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“Look, Daddy, a princess!” the red-haired little girl said, pointing.She tugged on her dad’s hand excitedly, as if he couldn’t see Eve in her ridiculously puffy white dress, walking directly toward the two of them.
Eve smiled at the child and gave her a little wave. The girl brightened even more, responding with a sunny, gap-toothed grin.
“Don’t point at the lady, Scarlett. It’s rude.”
“She’s aprincess, Daddy. Abrideone.”
What a sweetheart. Now that the two were right in front of her, Eve saw freckles dotting her cute little nose.
“I’m getting waffles!” Scarlett informed her.“Chocolate chip ones!”
“Yum,” Eve enthused, and the girl’s smile widened.
Her dad nodded apologetically at Eve as they passed by and disappeared inside Caesars Palace, undoubtedly headed for the famous Bacchanal Buffet.
It delighted Eve to see happy children who had no cares in the world. Whose parents loved them. Doting parents who protected them and didn’t let harm get close. It was easy to spot good family dynamics just by observing body language. She’d become good at it since reading people was crucial to success in what she did. She often gravitated to the type of loving family she longed to have had.
So many parents came to Las Vegas with their children in tow. That was the city’s allure: something for everyone, from the most innocent to the most depraved.
It was one of the latter she had just left behind at Caesars, and she couldn’t wait to get home and scrub herself clean of all she’d had to do last night. It involved ticklers, a giant plastic drop cloth, and whipped cream, all while wearing a white bridal ball gown because the request had been to pretend to be the client’s new wife.
Little Scarlett had thought she’d found a princess.
Ha.
At least the dress still looked presentable enough for public view, albeit stiff where the whipped cream and the guy’s load had dried. Eve’s shoulders sagged as the red Eleet limo pulled up. She was exhausted, her hands were sticky, and her feet hurt from the pointy-toed white patentstilettos the client had requested.
The driver came around to open her door.“Good morning, Eve.”
“Hi, Charlie.” She slid in and rubbed her temples.
He eyed her sympathetically.“Rough night?”
She must have looked terrible.“Youdo notwant to know.”
Awkwardly gathering her voluminous skirts, she tossed her black tote onto the seat beside her and sank into the cushioned leather. Charlie closed the door, and she kicked off her pumps, letting her head fall back against the headrest.
She did like Las Vegas. Despite its craziness, the city had a unique pulse and energy on which she thrived. But on mornings like this, she dreamed of being somewhere else. She visualized a golden beach, a sparkling turquoise ocean with rolling, white-tipped waves, and salty, humid air that wasn’t so dry that she needed to buy moisturizer by the case.
Her cell phone rang inside her bag with a little wind-chime tune.
Eleet.
Eve didn’t move and let it ring. It stopped. She sighed and reached for a small bottle of fresh-squeezed juice stocked in the limo’s bar. She twisted off the cap and took a big, fortifying swallow, savoring the tang of orange on her tongue.
The cell phone chimed again.
Same ringtone.
“Give me a break,” she muttered, capping the juice and reaching inside her tote to fumble for the phone.“Hello.” She failed at trying not to sound annoyed.
“That good of a night, huh?” came Kitty’s purring voice.
“Add Carson to my no list.” She put Kitty on speaker and uncapped the juice again.
“He just came off your waitlist!” Kitty sighed.“Dang, Eve. You didn’t hear this from me, but there are grumblings that your no list is getting much too long. Which brings me to the reason I’m calling you.”
Eve closed her eyes. This wouldn’t be good.