“What’s not adding up?”
We round the corner and find a line fifty people deep that makes Tyler frown. “I could call the concierge. They can get you every doughnut you want, and we wouldn’t have to wait in line.”
I scoff, moving to join the hungry patrons. “This is part of the experience. It will add to the satisfaction because you had to wait for them.”
His eyes darken, and he licks his lips, and I feel that pounding in my chest that dares me to lean forward.
I clear my throat. “You don’t trust the management company?”
Tyler breathes in deeply through his nose. “I don’t know. Something’s amiss. Take the New Orleans hotel, for instance. It’s always been one of our busiest locations. It was sold out all three nights we were there, and yet the profit and loss statement doesn't reflect that."
“What could create that kind of discrepancy?”
He shakes his head. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. They’re telling me it’s upkeep costs and taxes, which,” his eyes round, “are admittedly high—too high—but it still doesn’t add up.”
“You could talk to Nessie about it. She might have some ideas. She's an accounting major.”
“I’m sure it’s just something I'm overlooking.” He stretches his shoulders, pulling them both back. “I’ve been around the hotels my entire life, learning the industry, but accounting was never something I spent time on. I preferred focusing on how our hotels interacted with the community and how we could give back while also remaining a sought-after experience.”
“I didn’t realize the hotels have been open since nineteen-thirty.”
His chin tilts with surprise, and my cheeks flush with embarrassment. It sounds like I Googled him again.
“I read about the Banks Resort and Luxury Hotels while we were in New Orleans. There was a book in the living room.”
He smiles, the usual glint of aversion missing. “My great grandad founded the company. He had no money, but he had a small farm, and so he paid men by giving their families food so they could build the first hotel, which was made exclusively for women and children as a shelter for the first decade. People could stay if they helped each other—watched the children, taught them to read, write, and cook.”
“That’s amazing.”
He nods. “It was important to him to give back because he’d grown up as an orphan, and he wanted somewhere for them to stay that was safe. That site is still an orphanage, but my great granddad was so impressed with his crew that he hired them to build a second location and turned it into a hotel. He'd planned on selling it, and splitting the profits with his men and letting someone else run the hotel because he hadn't the first clue, but then people started staying there, and he began turning a profit. One of the guys who’d helped build the two locations suggested he keep it to employ more people, and he did, writing the dozen men and their families into the ownership with him.”
“Do they still own it?”
Tyler shakes his head. “No, by the time he opened a second hotel, he was drowning in debt, and the others all jumped ship, assuming he’d sink.”
“Wow.”
He nods. “He gambled everything and nearly lost it all, but he made it.”
“That’s quite the history.”
“It’s a part of our family—a big part. I grew up in the hotels, and for a while, I thought maybe I wanted to do my own thing—be my own person—but in reality, the legacy of these hotels is what I want to continue. I want to be able to continue giving back and finding new ways our foundation can help families and children all around the world.”
And just like that, Tyler Banks confirms what I’ve known all along and have worked to avoid: that aside from his broody and rough exterior, he’s good in a way few are—all the way down to his soul.
16
Tyler
We’ve walked the full length of the Strip on one side, stopping in each casino along the way. We’ve played slots, watched the little free shows, and have posed in front of far too many landmarks by the time my patience thins beyond the point of ignoring it.
Chloe has been mostly quiet, making a point to walk ahead or behind me like she has for the past two years, but today something is different. There’s a change in her, a lack of enthusiasm and humor and vibrancy that has me feeling restless.
“You guys want to go explore, and we’ll meet up with you?” I extend the offer to Cooper, uncertain what his reaction will be.
“Are you sure? You won’t ditch Chloe, right? I mean, don’t tell her this, but I don’t want her wandering around alone.” He eyes another guy who openly checks her out.
“Yeah, no. I figured you and Vanessa might want some time to hang out. I can take Chloe to play poker with me.”
“You’re sure?” He doesn’t voice it, but I can see the hesitancy in his gaze, questioning if this is a good idea because before this trip, Chloe and I have never spent time together without him.
“Positive.”
He grins, turning back to the girls. “Hey, Vanessa. You want to go for a gondola ride?”
Her smile is enough of an answer, but she looks at Chloe, a silent question to ensure she’s okay with it.
Chloe grins, a subtle nod of her head. “Go. Have fun.”
Vanessa spins around, her smile impossibly wide as she and Coop head in the opposite direction.
“Come on,” I say to Chloe.
“What?”
“I’ve got a poker game, and you’re playing.”
Shock has her lips parting. “I wasn’t kidding. I’m not a poker player.”
I shrug. “It’s just for fun. It doesn’t matter if you win or lose.”
Her green eyes pinch with uncertainty. “I don’t think we’re going to play at the same tables.”
Understanding dawns on me: money. “The game’s on me. I already bought your seat.”
She looks like my classmates when a professor announces there’s going to be a pop quiz.
“Chloe, you went out into New Orleans alone, did a ghost hunt, and then got lost in the fucking desert. This is going to be a walk in the park. Hell, I’ll throw in cake.”
She scoffs. “I feel like I should apologize now for losing your money.”
“That’s all right because I plan on winning it back.”
She rolls her eyes, making me smile. This is the side of her that’s been missing all day. “Which casino are we going to?”
“We’ll drive.”
“Is it downtown? My dad said they have a cool light show.”
I shake my head. “It’s a private event.”
Her green eyes narrow. “A private event? Do I want to know?”
“Probably not, but it’s too late now.”
When we pull up to the industrial building once used to make and process sand, Chloe’s looking at the place like the graveyard we toured on the ghost tour. “This is it?”
I nod.
“Is this a joke?” Reluctance tugs her lips into a frown.