When The Wrong One Loves You Right

A Confluence of Truths

Oh my fucking God...what part of inconspicuous did this asshole not understand?

When the elevator doors parted on the ground floor, I was greeted by the sight of Phillip hamming it up, grin in place, with one of our showgirls, Lena. She was dressed in a flesh-colored body suit draped with yards of sheer white chiffon designed to look Grecian, her impossibly copper colored tresses cascading down her back in corkscrew curls. She was pink faced and giggling. Phillip was saying something to her but I couldn't hear from this point.

God damn him! How was I supposed to fetch him discretely now? I ground my teeth and told myself that my irritation had everything to do with his being a thoughtless idiot and nothing to do with jealousy. So I simply folded my arms and waited for his little rendezvous to conclude.

Finally he looked up and saw me. His face went slack for a moment and I frowned, perplexed at his reaction. He seemed to forget all about Lena, as his eyes traveled down my form and back up. 

I looked down at my low-cut black leather dress with the corset waist and the mid-thigh length skirt. Not what every woman wore to work, but this was the Borgata. I watched as Phillip ended his conversation with Lena and she pranced off. He began stalking towards me slowly and I turned and made my way back to the elevator from which I had come. This one was isolated from the others as it accessed the penthouse suites. I typed in my code and pressed my thumb to the scanner, not looking over my shoulder when I felt the warm presence of six feet three inches of pure nuisance behind me.

"You look like a hot mama," Phillip murmured.

I nodded coolly and looked at him as the doors slid open. "I know."

His eyes lit up at my acknowledgement and that predatory gaze never left mine as we stepped onto the elevator and the doors slid shut, enveloping us in a kaleidoscope of golden mirrors.

"Did you wear that just for me?" he asked stepping closer to me.

I rounded on him. "What part of discretion do you not understand?"

Phillip held his hands up in defense, looking down at me like an innocent little boy. "She came up to me, sweetheart. You know what a people person I am!"

I rolled my eyes.

He dropped his hands and reached for one of mine. "Were you jealous?" he asked quietly.

I snatched my hand away with a noise of irritation. "Phillip, I don't care if you talk to a thousand girls! I don't care if you date or fuck a thousand girls! But when I ask you to be inconspicuous, that doesn't include hitting on the showgirls!"

He was trying hard not to laugh. "Ok, ok," he readily agreed, nodding. "I wasn't hitting on her, though. Honestly. I was asking her about Goff."

My eyes goggled at him. "You were what?" I screeched.

Phillip put his hands in his pockets and looked down, nodding. "Yup. She was telling me some interesting stuff too."

I grabbed his arm. "Don't ever question the staff about Marvin!" I growled. "That's like the exact opposite of discrete! And he is none of your business anyway."

Phillip pouted. "Well he is when he's marrying the girl I..." He stopped when I looked at him sharply. "...feel very strongly about."

The doors slid open then and I took a deep breath as I stepped off, Phillip close behind me. This was a very bad idea. 

"Did you get the roses?" he asked.

I fumbled with my key for a second. "Yes, I did," I replied not looking at him. "Wasn't that a bit much, Phillip?"