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Popcorn bounced out of Rylee’s hands and scattered at her feet as the plane lurched along the runway.

“Fuck,” she muttered as she gave a sheepish smile of apology to her seatmate before bending to pick up the mess.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Las Vegas. The temperature outside is currently one hundred and thirteen degrees. Please remain seated until the captain has turned off the seatbelt signs.”

Shoving the now useless bag of popcorn into her purse, she laid her head against the seat and did her best to breathe deeply. She hated flying, but it thrilled her to be back in Vegas. The poker tournament later in the week would help her family out of a jam if she did well.

And she would do well.

The fact that a group of rich hotshots had hired her to spend two days teaching them how to play Texas Hold’Em was proof that she knew what she was doing at the table.

When her phone was out of airplane mode, it flashed a text message.

Call when you’ve landed.

After pressing the call button at the bottom of the screen, she lifted the phone to her ear and waited for someone to answer.

“Rylee, did you get in OK?”

“Mr. Novak?”

He chuckled. “That’s me. You sound surprised.”

“I just. I thought. I was expecting an assistant to answer. Didn’t know this was your direct line.”

“Memphis Foster is an important client and a good friend. I’m handling his stay in Vegas personally, and please, call me Hunter.”

“You got it, Hunter. Anyway, to answer your question, I’m still on the plane.”

The faint ding of the seatbelt sign being turned off sounded and everyone around her stood. She rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t people be patient? There was no point in everyone standing to get their bags from the overhead at the same damn time.

“Great, Rylee. Thanks for doing this. A driver is waiting for you and will bring you straight here.”

She ended the call and closed her eyes.

“You gonna get up?” the man sitting next to the window asked.

She cocked her head and stared at him. “And go where?”

He huffed and turned his attention to the window again.

Eventually, she was able to haul her bag out of the overhead bin and roll it down the aisle.

She was traveling light, so there was no need to stop at baggage claim. Instead, she went straight to the exit where a driver was supposed to be waiting.

“Miss Colton?”

A man stepped into her path as she stepped out into the Vegas heat and she jumped, having been lost in her thoughts.

“Jesus, fuck. Who are you?”

The man’s expression stayed stern.

“If you’ll follow me, Miss Colton, the car is just this way.”