Page 7 of Dirty Little Sins

I'd also enjoyed every last second of it right up until—

"He refused to disclose the VIP’s name. Only that we all had no choice but to accommodate the request."

I frowned as I padded across the room and slipped into the opulent bathroom. I had to admit I was fairly thrilled at my accommodations here at The Sinclair. No expense had been spared when it came to the luxury touches for guests.

It was also clear that unless I wanted to contact Mr. Michaels myself and throw a fit over the inconvenience of this last minute party, I would have to get this done.

Not that I was in any position to fit throw. While my position here seemed secure, I knew all too well how the tables could turn against me in a blink. My ex had proven that. I frowned at my reflection in the mirror as I banked the resentment that never seemed to be far from the surface.

As I got ready in the bathroom, first scrubbing my face clean, I mentally reviewed my agenda for the day. When I rinsed, I glanced up to see Julie appear in the doorway.

"I really did try to tell them no. Your schedule for today and every day for the next four weeks is jam packed. I honestly have no idea how you're going to squeeze this in."

I nodded, acknowledging the fact that she had tried her best. We both knew what my schedule would be like while I was here in Vegas. Between the filming of the final episodes of my show's first season and the first half of the second season that would actually center around the preparations for the new restaurant and the actual opening and every detail that entailed, it was going to take a miracle and twenty-hour days.

But my future was riding on all of it and I couldn't afford to screw this up.

"Go ahead and tell him yes, but make sure he realizes that hewillowe me for this. And then pull up the timeline I worked up for the restaurant. He's lucky the kitchen is in somewhat of a working order. Although it's still bare bones." As Julie frantically worked on her tablet to accommodate my rapid fire requests, a possible menu for this private party began to form in my mind.

There were several new dishes I wanted to experiment with for the restaurant and this actually, could be the perfect opportunity to do so. When it came to opening night, I needed it to be nothing short of sublime. Not only because the critics would be standing by to knock me down a peg or two, but because my entire career could be riding on this success.

Not to mention my financial future.

"What about your meetings for today? Should I attempt to reschedule?"

I shook my head. "No, to do so would only put us further behind. However, we should plan on working through both lunch and dinner. It's definitely not going to be easy. But this kind of thing is not completely unexpected. Part of the reason they brought me here was to show off what I could do to their most important guests. The point of the arrangement after all is that they draw people in and in return, I am exposed to a wide variety of influential people who may have never heard of me. So it's my job to deliver a dining experience they will never forget."

Julie snorted. "Well, they could've at least waited until the restaurant was open. How the hell do they expect you to get everything done on time if you have to drop everything to cater a party for some spoiled celebrity or worse some rich gazillionaire with more money than sense?"

I laughed. She wasn't wrong about that and I once again wondered who the host of this impromptu party would be. Gabe and Nina both understood my tight schedule so it must be pretty important for them to have thrown this at me.

"We'll make do. We always do. Besides, as long as they don't mind being my guinea pig I guess we will both benefit. But I'm going to need you to stay on top of everything while I deal with this today. We can't afford to drop the ball on the tiniest detail. Not even for a second."

"Don't worry about that," Julie assured. "I've got a list for my list and so many alarms set on my phone there is no way I will not know what's going on at all times."

"Good. Now don't just stand there, you've got details to work out and I need to get ready so we can jumpstart this insanity already."

I needed the perfect outfit and fortunately, my wardrobe was the only thing my bastard of an ex-husband had not bothered to take from me. It really was the only thing though. Bitterness welled in my throat, threatening to choke me. The reminder of that, however small, was more than I could handle at the moment. I gritted my teeth and pushed it down and out of my mind. That bastard didn't deserve another second of my time and this was not how I was going to start my first day at the Sinclair.

I disappeared into the enormous walk-in closet directly off of the bathroom and soaked up the decadence of real wood built ins with the faint, but distinct scent of cedar lining the enormous space. Not to mention the lush thick carpeting cushioning my feet and the real crystal chandelier that lit the room in a way that made everything inside sparkle.

I might not be able to afford such luxuries anymore, but I could certainly take advantage of them when they were offered for free. So far, no one had figured out just how broke I was. Or if they had figured it out, they'd kept the information to themselves. The press had speculated about our divorce settlement, but even they couldn't be sure. The one thing I'd done right was make Dante sign an iron clad non-disclosure agreement regarding the settlement of our divorce. If he broke it, then he would forfeit everything he'd taken.

As I selected a silk pantsuit in my favorite shade of green, I tried hard to forget how my savings had been depleted as well as the fact that all of my immediate cash reserves had basically been stolen by a man who had done nothing to either earn or deserve them.

I hated the bitterness those facts had seared into my mind. But it couldn't be helped. Not when I didn't know which was worse. Trying to make a full financial recovery after losing almost everything while on a precarious public perch, or knowing that I'd taken a risk I couldn't afford because one out of this world gorgeous man had offered me a taste of something I'd never tried and paid dearly for it.

I swear I'd never considered myself a true risk taker before now. But looking back at the last few years that obviously wasn't the case. Opening the dessert bar in Manhattan had been a venture ripe for failure, but had taken off in directions I couldn't have expected.

The show had been an unexpected bonus. A happy accident actually. And while it was still trying to find a big enough of an audience to keep going for a second season, I'd been nominated for an award that could make or break its success.

I was slowly but surely building an empire, one where I would be the queen. Or at least the one in control of my own future. I stood in front of the mirror and examined my appearance from hair and makeup to my designer pumps that would soon be last season.

I didn't give a shit about stupid things like that except for the fact if I wasn't careful these little details would be noticed and reported on. And I didn't need the added complication of being on some douchebag’s fashion faux pas list. I had enough to worry about.

I made a mental note to send Julie on a hunt for some classic vintage clothing. If I couldn't afford haute couture, then I would make a purposeful statement with vintage clothes. I smiled, really liking that idea.

As long as I kept an iron tight grip on that confidence everything would work out fine. It had to.

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