Now I just had to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.

That was easier said than done.