Free Palm Springs Heat by Dc Thome Page B

Fast Lane guaranteed
well-heeled male guests they would get lucky.
    “Shouldn’t we be going the other
way?” she said.
    “Depends on where you’re trying to
end up.”
    The Casino Room? Lara didn’t
say anything. She didn’t want to jinx anything by talking too much.
    And then there was the scenery. The
sun dipped behind the mountains, turning them purple. Even in the ebbing luster
of daytime, the desert was a feast of colors and textures. Lights sparkled in
the distance, and then silhouettes of palm trees and stately buildings appeared,
etched into the deepening blue of the cloudless sky.
    “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Clay asked.
“People think it’ll be like Vegas…lights flashing everywhere. Not that that’s a
bad thing, if you’re in the mood.”
    The Heat sign came into view.
    “So, where are we going?” Lara
said, playing innocent.
    “Right over there.” Clay pulled
into the circle drive in front of the resort.
    “A hotel? Come here often?”
    “Yes, actually. I own it.”
    “How handy.”
    Clay stopped in front of the ornate
art deco entryway, sprang from the vehicle, danced over to Lara’s side and
nabbed the door handle just as the deeply tanned valet got there.
    “Mr. C?”
    “Ricky! How’s business this
evening?”
    “You know. The usual.” Ricky looked
nervously over his shoulder toward the lobby. He turned pale when Clay opened
the car door for Lara.
    Clay nodded toward the hotel. “I’m
betting everyone’s going to be surprised to see me.”
    “Yes, sir. I think you would win
that bet.”
    Clay discreetly produced a
hundred-dollar bill and handed it to Ricky. “Have fun parking this baby.”
    “I think I will, sir. Quite a
beauty.”
    “Yes, she is,” Clay said. “And the
car’s pretty hot, too.”
    Smiling devilishly at Lara, he
crooked his arm. She clasped it, and together they headed inside.
     
    * * *
     
    The lobby was bigger than entire hotels
Lara had stayed in. Palatial, yet understated. Earth tones everywhere. And
glass—lots of it, creating the illusion that the inside of the building and the
landscape flowed seamlessly together.
    Lara became aware of a growing
hubbub. A young woman and an older man in identical suits hustled toward them.
    “Donald, Therese, how are you this
evening?”
    “Very well, Mr. C,” Therese
responded. “We weren’t expecting you.”
    “But now that I’m here, I’m sure
Sushma—” He was interrupted by the squawk of Therese’s phone.
    “Yes, Ms. V, a few minutes ago.”
She held the phone out to Clay. “Ms. V would like to speak with you, sir.”
    Clay took the phone and turned on
the speaker. “Hey. Nice evening.”
    “Nice evening, my Brahmin ass. Now,
turn off that speaker.”
    “But, Shush, I—”
    “Do not ‘Shush’ me. Turn off the
speaker.”
    “But, it would be rude—”
    “I will be more than happy to
provide you lessons in the true meaning of the word ‘rude.’”
    Clay looked at Lara and shrugged.
“Do you mind? My associate seems to be having issues.”
    “You will be having my knee to your
balls if you do not turn off that speaker pronto!”
    Lara threw up her hands in mock
resignation. “You’d better do what she says.”
    “Be right with you, Ms. V.” Clay
turned off the speaker. “Donald and Therese, this is Lara Dixon. D and T are
two of my best. They’ll set you up while I take care of this. Is The Coyote
available?”
    “I’m afraid not, sir,” Donald
answered, “but the Oasis…”
    Therese looked as though she might
puke.
    “Even better,” Clay said. He winked
at Lara and turned away.
    Therese elbowed Donald in the ribs.
“Nice work, moron,” she whispered a little too loudly. “Maybe Ms. V should
apply her knee to your balls.”
    Lara turned around, pretending not
to have heard. “So…the Oasis?”
    “Yes, Miss Dixon,”
Therese said, suddenly congenial. “This is your first time here, yes?”
    Lara knew that they would know if
she had been to Heat before. Under her own