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CASH
I BLINK RAPIDLY, MAKING SUREthat Everly isn’t a mirage.
My meeting with the Stafford Holdings board of directors just wrapped up, and I stopped by the hotel bar for a drink before meeting up with some friends to party. I don’t get to come to Vegas often, so I take full advantage of its nightlife when I do. The last thing I expected was to see Everly Townstead being accosted at the bar by some creep.
I’m distracted when my phone buzzes with a text, coincidentally, from her twin brother.
Theo: Don’t play too hard while you’re in Vegas.
Cash: I can’t make any promises.
Evidently, he didn’t deem it relevant to tell me Everly was going to be in Vegas the same week as me.
Theo and I have remained close since high school, staying connected through calls and texts when he moved to London ten years ago after graduating from culinary school. However, I haven’t seen Everly since the summer after high school. We fell out of touch when she moved away to college, and our paths never crossed over the years.
I slip my phone into my pocket to avoid any more distractions.
“Hello, Ev.” Her childhood nickname passes my lips like it was only yesterday when we were hanging out in the backyard of the old Miller house.
“Stafford.” She gives me a curt nod but averts her gaze.
Despite her cold greeting, warmth floods my chest at her use of my nickname. It almost makes up for her mask of indifference and her refusal to make eye contact. The Everly I grew up with was friendly and affectionate. In contrast, this version is distant and guarded.
“Theo didn’t tell me you’d be in Vegas,” I say, sliding into the seat on her left, avoiding the chair her unwanted guest just vacated. The creep may think he got away with how he treated Everly, but he’s mistaken.
Everly finally meets my gaze, fixing me with a scowl. “Do you and my brother make a habit of discussing my whereabouts?”
“No, not usually,” I answer with a hint of amusement.
“He told me you’re living in London and heading up the European division of Townstead International. That’s impressive,” I commend her.
My conversations with Theo usually revolve around sports, business, and our one-night stands. His family is a sensitive subject, and he doesn’t talk about his parents, or share much with me about Everly’s personal life.
Everly tugs her lower lip between her teeth, a habit that hints something is bothering her—at least it did when she was younger.
“He exaggerated the truth,” she says with a hint of cynicism. “My dad put my step-brothers in charge of the European division when he shifted his focus to global expansion, and I report directly to them.” There’s bitterness in her tone, but I’m unsure if it’s directed at her dad or step-siblings.
“You’re a senior executive at an international real estate firm. That’s something to be proud of.” I rest my arms on the sticky bar counter.
“It’s fine, I guess,” Everly replies curtly. “August and Liam give me full autonomy, which I appreciate,” she adds in a softer tone.
I’m captivated when she picks up her martini, tilting her head back to finish her drink in one gulp. Her impeccably manicured nails are painted crimson red, matching the lipstick stain she’s left on the glass.
“My mom says that if someone tells you they’re fine, it means they’re anything but,” I muse, shifting my focus from her mouth back to her eyes.
“That sounds like something Johanna would say,” Everly replies with a faint smile.
She turns her attention away from me as she tries to flag down the bartender. He’s preoccupied with two flirtatious women at the other end of the bar, lining up a row of shots in front of them. While Everly is momentarily distracted, I take the opportunity to observe her more closely.
She’s dressed in a pristine ivory suit with a white lace camisole peeking out from under her jacket, complementing her smooth, olive-toned skin. Her jet-black hair is tied up into a flawless high ponytail. Her chocolate-brown eyes are dull, like the spark inside her has been diminished, and she has astern expression etched on her face, begging the question, what happened to make her so jaded?”
Is there a reason you’re still here?” Everly’s exasperated tone jolts me back to the present. “Don’t you have business to attend to or something?” She waves toward the exit, her voice betraying a trace of uncertainty.
“Are you that eager to get rid of me, Ev?” I lean in closer, inhaling the scent of her perfume—a mix of jasmine, lavender, and vanilla.
God, she smells incredible.