Page 6 of Resisting His Charm
“Thank you. I’m really sorry. We’re leaving.” The bride-to-be links her arm through Poppy’s and tries to pull her towards the exit.
“Wait.” Poppy stops, turning back to me. “I didn’t get your name.”
“You want my name?”
“Yeah, so I can tell management you deserve a raise, give you a good review or whatever. They should pay you more. You were way nicer to me than the asshole bartender who tried to grab my ankle and yank me down.”
My eyes dart towards the bar. “Which one?” I ask. There are three guys currently manning the counter.
“I don’t remember.” Poppy shakes her head. “Oh, wait, that one.” She points to the fucker on the end with what looks like a fresh claw mark running down his cheek.
“Did you scratch him?” I ask her.
“Yep, he let go real quick after that.” She smiles at me like she’s proud. “You should never grab a girl who doesn’t want to be grabbed.”
“I agree.” I nod.
“Okay, Poppy. I’m tired. Please, can we go now?” her friend pleads.
“Where are you staying?” I ask them.
“Paris,” the friend replies.
“Let me get you rooms here. It’s late and you two really shouldn’t be walking The Strip alone,” I say.
“Oh, no, you don’t need to do that.” The friend shakes her head.
I pull out my phone and send a message to the front desk, requesting two of the suites we keep free for high-rollers. They’rethe nicer rooms in the casino. “It’s already done. Come on, I’ll show you the way.” My palm lands on Poppy’s lower back.
“Why?” she asks, looking up at me.
“Whywhat?”
“Why would you get us rooms here? We can’t afford this swanky place,” she clarifies.
“They’re on the house,” I tell her. “And I would have my ass handed to me if my mama knew I let two women walk The Strip at this hour of the morning alone.”
“You scared of your mama?” Poppy quirks a brow.
“Everyone is scared of my mama.” I chuckle. For good reason too. Only an idiot wouldn’t fear my mother’s wrath and I’m no idiot.
I press the button for the elevator. Once inside, I hit the top floor.
“That’s a lot of floors,” Poppy’s friend says.
“Alice, if we die, you should know I had the best weekend with you.” Poppy turns to the girl.
“If we die, you should know there is no one I would rather go out with than you,” Alice replies.
“Why the fuck do you both think you’re dying?”
“Because it’s always the hot ones.” Poppy shrugs.
“The hot ones?”
“Yep. It’s always the hot ones who want to peel your skin off and wear it like a cape,” Poppy explains. “Just, if you do that, you should know that I have a little tattoo on my thigh. Don’t cut it in half. You should keep that part as a trophy 'cause it’s real cute.”
“You think I’m hot?” I raise a brow at her. “Also, the little horseshoe tattooiscute.”
