personal."
"Easy to say now that he's gone," she shot back.
Weston smiled tightly, a benign thing that didn't quite reach his beady eyes. "I guess we're all in a better financial place now that he is, aren't we, Britton?"
Her eyes narrowed so far they were just tiny slits, her brows pulling down into angry slashes. "Exactly what are you implying, Weston?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all." Buddy cut his eyes to a painting on the wall. "Is that a Vermeer? Lovely. Priceless. Yours now, no?"
"Get out!" Britton shouted. Causing several heads to turn our way. "Get the hell out of our casino, and don't you dare come back."
Weston smiled his tight smile at Britton again, any emotion behind it completely unreadable. Then he turned to me, nodded, and made his way toward the exit.
Britton waited until the heavy double doors closed behind him before letting out a long sigh, declaring to the room in general, "God, I need another drink," and heading off toward the bar I'd yet to find.
"Hurricane Britton strikes again," a gravelly voice at my elbow observed. Alfie.
"In her defense, he's a jerk," I pointed out.
Alfie nodded. "That he is," he agreed. Then he turned to face me. "It's nice to see you, Tessie. I wish it were under better circumstances."
"Thank you," I answered, knowing that was as close to emotion as Alfie was likely to display.
"How long are you in town for?" he asked.
"Leaving tonight," I said, making the decision on the spot. I'd had enough of the Royal Palace.
Alfie frowned. "I had hoped you'd stay for a few days. I have an appointment set up for you with your father's attorney tomorrow."
"His attorney?" I asked. "Why?"
"To go over the terms of your father's will."
I bit my lip. While my father lived large, I had no idea what his actual net worth was. I guess I'd always figured most of what was in his penthouse belonged to the casino. He lived on site, drove company cars. It was a lifestyle, but I didn't know how much of it he actually owned. I couldn't keep my eyes from straying to the Vermeer hanging on the wall.
"I don't want anything," I heard myself say, almost meaning it. The painting was amazing, and I would have loved to give it a good home.
"It's not that simple," Alfie responded. Though something in the tightness of his voice made me think he wished it was.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the pronoun Britton used just now to describe the casino wasn't entirely accurate." He paused. "When she told Weston to get out of our casino. It isn't ours or even hers."
He paused again, and I felt an odd ball of anxiety instantly grow in my gut, the words ringing in my ears even as he said them.
"It's yours . The casino now belongs to you, Tessie."
CHAPTER TWO
"What do you mean it's mine?" I asked, feeling a frown burrow between my brows as I studied the man across the table from me the next day.
After Alfie's bombshell last night, I'd asked the exact same question of him . But all he'd tell me is that my father's attorney would discuss everything with me in the morning. I gave up, found the bar, ordered a very stiff drink, then reluctantly trudged downstairs to ask the clerk on duty at check-in for a room for the night. But apparently Alfie had already arranged that , too, and a suite was waiting for me. I'd tossed and turned all night in the thousand-thread-count sheets, wondering exactly what kind of mess my father was dragging me back into here.
And this morning I was finding out, as I faced my father's attorney, Stintner, and Alfie across a huge glass table in my father's conference room, papers filled with legalese littering the surface.
"You are your father's only child," Stintner explained to me.
"Yes. I'm aware."
"As such, the casino is yours."
I shook my head. "Doesn't the casino belong to shareholders or a parent company or something? It's not like grandma's silver that can just be handed to me."
"Of course." Stintner nodded. He had white hair, a slim frame, and a large nose and
"Easy to say now that he's gone," she shot back.
Weston smiled tightly, a benign thing that didn't quite reach his beady eyes. "I guess we're all in a better financial place now that he is, aren't we, Britton?"
Her eyes narrowed so far they were just tiny slits, her brows pulling down into angry slashes. "Exactly what are you implying, Weston?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all." Buddy cut his eyes to a painting on the wall. "Is that a Vermeer? Lovely. Priceless. Yours now, no?"
"Get out!" Britton shouted. Causing several heads to turn our way. "Get the hell out of our casino, and don't you dare come back."
Weston smiled his tight smile at Britton again, any emotion behind it completely unreadable. Then he turned to me, nodded, and made his way toward the exit.
Britton waited until the heavy double doors closed behind him before letting out a long sigh, declaring to the room in general, "God, I need another drink," and heading off toward the bar I'd yet to find.
"Hurricane Britton strikes again," a gravelly voice at my elbow observed. Alfie.
"In her defense, he's a jerk," I pointed out.
Alfie nodded. "That he is," he agreed. Then he turned to face me. "It's nice to see you, Tessie. I wish it were under better circumstances."
"Thank you," I answered, knowing that was as close to emotion as Alfie was likely to display.
"How long are you in town for?" he asked.
"Leaving tonight," I said, making the decision on the spot. I'd had enough of the Royal Palace.
Alfie frowned. "I had hoped you'd stay for a few days. I have an appointment set up for you with your father's attorney tomorrow."
"His attorney?" I asked. "Why?"
"To go over the terms of your father's will."
I bit my lip. While my father lived large, I had no idea what his actual net worth was. I guess I'd always figured most of what was in his penthouse belonged to the casino. He lived on site, drove company cars. It was a lifestyle, but I didn't know how much of it he actually owned. I couldn't keep my eyes from straying to the Vermeer hanging on the wall.
"I don't want anything," I heard myself say, almost meaning it. The painting was amazing, and I would have loved to give it a good home.
"It's not that simple," Alfie responded. Though something in the tightness of his voice made me think he wished it was.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the pronoun Britton used just now to describe the casino wasn't entirely accurate." He paused. "When she told Weston to get out of our casino. It isn't ours or even hers."
He paused again, and I felt an odd ball of anxiety instantly grow in my gut, the words ringing in my ears even as he said them.
"It's yours . The casino now belongs to you, Tessie."
CHAPTER TWO
"What do you mean it's mine?" I asked, feeling a frown burrow between my brows as I studied the man across the table from me the next day.
After Alfie's bombshell last night, I'd asked the exact same question of him . But all he'd tell me is that my father's attorney would discuss everything with me in the morning. I gave up, found the bar, ordered a very stiff drink, then reluctantly trudged downstairs to ask the clerk on duty at check-in for a room for the night. But apparently Alfie had already arranged that , too, and a suite was waiting for me. I'd tossed and turned all night in the thousand-thread-count sheets, wondering exactly what kind of mess my father was dragging me back into here.
And this morning I was finding out, as I faced my father's attorney, Stintner, and Alfie across a huge glass table in my father's conference room, papers filled with legalese littering the surface.
"You are your father's only child," Stintner explained to me.
"Yes. I'm aware."
"As such, the casino is yours."
I shook my head. "Doesn't the casino belong to shareholders or a parent company or something? It's not like grandma's silver that can just be handed to me."
"Of course." Stintner nodded. He had white hair, a slim frame, and a large nose and
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