Page 5 of All Bets Are Off

I’d pulled the thread, which led to a cascade of more discrepancies. Then I’d discovered an avalanche. It was an avalanche that had almost buried me.

Upon finding out that my boss was embezzling money, I’d gone to the head of the company, who just so happened to be his father. He’d thanked me profusely for discovering what his son had been doing—he was mortified to find out how much hookers and blow that money had gone toward—and then he called his son into his office. I expected there would be a trip to rehab and more oversight appointed to my boss. There was no way his own father would fire him, right?

Wrong. Three days later, my boss had been ousted from his corner office. The family was fighting. A week after that, while still thanking me for discovering the error, Bucky Bradford Sr. had informed me they were scaling back operations and that my position was no longer required.

He’d given me a decent severance package, of course. He seemed legitimately sorry that he had to pull the rug out from under me. That didn’t change the fact that I was now jobless in Las Vegas, and I had no idea what my reputation looked like. What if the senior Mr. Bradford decided to blame the money lapse on me? I couldn’t know what was being said in private circles.

I was uneasy, though, and an uneasy Olivia was not a good thing.

“Come on.” Rex gave me an elbow to the side. “You did the right thing.”

That was one thing I didn’t doubt. Losing my job sucked—I needed a bigger word than “sucked” because it didn’t suffice—but I’d been duty bound to report the accounting errors. The fact that I’d been unceremoniously dumped from the position I’d happily held for three years even though I’d done the rightthing was still a kick in the pants. Did I mention the cowboy was wearing spurs when he kicked me?

“What am I supposed to do?” I demanded of my brother as I sipped my pink cocktail. Getting drunk likely wasn’t the smartest move, but since I didn’t have to be anywhere the next day, I saw no reason not to embrace the idea of a hangover. At least I wouldn’t be bored.

“You’re a good accountant,” Rex said. “You’ve always been good at that stuff. I bet you’ll have another job by the end of the week.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What if they’re secretly bad-mouthing me, though?”

“Why would they?”

“I don’t know.” Frustration reared up and grabbed me by the throat, making my voice squeakier than normal. “What if they’re trying to blame me for what happened so their son doesn’t look so bad?”

“They wouldn’t do that.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Rex seemed to reconsider them. “Probably,” he added.

I scowled. “You know as well as I do that they’ll do it. Appearance is everything in Vegas.” I stared mournfully into my glass. “I’m in trouble.”

“You’re going to be fine.” Rex squeezed my shoulder. “If you want, I can talk to Zach.”

I shot him a dirty look. Despite my mother’s insistence that Zach and Rex would fall out of touch as they got older, the opposite had happened. They were as tight as ever, and Zach had basically installed Rex in one of the cushiest gigs in Vegas. My brother was head of security at Stone Casino & Resort, which had a prime location directly across from the Bellagio and was one of the most popular casinos on the strip.

Zach was in management—I had no idea what he did for his father—and he and Rex spent their days pretending they werediligent employees and their nights scoping out women at the various bars and clubs. I’d seen Zach here and there over the years. He’d grown up to be even hotter than he had been as a teenager—which should’ve been against the law in my book—but we weren’t close. In fact, whenever we saw each other, we ended up bristling and snarling.

He continued to call me Shorty, even though I had managed to gain three inches in a weird after-fifteen growth spurt that brought me up to a perfectly respectable five-foot-four. I retaliated by suggesting he was going to have to buy stock in whatever STD drug was about to become trendy to afford the treatment for himself. Then we glared at each other for five minutes before pretending the other didn’t exist.

For that reason alone, I rarely accepted the invitations Rex tossed my way when he and Zach had a night planned on the town. I always came up with an excuse. It was always a grand excuse, of course. The truth would’ve made them both feel sorry for me. “I’m polishing my toenails and eating Phish Food ice cream straight out of the tub” didn’t make me sound like I was beating off the fun fairies with a stick.

Not that I cared what Zach thought anyway. I just didn’t want to look pathetic. I hated that more than anything.

“I don’t need Zach’s help,” I said. “I’m not taking a job from him.”

“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting a job.” Rex let loose a giggle that turned into a full-on guffaw. “You guys would kill one another.”

He wasn’t wrong. Still, he’d piqued my curiosity. “If you weren’t talking about a job, what were you talking about?”

“His family knows everybody in the business,” Rex replied. “If somebody is spreading bad rumors about you, they’ll be able to track them back to their source.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t the worst idea I’d ever heard. Still, I shook my head. “No. I’m not sure I want to know.” Absently, I pokedmy cheek. The dull ache there that never fully went away was a constant reminder of exactly what I’d lost. “I called the dentist.”

I hadn’t even realized I’d said it out loud until Rex sent me an odd look. “You’re dating a dentist?” He looked horrified at the thought. “Did I ever tell you about the time I was dating that chick who claimed she had teeth in her vagina?”

“We’re still talking about me,” I reminded him. I loved my brother—no, truly—and he was giving of heart. He was also a bit of a narcissist. His favorite subject was himself.

“Sorry.” Rex turned sheepish. “I think I lost track of the conversation. What does the dentist have to do with you losing your job?”

Ah, the question to end all questions. “I have a few issues.” This was hard for me to admit. It wasn’t as if I was telling him about a gynecological visit or something—I would never do that—but it was still an odd conversation. “I know Mom and Dad did their best when we were kids, but I need you to keep this to yourself.”

Rex was no longer making eyes at the women across the bar. His sole focus was on me. “What’s wrong?”

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