Page 35 of My Billionaire Casino Boss

Her words resonate with me, a reminder that I’ve been neglecting my own needs in the midst of helping Thomas. I promise her that I’ll try to remember, and for the rest of the day, we just enjoy each other’s company, forgetting about the world outside our little bubble.

By the time the sun starts to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, I feel lighter and happier. I feel like myself again. And as I watch the sun dip below the horizon, I make a silent promise to myself. No matter what happens, I won’t lose myself in the process. I won’t let the chaos of my life overshadow the person I am.

On Ally’s last night in Tahoe, we decide to go out and have some fun. Eric joins us, and we end up at another casino, one that’s a bit more low-key than Thomas’s place. I want to avoid running into him, to avoid the awkwardness and tension that’s sure to follow.

The casino is bustling with activity, the air filled with the clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversation, and the occasional cheer from a lucky winner. We find a table near the back, away from the main crowd. Eric orders a round of drinks, and we toast to Ally’s visit. The atmosphere is light and carefree, a welcome change from the tension of the past few days.

We try our luck at a few of the games. Ally proves to be surprisingly good at blackjack, and Eric, despite his protests, is roped into a game of poker. I stick to the slot machines, the simplicity of the game a welcome distraction.

And then I see him—Thomas. He’s across the room, surrounded by a group of his buddies. My heart sinks into a knot of anxiety forming in my stomach. I hadn’t expected to run into him here.

Ally notices my sudden tension and follows my gaze. “Oh,” she says, her voice tight. “It’s him.”

Eric looks over as well, his expression hardening. “Don’t worry, Lily,” he says, his voice firm. “We’ve got your back.”

Despite their reassurances, the discomfort doesn’t completely leave me. I watch as Thomas spots us, his eyes meeting mine across the room. There’s a moment of recognition, a flicker of something in his eyes that I can’t quite decipher.

He makes his way over to us, his friends trailing behind him. “Lily,” he says, his voice neutral. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

I stiffen, crossing my arms over my chest. “Well, I am here,” I reply, my voice colder than I intended.

Ally steps in then, her protective side coming out. “We’re just here to have a good time, Thomas,” she says, her voice sharp. “So why don’t you go back to your friends and leave us alone?”

Thomas looks taken aback, but he doesn’t argue. He simply nods, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before he turns and walks away.

The rest of the night is a blur. We play a few games and have a few more drinks, but the encounter with Thomas has left a sour taste in my mouth. Guilt flares in me for the way we treated him, but I push it aside. I have to remember that he’s the one who started all this, who dragged me into this mess in the first place.

As we leave the casino, I glance back, my eyes finding Thomas across the room. He’s watching me, his expression unreadable. I turn away, a strange feeling settling in my chest.

nineteen

All's Fair - Thomas

Intheaftermathofmy fight with Lily, I find myself seething with a mix of anger and hurt. I can’t shake off the coldness in her voice, the way she dismissed our connection as nothing more than a fleeting moment of nostalgia. It stings, more than I care to admit.

In a moment of spite, I do something deeply stupid. I call Hillary. I ask her if she’d like to join me for dinner at a fancy restaurant downtown, one that I know is a favorite haunt of the local paparazzi. She agrees, sounding surprised but pleased.

I regret it even as the words are leaving my mouth, but I’m stubborn as hell, and I know I’ll go through with it even if I’m only using Hillary to get back at Lily. The guilt is corrosive, eating a hole in my gut, but the hurt is too fresh and the wound is so raw. I need to show Lily that I can move on too.

The restaurant is buzzing with activity when we arrive. Hillary looks stunning in a sleek black dress, her arm looped through mine. I can feel the eyes on us as we make our way to our table, the whispers already starting.

Throughout the night, I make a show of being attentive to Hillary. I laugh at her jokes, compliment her, and make sure to keep my hand on the small of her back or on her arm. I can see people snapping phone pictures from the corner of my eye, and I know that by morning, our pictures will be plastered all over the local blogs.

It feels hollow. Every time I look at Hillary, I want to see Lily. The entire night is a poor imitation of a real date.

As we leave the restaurant, arm in arm, I glance at my phone. Half of me hopes that Lily has called or texted because she’s angry and hurt from seeing the pictures. The other half of me dreads the thought of causing her pain. I unlock my phone and see that there are no missed calls and no new messages and the silence hurts even more.

Hillary leans in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So,” she begins, her voice low and sultry, “what made you change your mind about me and us?”

I pause, my gaze meeting hers. I can see the hope in her eyes, the expectation. And I know I can’t keep up the act any longer. The guilt is gnawing at me, a constant reminder of the lie I’m living. I need to come clean. I can’t do this to Hillary or myself. I drop my head with a sigh. “I haven’t changed my mind.”

Her face falls, confusion replacing the hope in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

I reach into my pocket and pull out a check, which I place in her hand. I gently close her fingers around it before stepping back from her. “That’s for you,” I say, “Consider it an apology for tonight.”

She looks at the check, no doubt staggered by the number of zeros, then looks back at me, her eyes wide. “Are you paying me off?” she asks, her voice incredulous.

“No. I’m apologizing for leading you on. Tonight was a mistake. I shouldn’t have used you to get back at Lily.”

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