Page 20 of Forbidden Eyes
I unbuckle my seatbelt and move to sit in the empty seat opposite him, crossing my legs.
“Hey, careful.” Carter scowls at me, looking over his paperwork that might have moved an inch.
“What business?” I stare at him, which is a lot harder than it should be, especially remembering my temper at him. All I can think about is the green of his eyes, the flecks of gold and hazel, which remind me of galaxies if I look hard enough. The edge of the scar creeps out from his shirt collar and instead of detracting from his features, it only adds to them. He looks dangerous, but for some reason I’m not scared, even though everything is telling me I should be.
“Quinn has a new casino opening. Wants me to ensure everything is in order. Planned and carried out.”
“Does he usually send you to open new casinos?” I tilt my head. I know how to use the internet. The Cane empire is vast. They own property and businesses all over the States and internationally.
“Sometimes.”
“And what is your job, exactly?”
“I run Cane business. Ensure certain facets are running smoothly and there are no problems.”
I nod but catch him shifting in his seat. “How long have you worked for my uncle?”
“A long time.”
“But you’re young, what, early thirties?”
“Near enough.”
“No college degree?” I find myself wanting to ask questions about Carter rather than Cane.
For the first time he smiles slightly. It's lazy, arrogant, as if something amuses him about my question. He leans forward, planting his arms on his legs. My own body shrinks back in response to the shift from him, a shudder coming from his sudden proximity. “No degree. None, Sofia. Any more stupid questions, or can I get on with my work?”
Everything I'm trying to be, the sense of calm I’m gripping onto, begins to crumble under his scrutiny. He looks at his watch, becoming bored with the wait.
“He trusts you. My uncle?” I'm not even sure why I asked that. It's just… I can't think.
“He wouldn’t let me do what I do if he didn’t. He certainly wouldn’t put you in my charge.”
“You make me sound like a child.”
“Aren’t you?” His challenge kills what little piece of me I was hanging onto, and I begin to feel resentment build at his reluctance and quick opinions. It spurs me onwards, annoyed.
“Do you treat Logan as a child?”
“No. He fucking acts like one, though.”
“Then please don’t presume to think of me as one. I’ve worked hard my whole life. People might only see me as spoilt and lucky for having Benjamin Vico as my father, but it’s hard. I’m here to learn what the business my father runs, the business I will rightly inherit should I want it, might involve. My father wouldn’t show me. Quinn is doing so.”
“Why does an Ivy League brat want to know about running casinos and clubs? I'm guessing you didn't major in business.”
“Organic chemistry. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to know. How old was Logan when he started working?”
Carter looks away, not prepared to answer, because he knows what the truth will mean.
“Do you want a drink?” He stands and heads back to the small galley.
“Sure. A water is fine.”
He returns with two bottles of water and a chocolate bar for him.
“We’ll land in Miami and check into the hotel. The opening isn’t until later tonight. I’ll visit, meet with the manager, check the staffing roster and the setup, confirm the house limits and check over what big players are booked in and how much we’ll allow them to play with. Then we can grab some food in the restaurant before the customers start arriving. I’ll oversee the first hour or so. Make sure the tables are full and that people are putting their money down.”
“Great. If that’s the plan, I’ll need clothes for later.”