Ms. Take: Drive Me Wild, #4

By Amy Booker

Alcohol and bad decisions go together like tacos and Tuesdays, especially in Vegas, where bad choices are buy-one-get-one-free.

 

Recent UNLV grad Beatrice Edwards has just landed her first post-college job as the new Public Relations Director of Mischief Motors, the most elite private car service in Las Vegas.

Theo Thompson, the brother of Mischief Motors mechanic Noah, is the manager of the Bliss Casino, where Beatrice first interviewed. Since they met, he can't get her out of his mind.

The new job is cause for celebration. During the festivities, she runs into Theo. And more celebrations ensue. And even more….

Let the bad decisions begin.

Wedded bliss won't come easy, especially when the bride doesn't remember the wedding.

Bea has a violently dysfunctional, yet long-standing family dynamic she can't run away from, even though she should. And Theo can only be understanding for so long.

This is Vegas. What are the odds they'll end up with a Happily Ever After?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Renaissan Publishing Limited
• Release date: Mar 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798985987591

Amy Booker

Amy Booker is a recovering musician, and the International Bestselling Author of the Near Miss Rock Star Romance series (Almost, So Close, Barely), which follows the exploits of the members of the band Indigo King. Her latest series, Drive Me Wild (Ms. Fortune, Ms. Chief, Ms. Lead, Ms. Take), are Vegas-centered stories of strong female main characters and the men who think they can handle them. Coming up next, it's back to all things rock 'n roll as we catch up with the band Murderous Crows, as they claw their way to the top of the charts. When she’s not adapting life’s emotional trainwrecks into situations of love and hope, Amy can be found listening to or writing music, enjoying an audiobook, being the emotional support person for her neurotic dog, or traveling. Sign up for release notifications or view upcoming content at http://www.amybookerauthor.com

Book preview

one

THEO

LUCKY PENNY

Ten minutes. I’ve waited for ten whole minutes. Which is ten minutes more than I normally give job candidates. If you can’t show up for your interview on time, don’t bother coming. It isn’t a good look and doesn’t leave a great first impression on me.

Since being promoted to manager of the entire Bliss Casino, I’ve become even more strict about employee conduct. It’s why I’m looking to replace our former Marketing Director. He thought social media was the entirety of his job and not actual marketing.

He was buddies with my predecessor, so it was obvious how he got his job, and it was equally obvious to me why he needed to move on. The lack of experience was glaring, and Brandon Carmichael, our billionaire owner, tasked me with replacing key positions with qualified people. I’ve worked hard to reach where I am professionally and take my job seriously.

A candidate being late for an interview will not fly with me. It shows zero respect for my time.

I’ve met with nine other candidates and am basically set on the last one I saw. Their experience at another casino was stellar, and they’d be a catch if we could hire them. This is tipping me further in that direction.

I might be new to this position, but I’m well aware it’s the most important one I’ve had to date. And I work my ass off every single day without so much as a day off. So, sure, the suits are nicer, but I spend nearly 24/7 in them with little free personal time. But right now, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for my career.

Mr. Thompson? Beatrice Edwards… is here now. Peter, my assistant’s deep voice, booms over the phone’s intercom. He sounds unsure of what to do since she’s late. He’s as new to his position as I am to mine. We’re figuring this out as we go.

Sighing, I consider the situation for a minute. Maybe she had a reason for not making it on time. While I’m tempted to turn her away, I need to fill this role. That leaves me stuck between a rock and a hard place. She better knock my socks off.

Send her in, Peter. Thanks.

Opening her resume to refresh my memory, my office door creaks open but I don’t look up. I keep my face stern and take my time reading. Besides, if she can make me wait, I can do the same. It’s a dick move, but it’s the mood I’m in now after being made to wait for her.

Have a seat. Waving at the seats across from me, I still don’t glance up at her. I’m interested, too, in how long I’ll pout like a brat. If I had to guess, I’m thinking I could go for a good hour if I focus.

I lift my gaze to meet hers. She’s stunning. Lithe, tanned legs, curved perfectly, that cross demurely at the ankle. My eyes travel up deliberately, taking in the specimen of perfection in front of me until I reach her face.

Holy shit. Knock my socks off? Careful what you wish for, man.

A rock seems to have settled in my throat, and it blocks both air and words. I can’t read her expression, but the blueness of her eyes is astonishing. I don’t think I’ve seen a clearer blue. And her hair… It’s hard to tell what color it is since it appears to be all of them at once. It’s primarily blonde, but there’s red and brown mixed in. Again, I’ve never seen anything like it, but it suits her in a way I’ve never seen someone’s hair fit somebody.

Mr. Thompson, I’m Beatrice Edwards. She juts a hand toward me, and I see it’s trembling a little, so I hold it with both of mine. She’s nervous, and I’m compelled to put her at ease. It’s strange because I am not an affectionate person whatsoever. I apologize for being so late, but it took me forever to find an Uber that would come get me. Her eyes drop to the floor as she lets go of me.

That’s odd. Ordering an Uber or Lyft in Las Vegas is damn easy. They’re everywhere. There’s got to be more to this story, but she’s hesitant to continue.

Please call me Theo. Were you out in the middle of the desert or something? I laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but she doesn’t join me. In fact, she looks even more uncomfortable. Shit.

No. I just live… she drifts off. Never mind. Anyway, I’m sorry to be late. It’s not a habit, I swear.

Right. Well, you’re here now, I say, taking a quick peek at the address listed on my screen. I don’t typically pay attention to that part since it doesn’t matter where people live, so long as they can do their job. That’s when I read she lives in the shittiest possible neighborhood of Vegas, Naked City. I’ve heard rideshare drivers avoid the area, which only intrigues me more. Apart from being late, her resume doesn’t show there’s been any type of hardship. It’s impressive for a recent graduate. I flash a smile. Tell me about yourself.

It’s the worst interview approach in the book and so open-ended, any answer could be forthcoming. But I’m curious what Beatrice Edwards will tell me. Her bright blue eyes are so closed off I doubt she gives away much to anyone. For that reason alone, I want her to share herself with me.

A knot of anxiety has formed in my stomach, and a light sheen of perspiration is developing on my palms. She’s having a powerful effect on me. I’ve never experienced anything similar with a stranger. I used to have an awful habit of thinking just about every woman I met was The One, but that’s nothing compared to this. I'm unsure if I like the sensation.

I need to be careful here. Being attracted to an employee or a job candidate is not good.

Bad idea. Terrible idea.

She rubs her hands together, and I'm an awful person for asking. Even though I’m dying for her tell me all about herself, seeing her so uncomfortable makes me want to rescind the question.

Well, as you can see on my resume, I’m a new grad from UNLV. I interned for a semester in promotions and relationship management for the local NHL team. Before that, I worked on data analysis with my professor’s research project. She gets more confident the more she talks, and it’s as though I’m looking at a sunrise. Her face lights up as she goes into more detail about her earlier projects.

Again, I need to pull myself away from staring at her. Something about Beatrice Edwards makes my brain mushy, and other parts of my anatomy take over thinking.

I have got to stop.

But, and I could be imagining things, her body language suggests she might feel the same way about me. She’s leaning in now, absently playing with a lock of her hair, biting her bottom lip. I'd say those are unmistakable signs of interest. If I don’t keep reminding myself to stay professional, this interview could go completely off the rails.

What makes you want to work for Bliss Casino? I try to drag the train back onto the track.

After a minute, she clears her throat and shifts in her seat. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was just studying me the same way I’ve been examining her this entire time. She’s definitely interested.

Well, I took the liberty of reviewing your current rewards program for your high rollers, and it could use a more modern overhaul. I have a few progressive ideas on how to do that.

That piques my interest. The rewards program is so old it feels as though it was created when the casino first opened years ago.

Oh? Like what?

A wry smile plays on her pink lips. You’ll have to hire me to find out.

Well, fuck.

I’m screwed. If I hire Beatrice, it will be pure torture for me to be around her every day. There’s something about her so intriguing, and so inviting. I don’t know if I can stay away from her like I’ll have to. And if I don’t hire her, she’ll hate my guts, so I can’t win either way.

Yup. Totally screwed.

I fumble through the rest of the interview, answering her questions regarding the position. They’re good questions. Very insightful. But fuck me if I remember my name, let alone what the job entails. I don’t know how I answer anything.

After the interrogation from both of us runs out, I stand and offer her my hand. She mirrors me and takes it, more confident this time, and our skin meets again. I wait for a shockwave or a lightning jolt of electricity to flow between us or something, but nothing happens. Nothing supernatural in the slightest.

Maybe I just invented the idea of a connection. When she looked at me, I thought I saw something else. But that was my imagination. It wasn’t mutual. It was only a job interview for her, after all.

That should make my hiring decision more straightforward, but it doesn’t. It makes it more complicated. Because now I have my conscience to wrangle with.

Thanks for coming in today. It was a pleasure to meet you. I nod, and even though she’s as stoic as they come, I think I see disappointment behind her blue eyes. God damn it. We’ll be in touch either way. Soon. I hope to decide in the next week.

She nods back, just as professionally. Thank you for your time. I apologize again for being late.

As she leaves my office, I watch her go. I shouldn’t, but I do. There’s no chance in hell I’d miss seeing her hips sway like that as she walks away. It would be a crime against humanity to leave something so spectacular unnoticed. I am fully aware, however, of how impolite and unprofessional it is.

And there’s my conscience. Good luck with this one, buddy.

two

BEATRICE

WAKING UP

Well, that went like total shit. As soon as I walked in, I could tell Mr. Thompson was not happy I was so late. Should I call him Theo? I'm unsure what’s proper when it comes to stuff like that. But then, it doesn’t sit right calling him Mr. Thompson, either.

It appeared he lightened up a bit as we talked, but I didn’t get the warm fuzzies about my prospects of landing the job. He was kind of mean at the beginning too, but I guess that’s forgivable since I was late.

All in all, it’s a good thing because, oh my God, he was hot. It felt like those hazel eyes of his bore through me the entire time we talked. His light brown hair was neatly styled, but I bet it looks even more remarkable when it’s a bit messy. The whole interview it tempted me to reach over and run my fingers through it to mess it up a little. I’m not sure how I contained myself. And that squared jaw... Jesus Christmas.

I’ve found guys attractive before, of course. Even hot. But holy hell, I almost hope the job goes to somebody else because I don’t think I’d be able to concentrate with him around. I wonder how old he is? He’s older than me? But how much older?

Oof. As if it matters. It’s not like I can get close to him or anyone. So, I have to be realistic about him and the job. Plus, getting a director’s gig straight out of college is a big ask. I’m shooting for the stars, applying for that one. I don’t have a shot in hell, but at least I put myself out there.

I desperately need a job.

My interview with Mischief Motors this afternoon is more my speed. It’s another director position, but it’s a much smaller company, so the qualifications are a little more open to my inexperience. Oddly enough, the wife of the owner of Bliss Casino is one of the owners, and I’ll meet with her half-sister, Chelsie, for the interview. And Chelsie is married to none other than Noah Thompson. Theo Thompson’s brother. It’s a family affair today. If I had known everyone’s relationship before setting the interviews, I might not have scheduled them on the same day or at all. It just feels weird.

I thought about mentioning it in my interview with Theo but decided I probably shouldn’t say which other jobs I’m looking into. How would I explain it? Because it sounds exactly like you’re a stalker when you try to say, ‘Really, I’m not a stalker.’

Who would I be stalking in that scenario? Theo or his brother? Both? Am I overthinking this?

Absolutely.

Regardless of how the meeting with Theo went, I won’t be late for my interview with Chelsie. It’s still three hours away, but I’m not going to risk stopping at home in between. I don’t want to relive what I went through this morning.

There is a coffee shop near the entrance of the casino. After getting a bottle of water, I sit by the window to people-watch for a little while.

My older brother and I used to do this often at the casino our mother worked at when we were younger. While we waited for her shift serving drinks to end, we would try to guess if the gamblers coming in or leaving were happy or sad. It was always one of the two.

Nobody is ever indifferent in a casino.

Thinking of my brother brings to my mind why I had to order a ride to my interview this morning in the first place. I push it out of my head just as quickly as it appears. No more negative thoughts today, please.

The things I do for my family.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Mr. Thompson, or Theo, crossing the casino floor, and damn, he fills out that suit nicely too. It was hard to tell when he was behind his desk.

As he walks through, several employees approach him and ask questions or present some kind of issue, one after the other. He greets them with a warm smile and listens closely to each of them. He handles each calmly and confidently, then moves on to the next. They don’t seem to bother him at all. It looks like employees feel like they are the only ones in the room when they talk to him. He makes each person feel like they are the most important person in the world to him.

There’s something about watching someone when they’re unaware. Not in the creepy stalker sort of way. But just observing a person in their natural state when they aren’t aware anyone is paying attention. That’s what I’ve always liked about people-watching, knowing they are showing who they truly are.

And Mr. Theo Thompson is a nice guy. Too good for me, I’m sure.

Still, he is fine to look at.

The ride to Mischief Motors goes without a hitch, and I meet with Chelsie Thompson. With her being the sister-in-law of Theo, this is starting to feel a bit strange, and I debate internally whether I should mention it.

Ultimately, I decide against it. I don’t need to say what other interviews I’ve had. It will make it awkward if I bring it up. I could do without any more awkwardness today.

Thanks for coming in, Chelsie says, pointing to a chair as she rounds her desk. Sorry if things are crazy here. I’m trying to do the job of three people now, and I barely have the attention span for one. She smiles wearily, and I instantly like her.

I admire women who take their careers seriously and master their craft. Chelsie Thompson is that kind of woman. She has run this business with an eye for detail and a commitment to excellence. The effort shows with the company’s progression. Her office walls are covered with photos of her late father, who started the business, and her adorable kids, which just increases my admiration for this hard-working mother. To do all this with a family, too, is a juggling act not everyone can handle. The photo collage, decorated with her children’s faces, is a reminder of why she has made such a name for herself and the company.

There’s a light tapping on the door frame, and as I turn, I see a close carbon copy of Theo Thompson, but he’s somehow not as cute. This must be his brother Noah, the head mechanic here. His hair and eyes are slightly darker, but the similarities are unmistakable. I’d know they were brothers even if I didn’t research the entire extended family on the internet yesterday.

Sorry to interrupt the interview, he says sheepishly, with a slight wave in my direction. I just wanted to remind you, Chels, I’m taking J and G to the doctor for their checkups at lunch. I’ll drop them at Normandy’s and be back here around 2:00. You know, in case you were looking for me. He gives her a quick wink before leaving, and Chelsie’s cheeks start flaming.

She notices me eyeing her curiously and rolls her eyes. J and G are our kids, Jett, and Grace. Apparently, single-syllable names aren’t short enough for my husband. Her shoulders lift in a shrug, but she smiles. And don’t mind him. He’s always trying to embarrass me in front of people. He’s too cute to be any good at it.

It must be nice to work together. I’m curious how that dynamic works. Obviously, they are still very much in love, so it can’t be difficult for them. It makes me think about working with Theo and how that might look. I’m not sure I could do it.

Ugh. Chase that thought out of your head already.

It has its moments, she laughs. But it’s generally great. She drifts off into her thoughts for a minute but then snaps out of it. Anyway. The job. I’ve interviewed like a million people, but nobody clicked. I don’t know what it is. I’m usually pretty decent at finding good hires.

I’m not sure how to take that. Way to make a person feel wanted. Am I the last choice here?

She must read the emotions on my face because her eyes go wide. Oh my God, that sounds horrible. I am so sorry. I just got your resume a week ago and called you right away. To be honest, I’ve canceled my other interviews, and I’m ready to offer you the job now.

Wow, really? This is something I did not see coming. We haven’t even discussed the job in any detail.

Yup. I have already checked your references, talked to your professors, and looked up some of your work with the hockey team. Very impressive, by the way.

Thanks…?

This is unorthodox, but that’s how we roll here at Mischief. If you can put up with crazy, you’ll fit right in here.

Okay…

Okay? Does that mean you’ll take the job? I swear she’s more excited about the possibility than I am.

Staring at her, dumbfounded, I need to think fast.

She’s offering me the job. Right here and now.

While the job at Bliss would be higher profile, there’s no guarantee it will be offered to me. As a matter of fact, it looked decidedly like I wasn’t going to land the job. I guess my decision has been made.

It does! I’ll take the job. Thank you.

Chelsie jumps up and circles the desk to give me a hug. I stiffen as her arms wrap around me since I’m not used to this kind of emotion in the workplace or from complete strangers. I’m also not a hugger.

She pulls away quickly, giving me space. Sorry. Didn’t mean to attack you with a hug there. I’m just so excited you accepted the position.

No, no. I’m excited too. Just a bit surprised at how fast it happened. Running my hands through my hair, I blink a few times, trying to gather myself. I’m a little speechless, sorry.

Chelsie Thompson has no way of knowing how important landing this job is to me.

Well, speeches are overrated, so we’re good. She gives me a manilla folder. Here are all the forms you’ll need to fill out. Taxes, insurance, and stuff like that. Take it home to work on and bring it back with you. When can you start?

I pull the folder to my chest, wrapping it in my arms carefully, trying to assure myself it’s real. It still hasn’t hit me I got the job. And Chelsie, bouncing with excitement, is making this more surreal than it already is.

Um… I don’t know. When would you like me to start?

Thinking straight isn’t exactly how my brain is working at the moment, let alone picturing a calendar in my head.

What day is it anyway? Is this happening?

She studies me briefly with a wide grin. Let’s go with Monday. That’ll give you a couple more days of freedom and then the weekend to celebrate.

Sounds good. I’ll see you on Monday, I say, backing out of the office, still clutching the folder to my chest like a security blanket. That’s precisely what it feels like.

Security.

What a concept.

three

THEO

OUT OF MY LEAGUE

The next evening, I agree to meet my brother’s friend River at the Raven to catch the band Murderous Crows, who are playing at an album release party. Somehow, he scored tickets, which are pretty exclusive, but I’m not going to question it. I could use a night out. Since being promoted, I don’t think I’ve had a single night out, so this will be a nice change of pace.

We get to the bar early and find a