"I'm surprised you don't have a line of the rich and fabulous lining up behind you waiting for their turn." She, of course, was referring to the guests. It was one thing to sleep with his coworkers, but the guests would be leaving. She couldn't help herself in planting that little thought. Not that she was one for enabling his man-whore ways. But as long as he didn't look for her in that line, she was good.
Her brows shot up at the idea of ordering custom made shoes. That would probably set her back a good few pennies. Unless she put them on Petersen's tab. "Would they be Italian loafers Tony? Because if they're for the stage I can totally put them on the Resort tab." She wasn't above spending Petersen's money. Especially since she was wearing the clothes and shoes to entertain his guests. She couldn't help but snort at the idea of anything she did as being 'hot'. "I can't think of anybody here who would be able to do the rumba so I'd be shaking it up all by myself." Unless he knew how, and offered of course.