I'll Say Anything Read online

  Attention torn from the photo, I slid the phone away and refastened my seat belt, watching Jasper's face. I knew he was talking about Ramsey, not Eddie. “It was just a casual thing. Since he gave me the job, I quit the souvenir shop and had a couple extra hours to spare before meeting up with you.”

  “Are you two going out again?” Jasper slowed the Camaro and turned left. The dark desert sprawled in all directions, the lights of the Strip glowing like a beacon in the distance.

  “I wouldn't call it 'going out'. And probably not. I mean, I won't lie. I think he's attractive.” I could tell Jasper these kinds of things. He never passed judgement or ridiculed me for my aversion to commitment.

  “I'm just surprised, is all. You don't usually go for that type.” Jasper slowed the Camaro after a half mile and pulled onto a long, dirt driveway.

  “Well, you know. Ramsey's a pretty cool guy. I wouldn't mind a one night stand with him.”

  “Hey, as long as he doesn't treat you like that ass Adrian did.” Jasper made a slicing gesture with one hand.

  Ahead, landscape lights shined up on a squat, square structure that reminded me of a large mud house. While I tried to figure out how and why this place tied into my birthday present, I glanced sideways at Jasper. “Ramsey's not like that. He wouldn't ever say such rude, nasty things.”

  “If he does, you let me know.”

  Jasper was really bent out of shape over Adrian. “He won't, but I'll let you know.”

  Pulling the car around the side of the house, Jasper cut the lights and slowed to a stop. I could see other buildings and some kind of fencing beyond the square homestead, but other than that, nothing. It was too dark to make out details.

  “Where are we?”

  “Come on. You'll see.”

  I followed Jasper out of the car. We met at the front and headed toward the back of the house. Not the door, I noticed, but toward the out buildings and the broad fences.

  A sound rose above the rustle of arid desert wind. It reminded me of a rumbling purr.

  Taking a dirt path toward a medium sized building built the same as the main house, Jasper grasped the handle of a door that looked better suited to be on a vault than a mud structure. He met my eyes and said, “Happy birthday, Fins.”

  My confusion reached a peak—and then faded as we stepped inside. From darkness to light, the interior of the building, with its white walls and concrete walkways, housed large cages that reminded me of what I would see at a dog pound. At first I thought Jasper had brought me to pick out a pet—which we had both agreed that we wouldn't get until we were better settled—and then my gaze landed on a large dirt area at the back. An area without cages, just the walls and toys littered haphazardly around. It wasn't puppies that lazed or frolicked near a man sitting on the ground, but lion cubs.

  My mouth fell open. “What...”

  Jasper herded me down the walk, between the cages, toward the man sitting in the center of the enclosed 'yard'. Murmuring, Jasper said, “It helps to have the right connections in this town.”

  “Jasper, hello,” the man said, grinning ear to ear as a cub rolled around on his lap. His slight east Indian accent gave at least part of his heritage away, along with his darker skin and dark eyes.

  “Hey there Jay. Thanks for waiting,” Jasper said, strolling from concrete to dirt. “This is the birthday girl, Finley. Fin, this is Jay.”

  Several of the cubs tottered over, curious and ready to paw at our boots and legs. I about died from cuteness overload. “Nice to meet you, Jay.”

  “You too, Finley. Come, sit down or pull up a hay bale.” Jay gestured to several bales situated around the dirt area.

  I chose the dirt. Not afraid to get messy, I sat down, immediately set upon by one of the cubs. Laughing, I gently petted its head, the fur down its back. To say I was absorbed and fascinated was a massive understatement.

  “Where did you get these?” I asked, counting four cubs total. Three seemed of a similar age, and one looked a bit older.

  “Hey, buddy,” Jasper said, crouching to pick one of the cubs up.

  “This is a wild animal sanctuary. We take in animals that people get and can no longer care for. These three cubs are from a mother that was sick and underfed when we found her. She didn't make it, unfortunately, so we're caring for the cubs until they can be transferred to a haven in Africa,” Sanjay said. “The other came from a man who lost his job here in Vegas and couldn't afford to feed it any longer.”

  Amazed and instantly in love with the cubs, I crooned and cooed and made all sorts of adoring noises. “They're adorable. So precious. What other kinds of animals do you have here? Or is it just lions?”

  “No, no. We have a bit of everything. Tigers, a few cougars, several species of snakes, llamas, monkeys and an aviary with falcons, parrots and many other smaller birds that we get when the animal shelter overflows. We have horses, pigs and two antelope, as well.”

  “So a real menagerie. Will you find new homes for them all?” I hated to think any of the cubs and other exotic animals would have to be put down because there was no where else for them to go. I knew reintroduction into the wild wasn't always a possibility.

  “Yes. We always try to get them back into their native territory, but if that's not an option, we find good homes that are skilled in caring for the more unusual of the bunch.”

  Laughing when the cub in my arms licked my chin and put a paw on my cheek, I glanced across at Jasper to find him watching me with a fond expression.

  “This is the best birthday present ever,” I said, and meant it.

  “I know,” Jasper retorted with a lift of his chin.

  We spent the next half hour playing with the cubs. Due to the late hour and the darkness, we didn't venture beyond the walls of the structure to see the holding areas for other animals. Jay assured me that the cubs we played with had their own enclosure with plenty of room to roam and grow.

  At the end, I found it hard to say goodbye. Jay snapped several photos of me with the cubs, and of Jasper, me and the cubs. It was a birthday memory I wouldn't soon forget. Watchful of our money, Jasper had found something off the beaten path, away from the limelight, to dazzle me with. And it hadn't cost a dime. He'd used his connections from work, most likely, to find us something different to do.

  Saying farewell to the cubs and Jay, we got on the road for town. I couldn't quit talking about the experience, chattering the entire drive home.

  It wasn't until we entered the tiny apartment that I finally remembered the visitors from earlier. Heading to the small fridge in what passed for a kitchenette, I pulled out two bottles of water and tossed one to Jasper. I kept the other, took several swigs, and said, “By the way. You had a couple visitors today. They told me to tell ya that Parker Brooks is looking forward to your meeting. Did you apply for another job or something?”

  Jasper paused with the bottle tipped up, eyes cutting over to my face. The overhead lights illuminated the bruises, scrapes and split lip, lending him a rakish, slightly wild air. His body had gone tense and tight, as if hearing the name Parker Brooks upset him.

  “What?” I asked, flopping down into one of the red kitchen chairs. I propped my booted feet at an angle across the corner of the table, heels hanging off the edge.

  “What did they say, exactly?” Jasper asked.

  I had another drink, trying to suss out Jasper's sudden mood change. He raked back his wayward bangs and paced a small circle in the area next to the table. In that moment, the walls of the apartment seemed too confining to contain him. I had the impression that he might storm back outside just to have more space to walk.

  “They asked if you were here. I told 'em you weren't. Then they gave me that message. What's up?” I set the bottle on my thigh. Condensation dripped onto the denim and chilled the skin beneath.

  Jasper stalked over and surprised me by dropping a kiss on the top of my head. He set his bottle on the table and walked right out of the apartment without a word.


  Chapter Seven

  Stunned, I sat there, listening to the Camaro tear off down the alley. What the hell? I didn't even have a car to follow him. Dropping my feet to the floor, I stood up and went to the single window in the living room. I had a view of the dark side street. Jasper was already gone.

  Taking my phone out of my pocket, I shot off a text.

  What are you doing?

  No response. I waited ten minutes, too, so that he could pull over to text back.

  Jasper, what's going on? Call me. I'm worried.

  An hour after that, still no call. No return text. Even if I left the apartment, I wouldn't know the first place to start looking. Parker Brooks's men hadn't been exactly forthcoming with information.

  For the next three hours, I alternated between pacing the apartment and sending text after text. My philosophy was that if he wouldn't return my call on his own, I'd antagonize him into texting me back, at least.

  Nothing.

  Exasperated, I stole a pair of his pajamas and one of his tee shirts and after changing, flopped into bed. I switched off the bedside lamp, dousing the room into tomb-like darkness. Tossing and turning, I struggled to find sleep. Jasper often worked late hours so I wasn't unused to falling asleep and waking up at some ungodly hour when he crawled over me to 'his side' of the bed. I liked the outside instead of being trapped against the wall.

  Coming awake with a start some time later, I peered into the darkness of the bedroom, trying to discern what had woken me. Jasper wasn't in bed beside me, so it hadn't been him climbing across the mattress. It was something, though. A noise, a scrape, a feeling. Then, I knew.

  Someone was in the house.

  Reaching under the bed, I pulled out my trusty aluminum bat and eased to my feet. Gripping the handle with both hands, I crept toward the door. Ready to do battle, I rounded into the living area. I wasn't expecting to see a looming shape right there, almost touching me, before I had gone one full step. Grunting, I swung the bat—hard. Hard and fast with the intent to do serious damage.

  Someone might have broken in, but I wasn't going down without a fight.

  “Finley! Dammit.”

  The bat bounced off Jasper's shoulder even as he tried to swerve out of the way. That was the only thing that saved the hit from being much worse than it was.

  “...what are you doin', creeping around the apartment?” I demanded, angry with that much adrenaline and will to fight in my system.

  “I live here!” he shouted.

  “You could have warned me! Why didn't you text me back, or answer the phone? You might have been in an accident for all I knew!” I stepped away, intending to turn the light on. The single window in the living room provided only enough illumination to make out the shape of the loveseats, kitchen table and Jasper's shadowy body. Jasper caught me by the elbow, a gentle but firm hold that halted my progress. I glanced up at his face, surprised.

  “Don't,” he said in a whisper.

  “But I want to know what's going on, and I don't want to sit in the dark and talk--”

  “Don't,” he repeated.

  I leaned toward him, closer. And closer still. I detected the darker color of the bruises on his face from the fight with Adrian but before I could try to peer into his eyes, he let go and turned away. He disappeared into the bedroom.

  “Jasper, what is going on?” It wasn't like him to shut me out, and I didn't like it. We shared everything. From bad days at work to our latest conquest to our deepest emotions about love, sex and everything in between. He knew me like no one else. And I knew enough about Jasper to understand that there was something wrong. Something he wasn't telling me.

  “Just leave it alone, Fins. I'm tired.” He toed off his boots, shucked his pants but not his boxers, and went to bed in the tee shirt.

  Following, stubborn and determined, I set a knee into the mattress and settled onto a hip. This allowed me to peer down at him without invading his space too much.

  “It has to do with those guys that showed up here today, I know. Because you left right after I told you. What happened?” Persistence was one of my traits—or faults, depending who you asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “I know better than that. Just tell me. Was it a job? Friends of a friend?”

  “I don't want to talk about it. We need to sleep. You've got your training tomorrow and I've got...work.”

  I didn't understand the hesitation. Yes, I started my training tomorrow and yes, Jasper usually had work. He sounded doubtful, which led me to think something entirely different. “Were those men from your work?”

  “No, Fin.”

  I exhaled in frustration. “Jasper, we don't keep secrets from each other. Tell me what's going on.”

  Nothing. Dead silence.

  Stymied by his own stubbornness, I swiveled my hips around, accidentally bumping his ribs with my knee.

  He gasped and arched away, one hand flying to his mid-section.

  “What's going—never mind.” Instead of lying down, I switched on the lamp. Light fell over the bed, highlighting Jasper's face, chest and part of a thigh. Although he already had bruises from the fight with Adrian, it was easy to see that he had more now. And uglier than when he'd left the apartment hours ago.

  “Jasper, did you get into another fight?” Reaching over, I plucked up the hem of his shirt and drew in a breath. His ribs were discolored and obviously sore by the way he rolled away from me and yanked the tee shirt down.

  “Just leave it alone, Finley!”

  “I won't leave it alone. What's more, you know I won't, so save your breath.” Disturbed by both his refusal to tell me what was wrong and his attempt to shut me out, I got out of bed and went to the kitchen for ice. Raiding one of two ice trays, I dumped half into a zippered baggie, sealed it shut, and retreated to the bedroom. Crawling onto the mattress, I plunked the baggie of ice on his hip within easy reach. It was also retribution for the way he closed himself off.

  Grunting, he snatched the ice bag off his boxers, shot me a glare over his shoulder, then pressed the bag against his jaw instead of his ribs. “Go to sleep, Fin.”

  “I'll go to sleep when I'm good and ready.” He knew better than to order me around. Jasper said nothing more.

  I sat with my legs folded beneath me while he moved the bag from his jaw to his head, then to his ribs. Vigilant for an hour, I made sure there was nothing more he needed, or that he wouldn't suddenly start spitting up blood from a wound we couldn't see.

  Finally, in the wee hours of the night, when I thought he'd fallen asleep, I laid down and stretched out. The situation kept me awake for another hour. The last thing I heard was the familiar, comforting sound of his deep and even breathing.

  *

  Training went a lot like I expected it to. I finished signing my employee papers, picked out a uniform consisting of my choice between black pants or a black skirt and white tuxedo shirt with silver trim. I chose the pants, of course, because me and skirts don't get along. Pleased that I wouldn't be flashing everything to everyone just to make a paycheck, I learned the basic ropes of being an Usher at Olympus. My trainer was nice enough, to the point, and full of praise when I did things right.

  Three hours later, I hit the staff quarters to change into street clothes and gather my things from my locker: phone, money and keys. Departing the locker room, I headed down the hallway toward the exit. There were many hallways out of the public eye, used by the maids and kitchen staff as well as security. Performers also used these corridors, some deigning to acknowledge me with a vague smile and a tip of the head, while others flatly ignored me like I didn't exist. Five women in scanty outfits made of draping rhinestones, ostrich feathers and high heels strolled past without glancing my way. They batted their inch and a half, rhinestone dotted eyelashes and swirled their glittered hands through the air while discussing their latest show.

  Shuddering, happy to be invisible to the clearly better-than-me showgirls, I turned the corner in
to the last hallway and abruptly came to a stop. At the end stood Adrian, talking with three other men in suits.

  Pivoting on a heel, I went back the way I came, seeking another exit point. The last person I wanted to run into was Adrian. Even from that distance, I'd glimpsed a few splotches on his face from the altercation with Jasper and a welling bruise on his jawline.

  Jasper had given as good as he'd gotten.

  Taking the next two turns, I wound up in the dancers area. There were two holding rooms replete with lighted mirrors, scads of costumes on racks and make up for miles. Girly and frilly didn't come close to describing the glut of feminine paraphernalia scattered around. I passed by each large room after a quick glance inside to search for alternate exits.

  “Finley, I didn't expect to find you here,” Ramsey said behind me.

  Freezing in place, I turned around, a sheepish smile on my face. Of course I'd run into him here. That was the kind of luck I had lately.

  “Hey, Ramsey. Yeah, I'm a little lost, I guess,” I said, not wanting to admit that I'd chosen to go this way to avoid a confrontation with Adrian.

  “I can show you the way out. How did your training go?”

  Falling into step beside Ramsey, noting how well the steel gray suit and dark blue tie went with his complexion, I said, “It went well. I think I'll do just fine.”

  “Good, excellent. Listen, I wanted--” Before Ramsey could get any further, a stream of lovely showgirls filed out of a doorway ahead, their bodies covered in the familiar swirls of rhinestones, feathers and elaborate head pieces with jewels draped across their foreheads.

  “Hiiii, Mister Cassano,” the ladies cooed, winking their fake lashes at him. A few teasingly dragged their fingertips along his arm or his shoulder as they passed.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” Ramsey said with a cordial smile. He didn't stop walking.

  I almost snorted at the distinct way the women completely ignored me. Talk about single minded. Then again, I was in ratty jeans and a Conspiracy Rebellion tee shirt, along with my favorite pair of worn out Doc Martens. I was the anti-thesis of pretty and feminine, with my hair pulled back into a ponytail and make-up free face. There wasn't one rhinestone in sight.