1.

Cheese is really just a loaf of milk.

Dice

C YDNEY

I changed the angle of the phone to get a better view of my friend’s face, but the sun was so bright that it was almost impossible.

“I can’t believe you’re in Las Vegas and just laying by the pool like some sort of sweaty sloth.”

“Why should I go anywhere else, Zoey? It’s my day off, and I’m going to enjoy it my way.”

“What you should do is pay attention to that hot guy sitting behind you,” Zoey said with a grin. She winked before she said, “Looks like Vegas has some beautiful scenery.”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw a man sitting at a table nearby. He was hunched over a sketch pad, a frown marring his handsome face as he used an old-fashioned yellow pencil to mark the paper. I was happy to see that he was wearing earbuds so he hopefully couldn’t hear Zoey talking about him.

“I might go out and see the sights later. Bella’s new man has one of his guys watching me from a distance, like I’m not going to notice a man in a suit at the pool, sitting across the way pretending he’s not watching me.”

“You are pretty oblivious sometimes.”

“I am not!”

“You’re in Sin City acting like you’re vacationing at the Vatican,” Zoey grumbled. “Live a little, Squid. You can do whatever you want in Vegas because for once in our lives you’re wild and free in a place that’s not filled by smelly guys you’ve known your entire life. No one’s gonna mention to your dad that you went rogue and screwed some hottie in the hotel lobby bathroom or rode a tourist like he was an amusement park attraction.”

I squealed with laughter before I asked, “Have you ever done anything like that, Zo?”

“Of course I haven’t. I’m an upstanding officer of the law who worships the rules and regulations of a polite society,” Zoey said with a straight face.

I howled with laughter, and Zoey broke into a grin. “Come on, Squid. Live a little. Don’t get me wrong - I’m impressed that you’re not sitting by the pool with your laptop.”

“I tried, but the glare is too bad for me to see my spreadsheets,” I admitted.

“Go play the slot machines. Sit down at a high roller table and win big. Jump in the pool and pretend you’re drowning so that tattooed hottie behind you can jump in and resuscitate you with his dick.”

There was a bark of laughter behind me, and I groaned when I realized that the guy’s earbuds weren’t muffling my friend’s off-colored remarks.

“As always, you’re an embarrassment, Zoey Duke.”

“Squid, I wouldn’t be an embarrassment if you’d get that stick out of your ass and have some fun.”

Without thinking, I blurted, “Maybe I like it up my ass!”

There was another guffaw, and I realized what I’d just said. Zoey and the man were laughing at me together, and I heard him say, “That’s good to know for when I have to resuscitate you later.”

“Ask him if money shoots out when you pull his lever.”

“Shut.Up.”

“Enjoy your time in Vegas, Squid. Now that the ice is broken, you should ask the pool guy if he’s willing to roll your dice.” Zoey laughed before she said, “Deal you a winner. Tap your stack for good luck. Spread your chips all over the table and then sweep them up with his tongue. Go in blind and come out happy. Maybe all he needs is a queen to complete his hand.”

I groaned at her analogies and flipped off the screen which caused her to laugh even harder. “I’m going to let you go now, Zoey. Thanks for the embarrassment. Your job here is done.”

“You’re welcome, bitch!” Zoey yelled before the call ended.

I could see the man’s reflection and knew that he was staring at me so I flipped over onto my stomach and studied him for a second before I asked, “What exactly are you doing, Mr. Nosy?”

“I’m working. What are you doing, Miss So-Loud-How-Could-I-Not-Overhear?”

“You’re sitting by the pool working? What’s wrong with you?”

“Some of us don’t have time to lounge around because we’ve gotta get shit done so we can get paid.”

“You’re staying in one of the fanciest hotels on the Strip, and you’re sitting by the pool surrounded by interesting people . . . working.”

“Didn’t I hear you tell your friend that you tried to do the same thing?”

“We’re talking about you, not me.”

“Do you think you’re interesting?”

“I’m probably the most interesting person you’ll meet this week.”

“It’s Saturday, and I’ve had a busy week, so you’ve got some competition.”

“I can do it,” I boasted.

“You don’t seem like the ambitious type.”

“Oh, I’m not,” I lied.

“A little ambition never killed anybody.”

“I disagree. All of the dead bodies at the top of Mount Everest were ambitious people, and look how they ended up.”

The man started laughing and agreed, “Okay, you have a point, but there’s something to be said for hard work.”

“I work hard, but I play hard too.”

“What do you do for a living?” he asked, probably wondering how such an unmotivated person could afford to stay in this hotel.

I took a few seconds to think about it before I answered, “I’m in sales.”

He looked down at my bikini-clad body, his gaze roaming from my face to my toes and then back again before he said, “I’m not interested in paying for what I can easily get for free.”

My jaw dropped before I gasped in outrage. “You think I’m a hooker?”

“I believe that the more high-class term is escort, but if you prefer . . .”

“I don’t prefer anything of the sort because I’m neither of those!”

“Then what are you doing lounging around at the pool by yourself looking like a snack?”

“A snack?” I started laughing before I said, “Wow. That’s the most juvenile pick-up line I’ve ever heard.”

“It wasn’t a pick-up line, it was an observation.”

“Whatever. And for your information, I’m laying by the pool to work on my tan because when I’m home, I never seem to have the time.”

“Where’s home?”

“Not here. Where’s your home?”

He motioned toward the hotel behind us, and I smirked. “Okay, high roller, whatever story you want to stick with works for me.”

I flipped over onto my back again and closed my eyes, trying very hard to convince myself that crawling up onto that tattooed man’s lap wasn’t a good way to spend my evening. It wasn’t long before a shadow fell over me.

“Is there a reason you’re blocking my sun?” I asked without opening my eyes.

Bella laughed and I tried not to grimace, a little sad that it was my friend and not the handsome man I’d been talking to a few minutes ago. She sat down on the lounge chair beside me and asked, “How did you know it was me?”

I opened one eye and frowned at her before I said, “I didn’t know it was you, I was just pissed that someone was in my way.”

“You do realize that there are a million things to do here besides lay by the pool, right?” Bella looked down at the T-shirt she was wearing and then back at my bikini and laughed. “I feel overdressed, Squid.”

“It’s hot as balls. You’ve got too many clothes on.”

“I know it’s hot. Why are you outside?”

“I have a plan.”

“Do tell,” Bella said sarcastically.

“I’m going to lay out here by the pool for a while and then go upstairs and crank down the AC before I get in the shower. By the time I get out, it will be blowing snowballs, and I’m going to lay down wet and naked like a starfish in the middle of the living room.” I realized that the man seated at the table behind us was still listening when he burst out laughing.

When Bella glanced over at him, he said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but that one just jumped out at me.”

“Can you think of something more descriptive?” I asked without turning around.

“I think you covered it.”

“Why are you here?” I asked Bella.

“You do realize that we came together, right?” she asked.

“We may have arrived together, but I’d like to hope that you came more than a few times since we got here, whereas I have not come a single time.”

Bella giggled and glanced back at the man before she smiled at me and asked, “You are just feeling yourself this afternoon, aren’t you?”

“Obviously, I’m gonna have to since there’s not exactly anyone standing in line to do it for me!”

“I volunteer as tribute!” I glanced over my shoulder and found the tattooed man with his hand up.

Bella laughed as I rolled over onto my stomach so I could get another good look at the man who had made himself part of our conversation.

“I thought you were working,” I retorted.

“I can multitask.”

“That’s yet to be proven,” I said drolly as I let my gaze trail down to look at his hands - one of my weaknesses when it came to men.

“Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about you being lonely,” Bella quipped. “Let me help y’all out. Squid, this is . . .”

“Squid?”

“Cydney,” I corrected. “Only my friends and family call me Squid.”

“In that case, my name is Kenny.”

“Cydney, Kenny. Kenny, this is Cydney. You two play nice, now,” Bella ordered.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I asked sassily.

“Do you want to go exploring later or not?” Bella asked.

I gave her a bored expression and said, “All you want to explore is Mr. Mobster, so being the wonderful bestie that I am, I won’t interrupt your opportunity.”

“What are you going to do all evening then?”

I shrugged and then was shocked to hear the man offer, “I’ll entertain her.”

“I thought you were working,” I reminded him.

“I can take the night off to play tour guide. What do you want to see?” he asked.

“Matteo offered to take us to dinner,” Bella reminded me.

“Why don’t you and Matteo go on an official date, and I’ll hang out with Kenny and see the sights,” I suggested with a grin.

“You’re not worried about taking off with a stranger? Don’t you watch the news?” he asked.

I looked over at Rocco, the guard Matteo had assigned to me, and smiled before I said, “I have a feeling that I’ll probably be the safest tourist in Vegas.”

Kenny glanced over at Rocco and then back at me before he said, “I’m into some kinky shit, but that’s a little beyond my boundaries.”

I burst out laughing and watched Bella walk off, but over her shoulder she called out, “You kids be good and don’t stay out too late. We’ve got a flight to catch tomorrow evening, and I can’t miss it.”

“Yes, Mom!” Kenny and I yelled in unison.

“You’re connected,” the man said before he looked over at Rocco again.

I didn’t even try to pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about and said, “Only by association.”

“What is he gonna do later when I take you up to your hotel and do unmentionably fantastic things to your body?” he asked with a slow grin that was so hot I felt like I was melting beneath his gaze.

I didn’t admit that to him, though. Instead, I said, “You seem pretty sure of yourself, considering you thought I was a prostitute just a few minutes ago.”

“We’re all prostitutes in one way or another,” Kenny said with a shrug. “Some people are just more honest about it than others.”

“That’s an interesting and introspective observation.”

“I have those occasionally. I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”

“No, I don’t, but hopefully, I’ll find out if we spend the afternoon together.”

“I’m all yours - well, for the day anyway.”

“I think this Vegas trip is going to be much more fun than I thought.”

◆◆◆

DICE

The woman who had been lounging poolside was quite a distraction, but once I realized she had a guard with her, I instantly knew she was trouble.

I’d been living in Vegas almost my entire life and seen a lot of things over the years. When I was younger, I met more than my fair share of criminals because of their association with my father. I’d also known a vast array of working girls, from prostitutes walking the street to high-end escorts who charged thousands for an hour of their time. Now that I lived here on my own, I knew the same array of people for entirely different reasons.

No longer was I Charlie’s boy who hung around the perimeter of whatever bullshit situation he was in the middle of. Now I was Dice, a prominent businessman and television personality who was famous for my tattoo work and shop here in Las Vegas. As much as I wanted to forget my roots, they were embedded deep in the Vegas Strip, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t pull away from it.

So, after years of running, I finally came home, but this time, I landed on the opposite side of the world I knew. Instead of sleeping outside of a casino in my father’s car, I now lived in the penthouse suite of one. Instead of foraging through trash bins behind some of the most expensive restaurants and picking bits of lobster out of the discarded tails with whatever other scraps I could find, I sat at a table in those same restaurants and was served the entire lobster and all the things that went with it.

Although, I had to admit, those dining experiences were few and far between. I’d been poor for way too long to throw my money away on things that didn’t last. Instead, I was frugal and investment-minded - hence the real estate purchases I had made around Vegas and the various companies I was part of that were scattered across the United States.

I still dealt with people making the wrong assumptions about me. I actually benefited from being mislabeled as someone who probably couldn’t get a “real” job or pay his own bills. It was easy to take a true measure of a person when they thought you were lesser than them on the economic and social ladder.

The woman who I couldn’t keep my eyes off of had surprised me which was rare. Obviously, she was from money - or at least surrounded by it now. The shades she wore cost at least a couple hundred dollars and the handbag so haphazardly tossed beneath her lounge chair was a luxury brand that cost triple that when it was on sale. That she was here under the protection of someone in the mafia meant she hobnobbed with the elite of Las Vegas or at least the elite in this hotel, considering it was owned by a prominent mafia family.

When her friend called her, I realized my assumption was very wrong. It was obvious she wasn’t some snooty rich bitch, especially after she mentioned that she had just gotten off patrol. That told me the pool beauty, who I still thought was probably trouble with a capital T, had some good friends that were just regular people. What surprised me even more was when they started discussing things about their club and a benefit ride they were planning for later in the fall. When she and her friend started talking about ordering a new exhaust for her bike . . . yes, her bike . . . I started planning our wedding. My interest level went from “look at that eye candy” to “I want to sit down and talk to this woman” and maybe see if she might be interested in taking my name and bearing my children.

I needed to spend some time with her to find out if she really was the whole enchilada. The entire package. An angel sent down from heaven to bless me with her presence and fulfill my every fantasy. An actual biker with skin that looked smooth as silk and hair I wanted to see spread out on my pillow - hopefully, not some vapid nitwit who used the word “like” as if it was a comma and couldn’t go three minutes without posting a selfie on her Instagram.

Maybe Debbie was right - I had become a little jaded when it came to my opinions of the opposite sex.

“What are you doodling?”

I looked up from my sketchpad and asked, “Doodling?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

I found myself offended for some reason and scoffed, “Children doodle. I’m an artist.”

“Okay, Picasso, what are you drawing?”

“I’m sketching out a new tattoo.”

“Shouldn’t you leave that to your artist?” she asked as she studied the ink on my arms and legs. “It looks like you’ve got a good one, although that piece on your calf needs some touching up. You probably can’t see it because it’s near the back, but there’s a faded area near the edge that could use some work.”

“Says the woman who doesn’t have any ink at all.”

She smiled secretively and teased, “At least, not any that you can see.”

I looked down the length of her body and thought she must be bluffing. Her tankini wasn’t as revealing as some I’d seen, with a cropped tank tied at her neck with a single string that matched the ones tied at her hips. Even though there was some hidden skin, there was no way she was hiding much ink behind that suit.

“Did you get a gecko tattooed on your ass during Spring Break in Daytona?” I asked sarcastically.

“I’m not into lizards,” she said vaguely, not answering my implied question about the where and what of the mystery tattoo.

I decided to change the subject, silently praying that at some point this evening I’d be invited to go on an exploration to find this mystery ink, and asked, “What do you want to do this evening?”

“Have you ever been to the neon museum?”

I laughed before I said, “Actually, I haven’t.”

“And you live here? Why haven’t you ever gone?” I shrugged, and she laughed. “I understand, though. We’ve got a tourist trap back home that everyone knows about and locals avoid like the plague.”

“It’s not that,” I assured her before I admitted, “I’ve actually wanted to check it out, but I didn’t want to go alone.”

“Well, then you should take me there. I already looked it up, and it closes at ten, so I’d like to get there no later than seven so I have plenty of time to look around.”

I looked at my watch and asked, “What time is now?”

Cydney burst out laughing and said, “Let me see that!” I gathered up my things and walked over to sit on the lounge chair next to hers before I held my arm out and showed her my tattoo. “I love it! Why did you choose a watch?”

I took a second to think about how much I wanted to share and then just leveled with her in as few words as possible.

“When I was about fourteen, my grandfather was diagnosed with an aggressive type of cancer. The last time I saw him, he gave me the watch he had worn for most of his life. It was a gift from my grandmother who died before I was born. He told me to wear it every day and remember that he is always with me even after he is gone.”

“I have a feeling there’s more to that story, especially since you have a tattoo there and not the watch itself.”

“I woke up one morning, and the watch was gone. I searched everywhere for it . . . I just knew it had to be nearby. I was convinced that it couldn’t have fallen too far away, but no matter how thoroughly I searched, it was nowhere to be found.”

“Oh, no. You weren’t ever able to find it?”

“Turns out my father took it off my wrist while I was sleeping and pawned it to get gambling money.” Cydney looked stricken, and I gave her a tight smile before I explained, “He was a gambling addict. The reason I didn’t have to look far to find the lost watch was because my bedroom was the backseat of his car.”

“Did he ever get help? Did he try to find the watch for you again?” When I shook my head, she narrowed her eyes and whispered, “I hope karma fucks him in the ass with a cactus.”

“I think it did in the end.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He died alone. I’d think that would be pretty fitting since he ran off everyone who ever loved him, including me.”

“That’s karma right there,” Cydney agreed. “She’s a fickle bitch, but damn, she is thorough.” I burst out laughing, and Cydney smiled at me before she said, “I’m sorry your dad did that to you, Kenny. That was really shitty.” I shrugged, embarrassed and a bit ashamed that I’d divulged one of my saddest memories to a relative stranger. She must have understood how I was feeling because she changed the subject when she said, “You know what would probably take your mind off of it? Taking me for a walk down the Strip so I can people-watch and then feeding me something mind-blowing before our museum trip.”

“You think that would help?”

“I don’t know for sure, but it will definitely help me pass the time. I’m not used to lazing around like this. If I don’t get up and do something soon, I’m going to get stir-crazy.”

“I thought you were having a chill day.”

“I did. I have. I haven’t looked at my laptop in almost five hours. Five hours, Kenny. It’s a record.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” I told her as I stood up. I pulled one of my business cards out of my pocket and said, “Get dressed and give me a call when you’re ready to go.”

“Are you going to answer when I call?”

“Nothing could stop me. I have a feeling that spending the evening with you will be the highlight of my year.”

“I guarantee it.”