I'll Say Anything Read online

  Once the women sashayed away and Ramsey and I had turned a different corner, Ramsey picked up the conversation again. “Sorry about that. Anyway, I wanted to apologize for Adrian. He's got a mouth on him and no amount of coercion will make him change.”

  Not expecting to hear that, I glanced aside to find Ramsey watching me. He wore an intent expression that enhanced his features. I said, “I won't pretend to like it, and to be honest with you—that's why you found me where you did. I wasn't lost, I was just trying to avoid him.”

  Ramsey's mouth pressed into an unhappy line. “I see.”

  “It's not a big deal. I expected to see him around.” Maybe not on my very first day, but sooner than later.

  “I had a talk with him last night, but I don't think it'll help anything.”

  “Why does he have it out for me, anyway?”

  “It's not that he has it out for you, exactly. You just happened to embarrass him at that charity event, so he's decided to take it out on you. Even though I explained that you had nothing to do with the planning of it. He might have singled you out anyway, just because you were in an outfit begging to be made fun of. Sometimes, he'll use any excuse to badger people.” Ramsey sounded and looked mildly annoyed.

  “I'll keep it in mind. Thanks for letting me know. I do have to say though—I'm only gonna put up with so much before I lay into him. I need and want this job, so I've tried to be diplomatic, but I've got my limits and he's pushing me to the edge.” I thought it only fair to warn Ramsey that Adrian wasn't the only one with a temper.

  “You won't get fired, even if he threatens you with it. Come to me and I'll take care of it.” Ramsey paused before a door leading into the main casino area and met my gaze. “How's Jasper?”

  I paused, too, breathing in the distinct cologne I was coming to recognize as his. “Fine. He's tough. A little bruised, like Adrian, but nothing he can't recover from.” Jasper had slept through breakfast and lunch. I suspected he did so to avoid me and my questions and so I wouldn't make him strip his shirt off to get a better idea of the damage. If he was still asleep when I got home, all bets were off. I intended to harass him until he got up.

  “I'm glad to hear it. Extend my apologies, will you?” Ramsey said.

  “Of course. Thanks.” I wondered if I imagined the gleam in Ramsey's eyes, or if it was a trick of the light. As every other time we were in range of each other, I experienced heat and sparks and my thoughts swerved toward non-pristine topics.

  “You on your way home?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I'm done for the day.”

  “Have a few hours to spare?”

  I licked my lips. “I'm not dressed real fancy, but I--”

  “Don't worry, you're dressed just fine. I'd like to change, though.”

  “No VIP clubs this time?” I joked.

  He smiled a devastating smile. “I have something different in mind. How about I pick you up out by the entrance in fifteen minutes?”

  “I'll be there.”

  Ramsey swayed my direction and for a heart stopping moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. My heart tripped in my chest, then evened out when he completed his turn and headed back the other direction down the hallway.

  Releasing a pent up breath, I exited onto the main floor and navigated the walkways toward the entrance. The roundabout route we took through the corridors spit me out in one of the adult sections of gambling, where the waiters and waitresses wore toga-like attire that left little to the imagination. The men's thighs flexed in full view, their chests on display. The top layer of material covering the women was just sheer enough to show the shadow of their breasts, the skirts short enough to risk showing the apex of their legs with every step.

  Thank God I hadn't applied for a waitressing job. I imagined the tips were excellent, however, considering the way many gamblers stared after the employees with hungry or considering gazes.

  It was a meat market, that's what it was. At least my uniform was concealing and somewhat classy.

  Five minutes later, I stood at the curb at the entrance, shaded by the breezeway overhead. The late afternoon sun glared down on the Vegas strip, glinting off parked car windows and forcing droves of tourists into the cooler interior of restaurants and casinos. I guessed the temperature to be a few degrees above one-hundred. Not as bad as it could get, but hot enough.

  Ramsey's Rolls eased into the breezeway after two limousines pulled away, and I got into the passenger's seat just as he started to get out to open my door. Dark slacks and a pull over shirt of blue replaced the gray suit. It wasn't jeans and a tee shirt, but much more casual than his previous attire.

  “I don't stand on ceremony too much,” I said, sinking into the seat and fastening my buckle. “But thanks.”

  “I can see that,” he said, sliding down into the driver's side again.

  “So, do I get to know the plans, yet?” I asked as he navigated the parking lot to a side street, wise enough to know better than to attempt driving on the Strip itself. Traffic snarls would delay us an hour or more on a good day.

  “I thought I would show you Vegas from a different perspective.”

  Immediately I imagined the High Roller, an enormous Ferris Wheel that allowed spectators to see for miles in all directions. I hadn't been on the ride yet, but heard praise from co-workers. “Sounds like fun.”

  Ramsey shot me a smile, then put his attention back on the road.

  After a few more turns, I knew we weren't going to the High Roller. Unless Ramsey was taking the scenic route. He hit a backroad leading away from the city, heading north, and picked up speed.

  Curious. It wasn't the High Roller after all.

  “Do you live out this way?” I asked.

  “No.”

  So we weren't going to his house for something he'd forgotten. The wind shuffled my ponytail back and forth across my shoulders as the Rolls flew down the highway. Quicker than I could believe, Ramsey slowed the car and turned onto a smaller lane leading to a white, two story building that looked as if it had taken up residence there for at least the last thirty years. In good shape I noticed, however, as we pulled into the parking lot and angled for the far side. Ramsey circled the building, coming out near a hangar where several small aircraft sat on the tarmac.

  Sucking in a breath, I glanced from the planes to Ramsey.

  He smiled, winked, then parked next to the hangar. “You coming?”

  “Of course! I shouldn't be surprised that you have access to a plane, but I am.” I got out when he did and followed Ramsey toward the aircraft. It was the kind with a propeller in the front and looked to seat perhaps four people, tops. Ramsey walked around to the passenger's side and helped me in. Of course I looked for a pilot—and that's when Ramsey circled the nose of the plane and climbed into the pilot's seat himself.

  “You fly?”

  “Yes. I've always been interested in aviation. Have you ever flown?” he asked as he buckled in and began pre-flight preparations.

  I glanced behind us at the luxury interior. Ivory leather seats complimented the midnight blue and white exterior, the space more roomy than I thought it might be from the outside. “I've flown on commercial planes, never something this small,” I admitted.

  “You're in for a treat.” After drawing on a headset, he indicated I do the same. Sliding on a pair of dark glasses, he started the engine and, after several more adjustments, slowly turned the plane toward the runway. He communicated with traffic control and got clearance for take off.

  I couldn't help but grip the edges of my seat as the aircraft picked up speed, tearing down the runway. Lined with lights, the runway extended a long distance toward the desert, plenty of room, I thought, for take off and landing.

  The plane lifted into the air and began a steady ascent. This late in the afternoon, with the dying rays of the sun slanting across the desert, a beautiful tableau opened up toward the horizon.

  “Oh, look at that,” I said in a reverent voice.

>   “Pretty, isn't it?” Ramsey said, taking the aircraft into a slow turn.

  “Stunning. You can see so much from up here.”

  “It's a little more personal than commercial flights, where the ground looks like patchwork or a lit-up grid from thirty-thousand feet.”

  Peering out the window, amazed and strangely breathless, I picked out points of interest across the landscape. Red Rock Canyon, Charleston Peak and, as Ramsey continued to make his subtle turn in the sky, I got my first glimpse of Vegas at dusk. The flash and throb of millions of lights took my breath away all over again. We were low enough that I could pick out certain notable landmarks, such as the faux Eiffel tower and the waterways of the Venetian. I saw the High Roller and couldn't help thinking this view beat that one by a hundred miles.

  “This must really be something at night,” I said.

  “You'll see in a little while. Once dusk hits, it's not long before nightfall takes over.” Ramsey concentrated on flying the plane rather than glancing at me.

  In the distance I could see pinpoint lights in the sky, bigger planes en route to McCarran, the main airport in Vegas. Ramsey seemed to have no trouble with navigation. The more we flew, the less nervous I was. As we started to leave Vegas behind, I looked across the seat to Ramsey. “Where are we going?”

  “You'll see.” He met my eyes, a smile in his own, then focused ahead.

  Lake Mead sprawled across the desert, the glittering blue water offset by an orange cast put there by the sinking sun. Not long after, I sat forward as far as my restraint would allow as the Grand Canyon came into view.

  “Oh wow. This is so different than standing on the edge, which is also crazy awesome. It looks so much bigger from up here,” I said, in awe of the gutted passageways water had created in the earth.

  “It's the best. One of my favorite places to fly over.”

  I scrambled for my phone and snapped off pictures. Who knew when an opportunity like this would come again. I couldn't drag my eyes off the impressive, awe-inspiring landscape, mesmerized by the size and scope of the canyon.

  As Ramsey flew over, then slowly began to circle back toward Vegas, the horizon swallowed half the sun, taking a good portion of available light with it.

  “It seems like the sun is going down so fast,” I said, giving the canyon a last glance. Soon, the now brighter lights of Vegas came back into view. How different it looked from when we took off. Like a sparkling jewel, the city glowed in the darkening terrain. Speechless, I took more pictures as Ramsey made broad circles around Vegas, giving me a birds-eye viewpoint from different angles. Darkness settled in by degrees, until there was nothing but the glitz of the Strip and shadowy terrain for miles in all directions.

  Ramsey headed back to the airport and landed with smooth expertise despite the lack of sunlight. Impressed with how little he jostled the plane as the tires touched the tarmac, I shot a smile sidelong. He smiled too despite his concentration, as if he'd picked up my expression in periphery.

  “I don't even have words. This was excellent. I loved it.” I thought I might never stop gushing.

  “I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. It's interesting to see different reactions to Vegas from the air. I'll take you up any time you'd like.”

  “Wow, what a kind offer. I might take you up on that.” My first instinct was to show Jasper what Ramsey had shown me. Jasper would enjoy the view every bit as much as I did.

  “Anytime,” Ramsey repeated, voice low and intimate.

  After taxiing back toward the hangar, he brought the plane to a halt with plenty of room between the aircraft and the building, then started the process of shutting the plane down.

  I hadn't ever seen so many switches, knobs and gadgets in my life. “How do you keep up with it all?”

  “A lot of practice and hours upon hours of training.” Ramsey laid his hands on his thighs and looked across the seats, meeting my eyes.

  Lights attached to the building chased the darkness back just enough so I didn't have to squint to make out Ramsey's features. In a quiet, contemplative voice I said, “Thanks again. I had a good time.”

  Ramsey draped one arm across the back of the seats, opening up his posture invitingly. “You're welcome. Maybe one day we can take a longer trip.”

  “Like where?” I asked, glancing from his eyes to his mouth.

  “Anywhere you want.”

  If Ramsey only knew what I really wanted. Right then, I just wanted to feel his mouth on mine. Knowing he was my boss had no impact on the surge of desire I felt whenever I was around him. Perhaps he read the look in my eyes, and perhaps he had the same idea, because he slowly leaned across the small space between the seats and covered my lips with his. I threaded a hand through his silky hair, grazing my nails across his scalp. He tasted as good as I thought he would, and proved to be a good kisser. The languid exploration of his tongue heated my blood until I deepened the kiss, a spike of lust shooting through my system when Ramsey groaned.

  Maybe once I'd had him, the want and desire would fade. The mystery would be over and I could concentrate on my job and saving money for the shop. Ramsey broke the kiss a few moments later and whispered against my mouth.

  “Come on.”

  I didn't balk or hesitate. When he disembarked the plane I did the same, coming around the nose of the aircraft to take the hand he offered on the way to his car. It felt normal and natural to walk with him this way; usually I shunned the thought of hand holding and had discouraged it with the one—and only—boyfriend I'd had in high school.

  My thoughts turned briefly to Jasper. I wondered how his wounds were healing and whether he was still in pain.

  What an odd time to have a focus shift. And it might be awkward if I paused to send a text or make a call. There was a perfect sexual tension between Ramsey and I that I didn't want to break.

  Inside the Rolls, Ramsey wasted no time getting on the road back toward town. He rubbed my thigh over the jeans, giving the muscle a squeeze. Reciprocating, I leaned across the seats, the safety belt straining against by torso, to nuzzle the warm skin of his throat. He smelled as good as he tasted.

  Ramsey skirted the center of town, once again choosing back roads and lighter traveled thoroughfares toward the opposite end of the Strip. Jasper and I lived that direction, but I had no worries Ramsey had looked up my employee information and was taking me home. He had something else in mind and for that I was grateful. It wasn't like I could tell Jasper to get out and find somewhere else to go for a few hours.

  At a red light, my cell phone went off. A few notes from Eddie's band alerted me that the call was from Jasper. Relieved despite the mood shift the call might bring, I tugged the phone out of my pocket, leaned back into my own seat and said, “Hey, what's up?”

  Ramsey gave me a quick, speculative glance before moving with traffic once the light turned green.

  “Fins, where are you? You're late getting home from work,” Jasper said in a groggy voice.

  “Yeah, I've got plans tonight. How are you feeling?” I asked, genuinely concerned about his well being. He might have avoided me this morning, but that didn't mean I harbored any frustration or annoyance all these hours later.

  “Rough. Can you stop and pick me up something for pain? Whatever you can get your hands on is fine.”

  “I take it you didn't go to work.”

  “No, I called out.”

  “Yeah, no problem. I'll be there shortly.” There wasn't any way in hell that I would turn down Jasper's request. The damage from the fight with Adrian must be hurting him worse than I thought. When I glanced aside to Ramsey, I noticed the cautious expression lingering on his features. I said, “I'm sorry, but Jasper needs something for pain. Can you drop me at the next corner?”

  “Is he okay?” Ramsey asked, concern replacing the caution. “I can drive you to the store or the pharmacy or whatever you need, and then home. You'll get there quicker.”

  Once again, all I could think of was Ramsey's reaction
when he saw where I lived. “That's okay. Really. We don't live far from here anyway. Right up at this next light would be perfect.” Any thoughts of sex and lust dissipated as if it had never been. It was a shame, I told myself, but necessary.

  “Is he your boyfriend?” Ramsey asked as he pulled to the curb just beyond the next light.

  “No, not at all. We've been best friends since childhood. He needs me right now and I don't want to say no. He must be more hurt from the fight than I realized.” I put my hand on the door handle, studying Ramsey's eyes. His hair, ruffled from the wind, gave him a charming yet rakish look.

  “If you need anything at all, let me know. A friend of my father's is a doctor at the hospital and can get him checked out if he needs it.” Ramsey draped a hand over the top of the steering wheel.

  “I appreciate it, really I do. Thanks, Ramsey. And thanks again for taking me up in the plane. It was an experience I'll never forget.” I didn't know whether I should lean over and kiss him goodbye after the earlier kiss we'd shared or just get out of the car. These kinds of awkward situations were exactly what I usually tried to avoid.

  “It's never a problem, Finley. Maybe see you tomorrow at work?” he asked.

  “Yeah, sure. I finish training at nine tomorrow night.” Opening the door, I got out and closed it behind me. Standing on the curb with my hand resting on the top of the door, I added, “I'll see you then.”

  “Yes, you will. Goodnight.” Ramsey waited until I stepped back from the coupe to drive away.

  Watching the taillights, I exhaled a slow breath. If Jasper hadn't called, Ramsey and I would have ended up in bed. Or somewhere equivalent. I hoped it didn't change the dynamic between Ramsey and I too much. Hoped he didn't expect more from me than a casual interlude. This 'meeting up' after work could become a habit if I wasn't careful, and as attracted to Ramsey as I was, I couldn't allow it to be an every day thing.