Page 13 of The Girlfriend Card (Vegas Sin #4)

“Yeah, because it’s a dumb stereotype,” she said. “So why didn’t you ask Isabelle to be Jane?”

“Because Isabelle’s married to my coworker.”

“You seem really close to all your coworkers …”

“Well, yeah. We’re tight. We’re a family. And my work is my life.”

“And what is your work, exactly? Are you ever going to tell me? Or are you going to walk me into your boss’s house with no idea what it is you actually do?”

I filibustered for time as Olivia asked about my life, giving her vague non-answers about what it is I do and how I make so much money that I can pay a girl thirty grand on a whim. Eventually, she got frustrated.

“Dakota, you’re setting me up for failure. I don’t know anything about your job.”

“Hey, I don’t know anything about your job, either.”

“I’m playing a fictional character, so you don’t need to. Besides, I’ve never had a job, remember?”

“Didn’t you have a job where you pretended to be someone’s girlfriend?”

She groaned. “Not this again.”

“You know, after my second workout today, I went over to Brett’s house to hang for a bit.

He asked about you, and I told him I was hiring you to be my Jane tonight.

I mentioned you were an actress, and you said you’d done something like this before, but I didn’t know exactly what. When McKayla heard us talking, she—”

“Who’s McKayla?”

“She’s Brett’s girlfriend. So anyway, McKayla overheard us talking about you, and she had an idea about what you might’ve done in the past.”

“Oh? She did?” Olivia tried to play it cool, but I could see her body tensing up.

“The term she used was, ‘professional companion.’”

She fidgeted with her hair. “A what?”

“A professional companion.” I shot her a glance. “So … is it true?”

“I dunno, I’ve never heard that term before,” she said nervously. “W-what is it?”

I had an unsettling feeling in my stomach. Please don’t be true.

“I guess it’s another word for escort? Or like, a specific type of escort? I’m not exactly sure. McKayla owns Good Vibes Only, which is this sex store right next to Brett’s brewery. So she knows all about ‘sex work’ type stuff.”

“Oh.” Olivia let out a heavy breath, and the tension left her body. “No. I’m not an escort.”

“Ah.” With a grin, I quietly added, “Too bad.”

“ Too bad?! ” she shrieked. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“I mean, if you were an escort. Y’know. I might have to ask how much for a—”

She cut me off, her voice firm. “Dakota, don’t you dare say it.”

“Can you blame me?! You’re fuckin’ beautiful!” I laughed. “I called it, by the way.”

“Called what?”

“That you’d be drop-dead gorgeous.”

She tutted. “That’s not the way I remember it.”

“No?”

“No, because you also said I might be a bridge troll. You hedged your bet, so I wouldn’t say you ‘nailed’ it at all.”

“Nah, I nailed it,” I said with a wave of my hand. “The only reason I made that joke is because I was one hundred percent confident you were smoking hot. I could hear it in your voice.”

“Oh my God, Dakota,” she murmured, her palm meeting her forehead. “We’re almost to Summerlin, and I’ve learned basically nothing about you. Can we please talk about tonight and get our stories straight?”

“Sure. What do you want to know?”

“So you got caught in this video,” she said. “Where does that leave me? Do I know about it? Or am I in the dark?”

“Oh, you definitely know about it,” I said with a nervous laugh.

“So what does that make me? Your naive, doormat girlfriend who’s too stupid to leave your cheating ass?”

“Okay, maybe not a doormat as much as you are the understanding and trusting girlfriend, because I’ve been such a great boyfriend and you’ve got no reason to ever believe I’d treat you wrong.

Everyone else might think I cheated on you, but you trust me, your loving boyfriend, and you know I’d never stray. ”

She let out a cynical snicker. “Sure. Right.”

But when Olivia spoke a second later, her voice, her posture, her mannerisms—everything, even her facial expressions—instantly transformed into Jane.

“Does Dakota like to have fun? Of course! But he’s a good man. And he would never cheat. I know that in my heart.” Reaching over the center console, she placed her hand on my thigh. “In all our time together, Dakota has been nothing but loyal and loving with me.”

My heart began to race as her hand traveled up my inner thigh.

“W-what are you doing?” I stammered.

She sighed. “Pretending to be your girlfriend. Which will be really hard if you break character this easily.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

With one quick glance out her window, she reset and was transformed into Jane again.

“Dakota is so thoughtful and kind,” she purred.

“He’s always thinking of others. He’s generous and loyal, and he knows how to make people feel special.

Which is why people are so drawn to him; yes, including other women.

But I know how much he loves me, so I don’t worry when I see him with other girls. ”

Even though it was all an act, I almost felt proud of the man she was describing. I kinda wanted her to talk about me like that for real.

“Thanks, babe.” I placed my hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “That means a lot to me.”

“But when Dakota’s with me? He makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world, and nothing else matters but us.” She leaned closer, her breath hot against my ear. “He’s all mine. ”

Sucked into her performance by her sultry voice, a rush of desire began to stir between my legs.

“Whoa.” I made a T gesture with my hands. “Timeout.”

“Dakota! Seriously?!” She laughed and gave me a little whack on the shoulder. “Don’t break character! All you have to do is follow my lead!”

“Sorry, but c’mon,” I growled, a husky note in my voice. “You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Doing what?”

“You know. With that sexy voice you’re doing. And your hand on my leg.”

“What about it?”

“This is a slim-fit suit, Olivia.”

“And?” she asked, still failing to make the connection.

“And I’m running out of room in certain regions.”

She remained confused until she finally glanced down and saw my lap. Once she realized what I was telling her, her eyes quickly darted away, and she snatched her hand away from my thigh, too.

“Dakota! Oh my God! ” She squealed with laughter and her cheeks quickly turned pink. “I can’t believe you! I swear, you better not pitch a tent at dinner … ”

“I’ll try my best. But if you do that voice, I can’t make any promises.” I turned and gave her a grin. “I’m convinced now, by the way.”

“Convinced about what?”

“You’re definitely not an escort.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because no escort would blush this much over a boner,” I said and brushed my knuckles against her silky arm. “You’re so freakin’ cute. I love it.”

I was really starting to enjoy making Olivia laugh—I loved how her body shook with delight, and her face beamed and she just seemed so damn happy. Her laugh itself was the most heavenly sound I think I’d ever heard.

But her laughter tapered off when she noticed I exited the highway.

“Hey. Wait.” She sat up straighter. “We’re pretty far out west for Summerlin, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. The owner of my company, uh, has got a lot of money.”

“Where exactly does he live?”

Summerlin is one of the wealthiest suburbs of Las Vegas.

That’s where most of my teammates lived—or at least the settled-down guys, like Rust, Brett, Brock and Connor, and so on.

But The Ridges, sitting just west of Summerlin, is where the mega- rich lived.

We’re talking multi-million dollar mansions with stunning views of Red Rock Canyon.

“Get ready. You’re gonna love this.” I shot her a sneaky grin. “The Ridges.”

Speechless, Olivia’s jaw fell.

“ Wild , right?”

“Um. Yeah. Crazy,” she murmured.

She obviously wasn’t impressed.

“Are you secretly rich or something?” I asked jokingly.

She recoiled. “What? Why? Why would you ask me that?”

“Because I just told you my boss lives in The Ridges and you didn’t even blink.” I chuckled. “I’m kidding, of course. The Ridges is where the one percent live.”

“Oh … is that right …”

She seemed to be getting more and more uncomfortable as we neared Mr. Capuano’s house.

“You good?” I asked, and touched her knee. “Don’t freak. You’ll be fine.”

“Um, yeah …” she stammered, fidgeting with her hands. Olivia stared out the windshield, hyper-focused on the road ahead. With every turn we made, her despair seemed to grow.

She seemed flustered when Mr. Capuano’s palatial house came into sight, and downright morose when I stopped at the wrought iron security gate. After confirming my meeting with Mr. Capuano’s security, the mechanical gate opened.

“Jeez. Just look at this place,” I said as we drove up the quarter-mile-long driveway. “Hell, I bet the cost of paving this driveway is more than the average Joe’s house.”

The drive was lined with meticulously manicured shrubs, mesquite trees, and tall palm trees. I couldn’t fathom the size of the water bill just to keep all those plants alive in the desert.

Up ahead, the two-level mansion loomed before us, boasting a modern minimalist design. The sleek lines and geometric shapes of its boxy exterior were accentuated by enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, offering glimpses of the billionaire grandeur within.

“Just look at that monstrosity,” I said. “First thing I did when I got his address was look the place up on Zillow. Any guesses how much that behemoth costs?”

I waited for an answer, but Olivia didn’t say a word while I prattled away.

“Twenty million dollars. Twenty. Million. Holy fuck! Can you imagine living in a house like this? Or even better, growing up in a house like this? How spoiled could you be?”

We pulled to a stop outside the front entrance. I killed the engine and turned to her with a cocky smile. “So I should probably tell you what I do for a living now. Unless you wanna try to guess?”

She turned to me. “You’re a professional hockey player.”

“Wha’?” The smile fell from my face. Had she known all along? Was she playing me? “How long have you known that?”

“I figured it out just now,” she murmured.

“How the hell did you figure that out?”

She pointed at the incredible mansion outside my window. “Because this is Sal Capuano’s house. And he owns the Vegas Sin.”

“And how did you know that, Olivia?”

“Dakota, there’s something you should know.” She grabbed my hand and stared into my soul, her eyes big and urgent. “My name isn’t Olivia.”

I chuckled. “Right. My bad. I meant to say, ‘And how did you know that, Jane?’ ”

“No. Forget about Jane.” She shook her head. “My real name isn’t Olivia. It’s Ottavia.”

“Ottavia?” My eyes narrowed.

That name was familiar; I knew I’d heard it recently, but where?

Suddenly, my mind flashed back to that meeting a couple days ago in Killer’s office. Mr. Capuano’s got a daughter in college, I could hear Killer say. A sweet girl named Ottavia.

“No,” I murmured.

She nodded. “Ottavia Capuano.”

I stared at her, refusing to believe it. I was certain this was some kind of prank.

“No, you’re not,” I said, laughing. “Ottavia Capuano is Sal’s daughter.”

“Yes, and that’s me, ” she said, her voice rising urgently. “I’m his daughter.”

That was impossible. That … that couldn’t be …

She pointed at the front of the house, the glass double doors swinging open.

An imposing figure emerged from the mansion—Mr. Capuano himself.

He strutted with a swaggering demeanor that confirmed that all the rumors I’d heard about him were true.

His confident stride carried him down the front steps, exuding an intimidating air of authority.

“Hey, Dakota!” he yelled, waving at us to get out of the car.

“Dakota, do you understand what I’m telling you?” she asked, her voice rising urgently. “Sal Capuano is my father.”

“B-but …” I stammered.

Had Mr. Capuano played me? Was my lovely Olivia, no, Ottavia in on it? Was I about to get whacked?

I was about to fire the engine, drop the clutch and peel out—but Ottavia grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just follow my lead, okay?”

“Your lead? ”

What?!