Page 35 of All Bets Are Off

“I only do that the day before the maids come.”

“Ah, so it’s their job to pick up your discarded toenails.”

“They vacuum right up!”

“You also use way too much aftershave. Your bedroom is at the opposite side of the suite from my bedroom, and I can still smell you an hour after you’ve left.”

“That’s Sauvage.”

She didn’t respond.

“By Dior,” I pressed. “I’ll have you know that Sauvage is like catnip for women. They can’t stop themselves from rubbing all over me when I wear it.”

“That’s the Ralph Lauren suit you wear to work. They don’t care about the aftershave. They just care that your wallet is as thick as your head.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I have a great personality. People are attracted to me because of that.”

“Yes, women take one look at you across the casino floor and say ‘what a great personality’ before you’ve even said a word. That’s exactly how that works.”

My glare grew more pronounced. “Don’t change the subject. We’re talking about your refusal to pick up after yourself.”

“I didn’t refuse. I said I would do it later.”

I growled.

She smiled.

“What about a job?” I suggested, changing the subject out of the blue. “You’ve been sitting up here reading ridiculous romance novels for a week. I thought you were trying to figure out something to do with your life.”

That must have been the exact wrong thing to say because she finally lowered the book.

“Are you suggesting I’m lazy?” she challenged.

Was that a nerve?Apparently, I’d struck a nerve. Well, good. That’s exactly what I was going for.

“I’m not saying you’re lazy,” I countered. “I’m saying you’re not doing anything. I get that you were recovering from your surgery for a few days—although that did not stop you from hitting the bar less than twenty-four hours after you went under the knife so you and Tallulah could flirt it up—but you’re fine now. You could be looking for a job.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not working in the cage.”

Where had that come from? “I didn’t suggest you work in the cage. I can ask the head of the accounting department?—”

“I’ll find my own job.” Her voice was unnaturally squeaky now. “I’m not a deadbeat. I’m not here to float or live off you or anything.”

Something told me I should stop now and let it go. I couldn’t seem to manage that. “This doesn’t look like you getting a job.”

She slammed down the book and got to her feet. Her eyes were full of fire. “I’ll go polish up my resumé right now.”

“That sounds like a productive way to start the day.”

She glared at me for the entire walk to her room. “I’m not lazy.”

Why was that a freaking trigger? “I didn’t say you were. I just thought … maybe…” There was nothing I could say here to ratchet down the fire simmering between us. “You know what? You do whatever you want. Me? I’m going to work.” I stomped toward the door a second time. “Have fun with your fake romance heroes. Just know, you’re never going to find someone like that in the real world.”

“Thanks for your input.” She slammed her bedroom door.

I stared after her for a long time. I could’ve followed her and demand we hash out our issues. It was going to be a long year if things kept up like this. Instead, I shook my head and moved toward the exit. If I kept fighting with her, things were going to explode. We might not be able to walk things back if we got to that place. “I’m going to work,” I yelled toward the door.

I couldn’t be certain, but I was convinced I’d heard a growl of some sort on the other side. How could she be angry with me? I didn’t get it.

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