Page 30 of Conning the Billionaire
Goddammit, that son of a bitch. “Not me. I didn’t check in because it’s not my suite. What was the phone number on the phone with the QR code?”
He told her, and she memorized it. “That’s not my phone number. I have a South Jersey area code.”
“Maybe you got one of those computer VoIP phone numbers and called it in.”
Yeah, she did that all the time. “Where was the reservation made from? I haven’t been out of the tri-state area my whole life.”
Now with a prim smile, the manager tapped the screen again, but worry crept back onto his features. “San Francisco, but that doesn’t prove anything. You might have used a VPN. And you can’t prove that you weren’t in California two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks ago? That license and credit card were uploaded two weeks ago?”
He nodded. “Yes. The last week of September.”
Damn, this con was a thing of beauty. If she’d had the money, she would have paid the hotel just out of appreciation for the scam’s organization. “How long has he been staying here?”
The manager tapped the screen. “A week.”
Jesus H. Fucking— “A week? Jesus! What’s the room rate?”
“Fifteen hundred a night.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! What else did he spend?”
The manager shrugged. “There are room charges for in-room dining, gaming chips, Tiffany and Company, and dining at the casino restaurants.”
Tiffany’s? He’d bought her the earrings and then stuck her with the bill? That asshole. “What restaurants did he eat in?”
He consulted his tablet. “Last night at Angeline.”
“Right. And before that?”
“The night before was at the B Prime Steakhouse.”
The blond Italian had been right there when Kylie had pulled the lesbian breakup con with Rita. He’d been watching her. But for how long?
She asked, “What’s the total?”
“Eighty thousand dollars,” the manager said.
“Eighty—” she gasped. “Eighty—holy shit, are you serious?”
Kylie’s throat closed, and she coughed. No way. No goddamn way. Her chest compressed around her flailing heart, and her lungs fought for air and battered her clenched throat.
The bouncer pounded her on the back. “You okay?”
Kylie gasped, “I’m being framed for a scam that’s not my fault. I didn’t reserve or check into this room.”
“Then why are you here?”
She braced herself on her knees and let the outrage pour out. “I met a guy in the casino last night, and I came upstairs to the suite with him for just this night. I sure as hell haven’t been in this room for a week.”
“But it’s just your word against nothing,” the bouncer said.
“No, it’s not.” Kylie stood up so fast that the bouncer stepped back before she head-butted him in the face. “There’s a surveillance camera in the hallway and another one in the elevator. It’ll show the guy with the entry code on his phone last night, and I assume it’ll show him staying in the room for a week. I wasn’t here.”
“I will check with security. In the meantime, you’re coming with us. You can sit in the security office while we check the footage.”
“Wait a second.”
