matter what friends he made, no matter what women he slept with—or married—he’d always be alone. People were born alone and they died alone. Pain was suffered alone. Sure, he’d tried to convince himself otherwise. He’d gone and gotten himself hitched to a beautiful woman who’d said she loved him, tried the whole classic nuclear family thing. Been there. Done that. Didn’t work.
It was a farce.
Now he just tried to be there for his at-risk kids whenever he could. But inside, Lex knew that, like him, they’d always be orphans. They’d always march alone. All he was doing was keeping them marching somewhere near the right track. Just like the old sheriff from Washoe County who’d stepped in to put him back on track when he’d started to run afoul of the law. That man had shown Lex he could take back control of his life.
Sheriff Tom McCall was the reason Lex had gone into law enforcement, a career Jenna Rothchild could end up costing him if he wasn’t careful tonight. These thoughts suddenly chilled the edge off the lust simmering inside him. Sleeping with Jenna was not worth losing his life over. Because, in truth, that’s what his job was—his life. It’s all he really had, along with his charity work. Even his friends were all tied to law enforcement one way or another.
The food arrived, and a sommelier brought wine. They sat in awkward silence until the servers left again.
Lex took a deep slug of what was obviously a very fine merlot, but he was more interested in the numbing effect and getting this dinner over with than the vintage. It had taken strange turns and felt oddly personal.
Personal was not a place he cared to go.
“You still haven’t told me what brought you back to Nevada, Lex,” Jenna said between mouthfuls.
He stopped chewing. “Back?”
“I know you grew up in Reno.”
“Rita told Cassie this?”
She nodded.
I swear I’m going to kill Perez.
Jenna dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Cassie can be rather persuasive.”
He grunted, chewing. The food was excellent, and Lex realized he was famished. “I was born in Reno,” he said, slicing into his fillet. “My mother was a Vegas native.”
“She’s deceased, then?”
He held her eyes for a moment. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “But I guess you know all that, too.” He took another swig of merlot.
“I don’t,” she said, her big brown eyes softening with a genuine compassion. It made her more beautiful, and Lex had to tamp down a strange impulse to tell her this, to let her know that when she dropped the act, he actually saw something he really liked, beyond her body. “She died when I was five,” he said, a weird compulsion driving him to tell Jenna things he’d really had no intention of revealing. “She was working at the Sun Sands Casino in Reno at the time, as a croupier. Before that, she worked here in Vegas, at Epstein’s old place.”
“As in Mercedes Epstein?”
“One and the same. Frank Epstein used to own the old Frontline Casino before he razed it to make way for the Desert Lion.”
Jenna frowned. “It was Mercedes who forced your price sky-high at the auction, you know.”
“And why do you think she did that, Jenna?”
“Probably to rattle the chains of the Rothchild clan—there’s an old rivalry between Frank Epstein and my dad. She likely wanted to force me to fork over top dollar for her precious orphan charity. I mean—” she flushed. “I’m sorry, Lex, I know the charity is special to you. It is to Mercedes as well. She’s known for her largesse when it comes to the Nevada Orphans Fund.”
“So the Epstein-Rothchild feud runs deep. Why?”
She looked a little flustered. “I…I don’t know. Honestly. My dad used to do business with Epstein back in the seventies. They had some kind of partnership deal. Then when my father wanted to move toward the construction of a couple of family-friendly super casinos, they had a falling out and parted ways. They won’t
It was a farce.
Now he just tried to be there for his at-risk kids whenever he could. But inside, Lex knew that, like him, they’d always be orphans. They’d always march alone. All he was doing was keeping them marching somewhere near the right track. Just like the old sheriff from Washoe County who’d stepped in to put him back on track when he’d started to run afoul of the law. That man had shown Lex he could take back control of his life.
Sheriff Tom McCall was the reason Lex had gone into law enforcement, a career Jenna Rothchild could end up costing him if he wasn’t careful tonight. These thoughts suddenly chilled the edge off the lust simmering inside him. Sleeping with Jenna was not worth losing his life over. Because, in truth, that’s what his job was—his life. It’s all he really had, along with his charity work. Even his friends were all tied to law enforcement one way or another.
The food arrived, and a sommelier brought wine. They sat in awkward silence until the servers left again.
Lex took a deep slug of what was obviously a very fine merlot, but he was more interested in the numbing effect and getting this dinner over with than the vintage. It had taken strange turns and felt oddly personal.
Personal was not a place he cared to go.
“You still haven’t told me what brought you back to Nevada, Lex,” Jenna said between mouthfuls.
He stopped chewing. “Back?”
“I know you grew up in Reno.”
“Rita told Cassie this?”
She nodded.
I swear I’m going to kill Perez.
Jenna dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Cassie can be rather persuasive.”
He grunted, chewing. The food was excellent, and Lex realized he was famished. “I was born in Reno,” he said, slicing into his fillet. “My mother was a Vegas native.”
“She’s deceased, then?”
He held her eyes for a moment. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “But I guess you know all that, too.” He took another swig of merlot.
“I don’t,” she said, her big brown eyes softening with a genuine compassion. It made her more beautiful, and Lex had to tamp down a strange impulse to tell her this, to let her know that when she dropped the act, he actually saw something he really liked, beyond her body. “She died when I was five,” he said, a weird compulsion driving him to tell Jenna things he’d really had no intention of revealing. “She was working at the Sun Sands Casino in Reno at the time, as a croupier. Before that, she worked here in Vegas, at Epstein’s old place.”
“As in Mercedes Epstein?”
“One and the same. Frank Epstein used to own the old Frontline Casino before he razed it to make way for the Desert Lion.”
Jenna frowned. “It was Mercedes who forced your price sky-high at the auction, you know.”
“And why do you think she did that, Jenna?”
“Probably to rattle the chains of the Rothchild clan—there’s an old rivalry between Frank Epstein and my dad. She likely wanted to force me to fork over top dollar for her precious orphan charity. I mean—” she flushed. “I’m sorry, Lex, I know the charity is special to you. It is to Mercedes as well. She’s known for her largesse when it comes to the Nevada Orphans Fund.”
“So the Epstein-Rothchild feud runs deep. Why?”
She looked a little flustered. “I…I don’t know. Honestly. My dad used to do business with Epstein back in the seventies. They had some kind of partnership deal. Then when my father wanted to move toward the construction of a couple of family-friendly super casinos, they had a falling out and parted ways. They won’t
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