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his. “Please, sit.”
    Mr. Fujikara introduced his friends as I took my seat. I nodded to each in turn. I noticed they were well into a second bottle of wine. “Are you enjoying yourselves?”
    A smile spread across Mr. Fujikara’s face. “The suite is magnificent! From the balcony we can see all the way up the Strip. And the service has been impeccable.”
    I reached over and touched his knee, then leaned into him. “I’m so glad you’re satisfied.” I turned toward Mr. Fujikara’s friends. “Mr. Fujikara is a very important guest of ours . . . of mine.” I gave him a smile and squeezed his arm. “And you like the wine?”
    “It is sublime.” He beamed. “But I think now your presence calls for a bottle of champagne.” His eyes twinkled. “What do you think? Perhaps a nice bottle of Dom Perignon?”
    I smothered a smile. Mr. Fujikara was going to play this for all it was worth. I thought for a moment. The insurance deductible and the value of lost rental time on the Ferrari would run six or seven grand, so I could afford to give him a couple of bottles of four-hundred-dollar wine, a five-hundred-dollar bottle of bubbly, and a bit of attention. “Of course! Perhaps the ’95?”
    “Splendid!”
    I motioned to the waitress hovering nearby. “Kimmy, a bottle of the 1995 Dom Perignon, please, and four glasses.”
    “You’re not going to celebrate with us?” asked one of Mr. Fujikara’s friends.
    “Unfortunately, my workday isn’t over.” I sighed dramatically. “It’s been a very long day, and I still must see to the Ferrari.”
    Mr. Fujikara’s smile disappeared. A look of concern replaced it.“Yes, the car. So silly of the valet to injure such a fine piece of machinery.”
    I nodded.
    “I had driven it to Carne, the steakhouse on Charleston Boulevard. I’m sure it was fine when I brought it back.”
    “I
am
sorry,” I said with as much sympathy as I could muster.
    “Will your Boss be angry?”
    “Most likely.”
    “Will he be angry at you?”
    “He does hold me accountable for these sorts of transgressions.” We both knew it was a lie, but that was part of the game.
    Mr. Fujikara puffed out his chest in indignation. “Well, we can’t have that. I will pay for the car!” We both knew he was only agreeing to pay the few grand of the deductible, a paltry sum in his world, but his friends probably didn’t know that.
    “Oh, Mr. Fujikara! Do you mean it?” I reached over and grabbed his hand in both of mine. “What a kind and generous man you are!”
    Mr. Fujikara beamed. His friends looked suitably impressed.
    “Mr. Fujikara, you are indeed one of my favorites!” I leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek.
    “Now, now. It is but a small thing,” he stammered.
    I rose as Kimmy arrived with the champagne. “Gentlemen, enjoy.” I smiled and bowed at Mr. Fujikara. “I’ll look forward to seeing you soon. Perhaps dinner this week sometime?” I thought I caught a wink as he nodded in return.
    Waving Kimmy away, he turned to his friends and proffered the bottle of champagne. “Let’s drink!” He popped the cork and began to pour.
    They all stood and bowed as I took my leave. It was very awkward, all this bowing—I’d never gotten used to it. Finally, I turned and tottered toward the steps. I almost made it to the casino floor. On the next to the last step, my ankle twisted. I yelped and grabbed for the rail, which slipped by just out of reach. I started to fall. Out of nowhere, a pair of strong hands grabbed me.
    “Whoa. Steady there.”
    I looked up into the twinkling eyes of Paxton Dane. Eyes that took in my cleavage, and my fuck-me shoes.
    “Very nice,” he said as he easily set me right. “And well played.” He cocked his head in the direction of Mr. Fujikara, who, thankfully, was out of earshot. “Would you like to practice on me sometime?”
    Intensely aware of the warmth of his hands on my bare arms, my heart tripped.
What
is
it with my taste in men?
Regaining my