Vixen in Vegas (Sinful Novellas) (3 page)

Slowly, a smile spread across my face. It was the thought of seeing him again. Stupid heart. Stupid feelings. Stupid me for letting a man I don’t know get under my skin. “Okay,” I said. I took a deep breath then exhaled slowly. “I’ve got this. It’s a week. Less.”

“That’s my girl,” she said. The tension seemed to dissipate after that. I felt better. I really did. We talked business…all the cool new opportunities for us in Vegas. We talked about the move. We managed to carefully avoid talking about BE.

“Let’s just check into the Venetian while we house hunt. Are you house hunting or are you getting an apartment again?” I asked.

“I’d like to get a house here. What about you? You should probably rent until you and BE figure things out,” she said casually.

There it was. My stomach knotted. “I hate this. I don’t like having my life up in the air. Right now…it is,” I groaned.

Studying me for a moment, she folded her hands in front of her. Then turning her head, she motioned for our server. He must have been nearby because he was beside the table in a heartbeat.

“What can I get you?” He asked with that same smile.

“We’re going to need a brownie sundae. Two spoons. Thanks,” she said.

He scampered off to get the sundae and I gave her a feeble smile. “Wow. I must be in worse shape than I thought,” I said.

When I returned home that night, I walked into the bedroom and left a trail of clothes on the way to the tub. I had splurged some when I updated this house. It had great bones. I loved just about everything about the old place, but I needed to bring it out of the fifties, make it more sellable. So, I gutted the kitchen when there were too many rainy days one spring. I couldn’t get out and take pictures as I had hoped. I didn’t feel like getting wet. I hated umbrellas. That’s why I stayed in…and tugged at a loose piece of wallpaper. I just wanted to know what was under it. Three layers later, I discovered that the sheetrock hadn’t even been primed. The end result was that tore everything out down to the studs, ran a new water line for the fridge, moved gas lines for the stove, installed new plumbing for the dishwasher, and designed my dream kitchen. I had always wanted a farmhouse sink, and now I had one. I had always said I’d try Silestone instead of going with the same boring granite every other home had. Oil rubbed bronze was my finish of choice. Because I needed everything to match…the project just grew from there, until I had matching tile in the bathroom and a nice deep Jacuzzi bath to go with my multi-head shower.

Finally the home felt like my own. I had increased the value immensely while making it more livable. Like I said, real estate was not a risk for me. It made sense. My choices felt right. My decisions came naturally…until now.

That’s why I drew a bath. I soaked as long as I dared while listening to music that poured in from the bedroom. At last, I thought I might be relaxed enough to sleep. So, I did. I went to bed. The exhaustion had taken a toll. I fell hard and fast, just like I had for BE.

Soon, I found myself in this nightmare. I don’t know how it started. I don’t remember all of it. What I do remember is that BE never showed. I waited for him. I waited and refused to leave. I was completely pathetic. The gondolas closed. The hotel told me that I couldn’t sleep there that I had to have a room. I did have a room, but I was afraid of missing him. What if he showed up and I wasn’t there? There was no way for him to find me. None. We had no phone numbers. We had no emails. We couldn’t be in touch. This…loving him…was the scariest thing I had ever done.

When I woke with a start, I felt it. My heart hurt. There was this overwhelming sadness that had taken hold. It was too much. My eyes were watering. Okay…fine. They were tears. Happy? I was crying. What the hell was I crying over? It was stupid. I was stupid. Never would I let a man make me feel this way, all scared and weak.

Grabbing for my phone, I sent Jolie a quick text.

Me: I’m done with this. I’ll go to Vegas when I feel like it. If I bump into him, cool. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. Talk to you in the morning.

Then I slammed my phone down on the nightstand. I threw my legs over the side of the bed. It was 4am. It was so ridiculously early…or late, depending upon the time zone. My bathrobe was lying at the foot of the bed, right where I left it after the bath. Slipping into it, I headed out to the kitchen. I didn’t know what I wanted, really, but this seemed like the kind of moment in the movies where the sad, lonely pathetic chick would get all introspective over a cup of tea. I could get into that.

The water was just starting to boil when my phone rang. I rushed to the bedroom because…well, how often does a phone ring jut after 4am? It could be an emergency. It could be a prank call. Or, according to the picture that glowed on my screen, it could be Jolie calling to cheer me up. That warmed me instantly.

“Hey, girl,” I said, all out of breath from my sprint for the phone. You may recall, I am not a jogger.

“Hey, sexy,” he breathed into the phone.

It took me a minute to process just whom I was speaking to. Then the tears started. Actually, it was more of a waterfall effect. Then came the snot. “Oh my god! It’s YOU! And you’re on Jolie’s phone!” I started sniffling while I wiped away the tears and tried my best to hold myself together.

“Yes, babe. It’s me. Jolie called me. It’s a three way. You know. Again,” he joked.

I giggled.

“Are you crying?” He asked concerned.

“No,” I lied. “Must be a cold.”

“Good, I don’t want you crying, especially when I can’t be there to comfort you.” He spoke soothingly into the phone and it reminded me of all those nights snuggled in his arms, talking, and making love. “What’s going on? One day apart and you’ve already decided not to meet me?” He asked.

My chest constricted. It hurt so much. My voice caught in my throat. “I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never done this before,” I whispered hoarsely.

“What? You’ve never made plans a week in advance? You’ve never moved?” He asked questions he already knew the answers to just to make me think.

“I’ve never been in love,” I admitted. “I’m scared of losing me to be with you.” I was silent after that admission. It took a lot for me to share that.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better…I don’t make a habit of falling in love. I tried it once. It didn’t go the way I expected. I’ve been a little gun shy ever since. For you, I’d take a bullet. You are a once in a lifetime kind of love,” he said quietly. “Promise me, you’ll meet me.”

This conversation was what I needed. Jolie had found the perfect way to soothe my soul and settle my nerves. No wonder she was my BFF. “Hmmm. I suppose I could promise you,” I began playfully, “but what good are promises with you? Here we are, talking on the phone…”

“I’ll have you know I thought this through. I’ve broken no rules.
You
don’t have my name or my contact information. Jolie does. So there.” He chuckled at his own cleverness.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “And you think this information is safe with Jolie? You think I couldn’t get it from her if I wanted?” I asked.

His deep sexy voice responded, “Yes, that is precisely what I think. Jolie loves you. Jolie even seems to be rather fond of me and she thinks we make a phenomenal couple. So let’s stick to our rules for now. And when I see you on Saturday, you’ll discover what a big, bad rule breaker I am. Just wait for me until then. If one of us needs to, we have Jolie to reach out for us.” He was silent for a moment. So was I as I considered all he had said. “I love you, baby,” he said. “Saturday, I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Saturday,” I murmured. “I’m going to rock your world.”

“Babe,” he said seriously, “you already have.”

That call was all it took. That one call was all I needed to wipe away what could have been a long miserable week of lingering doubts. After that, everything fell into place. The realtor came on Monday to inspect the house.

“I think I could easily sell this house for $225,000,” she said excitedly.

“Well, I was hoping you would be willing to rent it for the time being. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone and I don’t want to have to go house hunting if I’m only going to return in a couple of years,” I explained.

Her disappointment was evident, but it was my house and my decision. In the end she agreed to manage the property in my absence. Just as I had done four times before, I set up electronic payments. And just like before, I would be making a nice little monthly profit from this property. Shoot, I technically earned enough from my current homes to pay for an apartment or home of my choosing. That felt amazing.

The movers arrived on Wednesday. I had already sorted out my clothes, delivered some items to Goodwill. That’s what I love about moving. It’s an excuse to downsize, to give back, and to clean out. I need that on a regular basis. Most people do. Luckily, moving makes that happen.

Working with Craigslist, I had already managed to unload some of the bigger items, like my spare microwave and all the furniture in my guest bedroom. I sold my riding lawnmower. What? You thought I pushed a mower around? Ha! At the same time, I didn’t become financially secure by spending frivolously. So, I bought a used riding lawnmower. It paid for itself the first year. Do you have any idea how long the mowing season is when living in Raleigh? Long. Unimaginably long. Disgustingly long. Sweaty, sticky, miserably long. In the north, we had three months of bad skiing. In the south, we have three months of no mowing.

By the end of the day Wednesday, my house was empty. I had the maid service come and give it the massive once over. A one time cleaning job is not a frivolous expense. It is a smart investment if my time could be better spent elsewhere. I needed to be on the road.

While the maids went to work in the house, I stepped out and sat on the front steps. Within minutes, I had Jolie on the phone. She sounded happy and exhausted.

“What’s up?” She asked with a sigh.

“How’s your move going?” I asked.

“Well, the apartment Nazis will be here in an hour to inspect the place and decide if I get my deposit back. This place is immaculate. If I don’t there will be hell to pay. How about you?” She sounded much more relaxed than she did initially.

“It’s all good on my end. I am ready to leave as soon as the cleaners head out. You want to start out tonight? I think it’s stupid to pay for a hotel here,” I said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Sure, why not?” Jolie said. “You’re driving, right? I sent my car off with the movers. We always use your SUV for road trips…” Her voice trailed off.

“Of course!” I exclaimed happily. “See you in a couple of hours.”

Thankfully, we were on the same page. We had broken the trip up into three legs. We decided that it made no sense to try to drive straight through. We’d be miserable and exhausted. That was no way to feel when I finally saw BE again. Just thinking about that meeting made me smile. Ugh. That man! What had he done to me?

The first leg of the trip was Raleigh to Little Rock. According to the online trip planner, we could expect to be on the road for around thirteen hours. Since we were two single chicks, we opted to stay in bigger cities along the route. I’ve watched a lot of Criminal Minds and I can tell you right now that I felt safer in a big city with a hotel…not a motel. The next part of the move would have us spending twelve hours cooped up in the vehicle as we drove to Albuquerque. Sure, there were other places that we could have stopped, but dammit…I want to blame my tardiness just once on a wrong turn in Albuquerque. Finally, we would leave the next morning and make it to Vegas in eight hours. Since we had agreed upon meeting at 7pm, I had high hopes that Jolie and I could check in, get a nice dip in the pool, maybe split an appetizer, and then I’d get changed before I met him at the gondolas.

Having that plan made me happy. Having Jolie say we could leave tonight? That made me happier. We’d make the most of these three days together. Then, we’d do what we always do…make our own lives where we landed. It was perfect.