Page 22 of My Billionaire Casino Boss

The Deal - Thomas

TheconfrontationwithHillarystill lingers in my mind, a bitter aftertaste of a situation spiraling out of control. Her angry eyes, the way she’d stormed off, the tension that had crackled in the air between Lily and me—it all replays in my mind like a movie I can’t pause.

I’m sitting in my office, staring blankly at the paperwork in front of me, but all I can see is Lily’s confused expression, her green eyes wide and questioning. I’d kissed her, but I was pretending to be smitten with her, all to convince Hillary that we were a real couple. But the act had felt too real, too close to what I might actually want if things were different.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts. This isn’t about what I want. It’s about what I need to do. Hillary needs to believe that Lily and I are together, and for that, I need Lily to keep playing her part.

But I can’t expect her to. She’s already done so much, and I can see the strain it’s putting on her. I need to make it worth her while—give her something she wants. And I know just the thing. With a newfound determination, I push away from my desk and head out to find Lily. It’s time to make her an offer she can’t refuse.

“Lily,” I begin, taking the seat next to her at the bar after work. She’s alone and seems tired. She turns to look at me, her green eyes meeting mine. “I have a proposition for you.”

She raises an eyebrow, her gaze skeptical. “I’m listening.”

“I want to extend our arrangement,” I say, my voice steady. “I’ll pay you a substantial amount to continue pretending to be my girlfriend for a while longer.”

Her eyes widen, surprise flickering across her face. “What?”

“And when this is all over,” I continue, “I’ll help you get a job in graphic design. I know you’ve been wanting to get back into it.”

She’s silent for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “Why?” she finally asks. “Why do you want to extend our arrangement?”

I hesitate, searching for the right words. “Hillary is still here,” I admit. “And I think…I think she might be more convinced if we keep this up a little longer.”

“But why the job help?” she presses, her gaze intense. “Why are you willing to do that for me?”

I shrug, trying to keep my expression casual. “Consider it a thank you for helping me out.”

She studies me for a moment, her gaze searching. “Do you…do you have feelings for me, Thomas?”

The question catches me off guard, my heart skipping a beat. I quickly shake my head, denying it. “No, Lily. This is purely business. I just need your help to get rid of Hillary.”

She looks at me for a long moment, her gaze unreadable. Then, she nods slowly. “All right,” she says. “I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over me, and I extend my hand to her. “Deal?”

She looks at my hand, then back up at me. After a moment, she reaches out and shakes my hand. “Deal.”

As our hands meet, I wonder if there’s more to this than just a business arrangement. But for now, I push those thoughts aside. I have a deal to uphold, and I intend to see it through.

After Lily leaves, I stay at the bar, nursing my drink. The bartender, a woman named Jenna, sidles up to me. She’s one of a small number of women from the resort I’ve hooked up with. I know she’s fine with no strings attached, but tonight, I’m not interested. I can’t get Lily out of my mind, and it frustrates me to no end.

“Boss,” Jenna says, leaning over the counter. “You look like someone dropped your ice cream cone in the sand. Can I help cheer you up?”

I shake my head. “Not tonight, Jenna.”

She looks slightly bemused but shrugs it off, moving to serve another customer. I continue drinking, the alcohol does little to numb the confusion and frustration swirling in my mind.

As the night wears on, I run into one of the floor managers from the casino, a guy named Rick. He’s a bit of a sleaze, but he’s never done anything I can fire him over.

“Hey, Tommy,” he slurs, clapping me on the back, and I wince at his tone of over-familiarity. “Seen you hanging out with the new girl a lot. How is she?” He raises his eyebrows, and I glare at him.

“In what sense?” I know what he’s asking, but I need him to say it.

“You know,” he says, elbowing me in the ribs playfully. “You hitting that?”

Something snaps inside me. Before I can think, my fist connects with his face. He stumbles back, clutching his nose as blood starts to flow. The bar goes quiet as everyone stares at us. I feel a rush of shame. This isn’t me. I don’t lose control like this.

Without a word, I throw some bills on the counter and leave the bar. The cool night air does little to soothe my heated skin. I messed up, and I know it. But that’s a problem for tomorrow.

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