“First of all,” Luke said, once again taking the initiative, “I want to congratulate both of you on your inventiveness.”
Cynthia’s eyes widened. “You do? I thought you’d be pissed.”
“I was, until Giselle helped me see that the effort involved was kind of . . . flattering.”
Giselle flinched. “I think what Luke means to say is that he appreciates your efforts to help him understand how much dancing means to you.” She shot a quick glance at Luke and hoped he’d get the message.
Apparently he had, because he nodded. “Exactly. I hadn’t realized before how much you cared about it.”
Cynthia sat up straighter. “That’s because you’re so incredibly dense. I tried to explain this about a hundred times, but you kept blowing me off.”
“You have his attention now, right, Luke?” Giselle gave him an encouraging smile.
“Right.” Swallowing, he focused on his sister. “If you want a job in the Moonbeams lineup, it’s yours.”
Cynthia leaped off the sectional with a shriek and nearly knocked Luke out of his chair as she gave him an enthusiastic hug. “Thank you! That’s awesome! Oh, my God, I can’t believe it! I’m going to be a Moonbeam.” She began twirling in the middle of the room.
She nearly collided with Mr. Thatcher as he came in from the kitchen, rolling a cart loaded with wine, a crusty baguette, and a mouth-watering assortment of cheeses. “Mr. Thatcher! Luke said I could be a Moonbeam dancer! Isn’t that fabulous?”
“Indeed it is, Miss Cynthia.” He pretended to be unaffected when she hugged him, too.
But Giselle saw the emotion in his eyes.
Cynthia returned to her seat and exchanged a high five with Bryce. “One project down, one to go.”
Luke blinked. “You have another agenda? Please tell me it doesn’t have to do with squirt guns and water balloons. My heart can’t take it.”
“Oh, this one’s really simple.” Cynthia reached over and patted Bryce’s knee. “A no-brainer.”
Giselle held her breath and prayed that nothing had changed between Bryce and Cynthia since she’d talked to her brother. She hadn’t picked up any girlfriend-boyfriend vibes from them, but she was under a lot of stress. She could have missed the obvious.
Luke’s jaw tightened. “So what is it?”
“Bryce and I have talked about this a lot, and we both think you should sell Howlin’ at the Moon back to Benedict Cartwright.”
Giselle was stunned. She glanced over at Luke, who seemed equally taken aback. But when she turned her attention to Bryce, he gazed at her with a little half smile.
And she got it. Bryce was still loyal to his heritage, and part of that heritage was wrapped up in this bar known to Weres all over the world. By sheer coincidence, he’d become friends with the sister of the human who’d won that bar, and he’d decided to use his influence with her to try to get it back.
That was, she concluded with some chagrin, more than she’d done. She also had influence with the bar’s new owner, but she’d never once suggested he might want to sell it back. She doubted he would have agreed, but she’d never put the concept on the table. With Bryce’s encouragement, Cynthia had.
Luke had recovered himself. “I’m not selling the bar back to the Cartwrights,” he said. “Harrison’s behavior might not have caused my father to die, but the stress didn’t help any. Dad should have been awarded the Moon in the first place. I had to win it back in a poker game, which is fitting, and now that I have it, I intend to keep it. It’s part of the Dalton legacy now.”
“But that’s not right, either.” Cynthia put her empty wineglass on the coffee table. “The Moon is part of the Cartwright legacy, the first thing Harrison Cartwright built in Las Vegas. It has all kinds of sentimental value for that family, but for you, it’s only about revenge.”
“It’s more than that, Cynthia. Every time I looked at that bar, I remembered how our dad fought with Harrison and how he made himself sick over it. It was like a gnawing pain in my gut, a reminder that our dad is gone.”
Cynthia’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you. I should have, but I didn’t.”
“So you understand why I can’t sell it back to the Cartwrights?”
“Yes, but let me ask you something else. How did you feel when I raided the family photo gallery and swiped a DVD from the vault in order to make my point?”
“Truthfully?” Luke sought Giselle’s gaze as if drawing energy from it. Then he looked over at his sister. “I hated it. The pictures could have been replaced, but I’m not sure there’s a copy of the DVD. Thinking it could have disappeared made me sick to my stomach.”
“I’ll bet that’s how the Cartwrights feel about losing the Moon,” Cynthia said. “It’s a piece of family history, and now it’s gone.”
Luke frowned. “Aren’t you forgetting something? Dad won the Silver Crescent fair and square, and then Harrison Cartwright put our dad through hell before he finally turned it over. I firmly believe the stress is what killed him.”
“That’s entirely possible,” Cynthia said quietly. “And now you have the bar. How does that make you feel?”
“Great!”
Giselle knew his moods well enough to figure out he was bluffing. And she knew his heart, too. He might have thought exacting revenge for his father and ending his own pain at the expense of someone else was a good idea, but the reality might have proved to be quite different.
“Really?” Cynthia’s brow wrinkled. “I find that hard to believe.”
Luke’s jaw tightened. “Believe it. Having a Cartwright property next to the Silver Crescent has been a pain in the ass, both to Dad and me. Now we own it. I couldn’t be happier about that.”
“You don’t look happy,” Cynthia said.
“That’s because you don’t seem to understand why the Daltons deserve to own that bar.”
“I get your motivation, Luke, but you don’t have the time to give that place the personal attention Benedict Cartwright gave it. His personality brought in the customers. Unless you find someone with charisma to run it, you could end up with a losing proposition on your hands.”
“I hope this isn’t leading up to some hidden agenda, like you asking me to hire Landry for that position.”
Bryce stood. “Absolutely not.” He glanced at Giselle. “In fact, maybe my sister and I should make ourselves scarce and let you two work things out. It’s not our business, after all, and we have some things to discuss, anyway.”
Giselle got up. “That’s an excellent idea. Where do you want to go?”
“If I may make a suggestion?” Mr. Thatcher appeared in the living room as if he’d been summoned, which he most definitely had not. But he’d probably been eavesdropping from the kitchen. “I can escort you both down to the Howlin’ at the Moon bar. Even if the two of you have not experienced so much in regard to it, it’s a landmark not to be missed.”
“I’ve seen—” In the nick of time, Giselle caught the look Bryce had thrown her way. There was more to this invitation than visiting a Vegas landmark. “I’d love to go,” she said, and was rewarded by a big smile from her brother.
Luke stood. “You don’t have to leave. Cynthia and I can hash this out later.”
“We’ll be back.” Giselle walked over and touched his arm. “Bryce makes a good point. This is your family business. You and Cynthia need to work this out between the two of you.” She held up her phone. “Text me when you’ve talked it through.”
“Trust me, it won’t take long.” He didn’t look particularly happy that she was leaving, but he didn’t have much choice. He couldn’t order her to stay and participate in the discussion.