High Roller
Edward Cullen owns the best Casino and Hotel on the Vegas strip. Once he thought he had it all but was robbed of both money and his girl. Years later, Edward meets Bella Swan and can not help to think if history will repeat itself.
Stephanie Meyers owns Characters.
She was walking through the casino, her skirt stretching with her broad strides, her heels clicking on the buffed marble.
The lights were dim and romantic, there was incense burning in the corner, and the walls were draped in a semi-transparent silk. A gilded clipboard was clutched to her side, and the well cut black suit moved with her as she strode to the double carved doors at the end of the hallway.
"Jacob – the lighting needs to be raised slightly, I'd like to see more white instead of yellow right now," she requested, brushing in through the doors and directing her head to a man in black who stood next to artfully hidden control panels.
As he moved instantly to accommodate her, she stopped and took in the ballroom. Chandeliers made of mango, pink and green roses hung lusciously over tables draped in raw silks and satin.
Chairs of oak were draped with garlands of flowers, and centerpieces of towering candles in shades of green were getting lit. The scent of roses was mingled with delectable smells of the kitchen – curried salmon, roasted lobster and filet with garlic – she could tell that the appetizers were nearly ready for the guests.
"Bella, the ceremony is finished and went well?" Her assistant Angela was at her elbow, her earpiece securely in place as she handed Bella one also; she confirmed that it was on the correct frequency. "Everything here is also ready to go."
"Yes, it's perfect. The guests will be arriving within the next half hour." Her perfectly manicured hands waved over the reception. "It looks marvelous."
Her assistant bobbed her head in pleasure and scurried off to another last minute detail. Bella shook her head and glanced at her checklist.
Another event nearly completed. This one by far her most extravagant, and in one of Edward Cullen's lavish casinos to boot. Her mind wandered to how she could capitalize on the efficiency and magnitude of this event on her website. Business always needed self promotion. Half the time she pushed brides for a certain look was to see a personal preference come to fruition.
A stir in the back of the room made her turn, and immediately melt into the background. The guests had arrived, and the bride and groom would be following shortly. She smiled tightly and happily. It was the best part of the day, to see the ecstatic couple walk into a fairyland of beauty that matched their style – she lived for their moment of exclamations and excitement. Somehow it always made the hours of hard work worth the effort.
"Bella! Oh Bella, it's magnificent!" The bride was suddenly there, radiant in her heavily beaded designer gown – her second costume change for the evening.
She was flushed with excitement and champagne, and her tight lipped new husband was at her side.
"Bella, I have to admit, I had no idea how it would all come together. This is amazing."
His words were for her, but his eyes were on his bride as he slipped an arm around her waist.
She nodded and smiled and murmured soothing words of thanks as she guided them back towards their guests. Her assistant waved quickly and gave a wink across the ballroom.
They all knew that this was the perfect moment of the evening.
It was two am. In the lobby of the plushest hotel on the strip, Bella kicked off her heels and breathed deeply, unabashedly massaging the balls of her feet, her shoulders finally relaxing, and her earpiece laying discarded on the seat beside her.
Angela had gone home, the bride and groom were up in their suite, and the night staff was cleaning up the last remnants of the dance and drinking.
A wedding well finished. She felt satisfied and proud, though there could always have been something better, something done smoother...
"I have to say my ballroom was the best its ever looked tonight."
The voice floated above her, and she felt as though the world shifted slightly – was she dreaming? Surreal – who would care what the ballroom looked like at this hour?
With a shake, she stood, grabbing her I Phone automatically, and found herself face to face with a slightly familiar man.
Discretely behind him stood two men who looked suspiciously like security guards. He was looking at her with interest, but with a detached air, as though she was a nice distraction – that she should be honored he stopped to talk to her.
"I'm very happy to hear you liked it; it was a beautiful evening. The clients were pleased. The casino was very accommodating to my requests." She said, unconsciously slipping back into her heels, which brought her face to equal his.
"I'll admit, I was not excited about all the changes you made to the room, it required a lot of extra work from my staff."
Suddenly it clicked. She was talking with Edward Cullen, the owner of the casino. Her heart rate dropped, then sped up tremendously.
Their surroundings suddenly seemed too open – she longed for privacy, to relish these moments and his praise – his approval could garner her so many more high-end clients.
"But it was well worth the effort," she responded, meeting his eyes, striving to be the businesswoman. "And also your staff was compensated for the extra time."
He waved aside their wages, and then made a slight gesture with his decorative cane. "Will you have dinner?
"At two in the morning?" she asked, still slightly shocked at the eccentricities of Vegas.
"Well, then, a drink?" his eyes were discreetly sweeping her up and down. Pushing off her fatigue, Bella nodded. Now was not the time to beg for a rain check, not when she could perhaps get his quote on her website, or a testimonial on official stationary...
"A drink would be lovely," she admitted. He waved his hand and she gathered her bag to follow him; unexpectedly he put a hand first on the small of her back, then her elbow, and moved her in the direction of the high roller bar; more private and virtually empty at this hour.
At his touch, she felt delicious excitement pooled in her loins. He might be older, and insanely rich, but for the first time in five years, she felt her body stir at the touch of another man.
A man who, most probably, had his pick of women and was surely not going to pick a work-a-holic, slightly faded version of femininity. Bella focused on business, without extreme success.
The two bodyguards fell back instinctively as they walked into the plush lounge of the Eclipse, and with a barely discernable nod, a smooth waiter ushered them into a fashionable booth.
The lighting was black and red; small candles shimmered low on the table, and she took in the rich fabrics and the heavy brocade on the seats, the sheen of raw silk on the walls. She couldn't help but run a hand appreciatively over the suede seat as she slid across from him.
"The usual," he said casually, softly, to the waiter, then looked calmly at her.
"Scotch. Neat – anything you've got that's over eighteen years old. Thanks." She smiled a vague but friendly smile that had slowly built her the small franchise that was now operating occasionally in Vegas. The waiter checked at her smile; appreciation seemed to be so rare in this city.
When she looked back at Edward Cullen, he was appraising her with the same detached suaveness, but a quirk of the eyebrow showed he was at least slightly impressed with her drink of choice.
His buatiful hair was slightly mused, his suit impeccably fitted, and his scent wafted over to her; deep, musky, manly.
She felt flustered, nervous and out of routine, and assumed it showed a bit. She was used to finishing a job and unwinding – to stay on task was taxing.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked, his voice low and chocolaty, a hint of a Italian accent flavoring his vowels with a rough edge to it all.
"I do, Mr. Cullen," she nodded. "I appreciate the time to chat with you – I am certain you're a very busy man."
He waved his hand again, his emerald eyes trained on hers. "As you said before, it is two in the morning. There is not much to do with the business right now."
There was a tiny lull, and she pulled her case onto her lap. "I should give you one of my cards, should you ever need anything. I'm –."
"Isabella Swan, yes I know," he finished, but took the proffered card, barely glancing at the gilded name before it disappeared within a coat pocket with the flick of a wrist.
A glimmer of a Rolex gleamed in the candlelight as he brought his hands back to the table. Everything about him was intimidating.
"Pardon the interruption, Mr. Cullen. Your drinks." Their waiter was extra attentive, serving them with nervous efficiency.
His eyes followed her hands as she dipped her finger in the shallow glass and shook a single drop of water into the scotch.
"So, are we celebrating anything?" she asked, breaking the silence brought by the waiter's appearance.
"Celebrating? Not really."
"Oh." She took a slip of her drink, letting her inhibitions drop from her shoulders slightly as the heat of the drink hit her throat; her eyes closed for a minute with pleasure.
When she opened them, she saw Edward Cullen's eyes trained on her, now more acutely and with more intense interest. Her breath quickened, as she strove to keep any flirtation out of her actions. This was business – she wanted to be taken seriously. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought he was interested in her on a different level; best to leave it be.
"Well, then, what can I help you with, Mr. Cullen?"
"I want to discuss the New Years party for the Eclipse. I need to nail the competition hard this year, and I've been watching how you operate. You run a tight ship, Ms Swan. What do you envision?"
She smiled happily. This was her element; she could deliver.
"For the Eclipse? Hm. Well." She leaned back in the booth, stretching her shoulder blades through the tailored fabric of her suit jacket.
Finding it uncomfortable to get creative, she slid out of it before grabbing the scotch and leaning back again, looking at the handsome man across from her with lidded eyes. It was moments like this that she forgot her age, and her past, and became timeless. Think about the ideas and nothing more.
"Well, there's no theme to try and hit, which is always more limitless," she began, swirling the drink before taking another sip.
She watched him sample the whiskey on the rocks in front of her, and was happy when he also finally leaned back.
Smiling fully at him, as if they were partners in crime on this idea creation, she began to outline a brief party idea. Tantalize him a bit - this could be a big business deal.
"It's got to be rich, and glamorous. Old Hollywood in its prime. Rat Pack – get Regis in at least, Sinatra's son, you know the like – red carpets, celebrities, and champagne in the Antoinette glasses. It's got to feel hot, with paparazzi and orchids, floating streamers of flowers hanging from the ceilings, and some seriously cool and chic band line-up. A correlation of old and new; the Vegas of the past, and of the future. Reds, golds, creams – send out invitations in the thickest paper with gilding to all your biggest clients."
She continued to gesture and elaborate for another few minutes before stopping herself.
"Am I boring you, Mr. Cullen?"
"Not at all," he waved off any apprehension. "I am impressed with your quick thinking."
"Part of the job," she shrugged, straightening back up.
"Then you're hired," he said briskly, and downed the rest of his whiskey in a hurry, barely sputtering as he straightened his suit jacket.
"Hired?" She suddenly panicked. "But there are so many particulars. For instance, I don't live out here permanently; we need to discuss which staff will handle daily operations—a contract—."
"You'll have a suite here at the Eclipse. I expect you to handle…daily operations."
He stood. Business was finished. She left her half finished drink as she stood in difference to him; his smooth movements caught her off guard and her struggle to her feel was ungainly.
"Bring the contract to my office tomorrow; someone will get it straightened away. Perhaps then I will be able to offer you dinner?"
She smiled, confidence an easy false front after years of practice despite her spinning head and whirling thoughts.
"I would love to, but tomorrow night I've got dinner with my staff for a post-event meeting."
"Very well." He nodded to her, and began to move past, his sleeve brushing her bare arm as he moved away. Heady with his nearness and the prestige he had just offered, she spun after him, grateful the lounge was empty now so no one would see her beg after Edward Cullen.
"Mr. Cullen." He spun smartly on his heel as she said his name, his eyes meeting hers again; indifferent, cold.
"Thank you for the drink. May I hope to see you again tomorrow night? Perhaps a little earlier—I like to see the latest light show on the waters."
He hesitated, then nodded, and turned around again, walking out onto the casino floor with purpose.
She watched him go, and finally breathed deeply, sinking back into the seats. Excited with the big job, she started to calculate the amount of work that would be spent on this project, and how much she'd have to continue to shuffle off on her staff at the headquarters in New York. Pulling out a legal pad, she began to draft the particulars of the contract.
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