Page 3 of Loving Lex

I felt that hand like a cattle brand long after she strutted away and took off in her Mercedes. “Damn,” I muttered with a head shake as I made my way upstairs to my apartment.

I had to grin as I grabbed a protein shake from my fridge on the way to the shower. Two points to the spunky little Duchess.

I downed a bottle of water after my shower then paced to peer through my blinds, my sour mood back in full swing. Should I go back to Cameo at night during peak club hours, or—?

I spun when my phone pinged with a text.

It was nothing more than an address and a time... in one hour.

Very fucking mysterious, but I figured this was the elusive Gideon Kane’s way of summoning me to his inner sanctum to discuss my request for a job.

“Well, it’s about damn time.”

I rolled upto the address I’d been given five minutes early and parked, eying the exterior. Sleek but benign, it fit in with the other nondescript stone and brick buildings well. You’d never know it belonged to a dangerous crime family. A simple metallic sign in clean font above the door read:Kane Enterprises.

I killed the engine and pocketed my keys as I strode toward the door. Nobody was in sight, but I still felt eyes on me. I yanked open the door and was greeted by a friendly-looking blonde with a big smile behind a large reception desk, who was flanked by a non-smiling bodyguard in an expensive suit with the distinctive bulge of a large caliber pistol under his jacket.

“Hello,” she chirped, apparently used to his presence. “How can I help you?”

I quickly refocused on her. “Lex Mathison. I have an appointment.”

She glanced at the computer screen in front of her and clicked a few keys before turning back to me. “Yes, sir, Mr. Mathison.” She lifted the phone receiver and spoke softly to someone on the other end before hanging up. “Someone will be with you in just a moment.”

I nodded and pivoted to study the small area that passed for a lobby. Sleek and minimalistic, lots of chrome and black, very contemporary. I wanted to shake my head at the absurdity of a mobster playing businessman, complete with pretty receptionist, but all I could do was try to envision Stone here. He’d seemed content when he called. He’d never given any indication he was unhappy at his job. If anything, it sounded like he respected his boss. Had it been in vain? Had that respect made him complacent and gotten him killed?

“Mr. Mathison?”

I spun at the receptionist’s smiling voice to find a gigantic man, dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt, his arms covered in tattoos, his expression fierce as he studied me from the doorway.

“This is JD,” she said, indicating the beast of a man. “He’ll take you to Mr. Kane.”

I nodded, refusing to be intimidated. “Great.”

I was patted down for weapons, and then we slow-strolled down the hall. The guy was about my height and silent, which suited me fine; I wasn’t here to chat. At least not with him. We wound down a long hallway, and I took in what I could, but there wasn’t much. A few offices, some more muscle.

We eventually stopped at a large door where JD gave a terse knock before swinging the door open and walking in.

I assumed I was to follow, so I stepped inside the massive office and took in the giant mahogany desk which stood in front of a spectacular view of the Vegas skyline in the distance and the archway of Fremont Street a couple of blocks away. An impressive wet bar to the side was stocked with clearly expensive liquor and crystal glassware; there was a full wall of screens filled with live images from security cameras, then last... the imposing man behind the desk.

He stood slowly and rounded to greet me, and we took each other in quickly, assessing the other in one calculating sweep.

Gideon Kane... the man behind the curtain of the Vegas underworld. Dark hair. Blacker than black eyes. Dark suit that probably cost more than I made in all my years in the military combined. An aura of... not danger so much as commanded respect. He was in charge, he’d earned it, and he fucking knew it.

The jury was still out on that as far as I was concerned, but I’d roll with it for now. I stuck out my hand. “Mr. Kane. Thank you for seeing me.”

His eyes glinted as we shook. “Of course. Have a seat.” He tipped his chin toward JD, who left the room, shutting the door quietly. We both sat, and he leaned forward with his elbows on the desk, his hands clasped. “So, what can I do for you?”

“As I said when I stopped by the club, I’m looking for a job.”

He leaned back, his eyes raking me over like a predator about to devour its prey. “Yes, I heard. Something in security.” He tilted his head. “But that wasn’t my question.”

I paused, sensing a trap. “I’m not—”

“Mr. Mathison,” he interrupted, his voice low and ominous, yet sounding like a boom. “I’m a very busy man. I don’t have time to fuck around. Let me assure you that I knowexactlywho you are, and I did from the moment you set foot on my wife’s property.”

I lifted a brow in question.His wife?

He nodded. “Yes,Lex. My wife owns Cameo. So, I’m sure you’ll appreciate that I go to great lengths to protect her and her interests, and that includes the most sophisticated facial recognition security.” He paused for effect. “I don’t abide people who try to manipulate me. So, yes, lying to me when I know who you are, your goddamn shoe size, blood type, what time you took a shit this morning, and the names of every member of your family—won’t work in your favor. I didn’t get to where I am by being careless, Mr. Mathison.” He lifted a hand when he saw my protest forming and stood. “I think we’re done here. JD will see you out.”

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