Vegas Heat (23 page)

“I say we call it a night,” Billie said.

Fanny picked up her shoes to follow her friends. She waved to the onlookers and grinned.

“Who
was
that man?” Bess asked in the elevator.

“He said his name was Marcus Reed. I met him in the Harem Lounge when I went in to rest my feet. He seemed like a real gentleman.”

“Well, his three-hundred-dollar shoes and thousand-dollar suit are ruined. He didn’t seem to mind,” Billie said, a thoughtful look on her face.

“I have a feeling I’m going to be in the morning papers,” Fanny said.

“Do you care?” Bess asked.

“Too late now,” Fanny said. “They’ll probably call me the Mermaid of Babylon or something equally silly. Ash will throw a fit.”

“Life goes on,” Billie said, the same thoughtful look still on her face.

“Okay, let’s have some coffee while we go through the personnel files. Tomorrow is another long day.”

Fanny snuggled beneath the flannel sheets. It dawned on her, just as she was drifting off to sleep, that she could get up out of bed and turn the air conditioning higher. She adjusted the thermostat and climbed back into bed just as the telephone rang.
Please, God, let it be Simon. Please
. But it was her ex-husband’s voice on the other end of the phone.

“Ash, why are you calling me at quarter to four in the morning? You are the last person in the world I want to talk to right now. Furthermore, you said you were walking away and you didn’t care what happened. You’re calling to find out what happened, right?”

“Wrong, as usual. I just wanted to see how you were. I used to wind down about this time every night. It will get easier as time goes on. I think I really called to thank you. I don’t suppose that means anything to you. How is Simon taking it?”

Fanny felt her throat constrict. “Simon won’t be joining me here in these sumptuous surroundings which really aren’t so sumptuous right now. I smashed up the place last night, Ash. Then I turned the power off.”

“Way to go, Fanny.”

“Tonight some guy from the Harem Lounge tossed me over his shoulder and stood me up in one of the pools because my feet hurt. Someone took pictures. I’ll probably make the morning papers, so be advised.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Sure. My feet feel better, too. No one knows how to work the generators. Perhaps you should tell me how to start them.”

“There’s an On/Off switch. You turn On and
voilà
. You got light. I would have thought you could figure that out. When the generators are working, they only juice the first three floors.”

“I didn’t try. Your people made it sound mysterious. They said you were the only person who knew how they worked.”

“I didn’t want anyone messing around with them. One klutz, and three million bucks would have been shot to hell. Run that business about Simon by me again.”

“I said he wants no part of this. He won’t be joining me.”

“So what’s the big deal? You can go up there weekends or he can come down to Vegas. Constant togetherness in a marriage causes it to erode. I’m glad you made it through the first day.”

“Oh, yeah. I even called a meeting. Do you want to know how it turned out?”

“No. Listen, I hear Polly whimpering. I want to get to her before Sunny wakes up. She had an elevator put in for the two of us. Is that something or what?”

“Yes. That’s something. Take care of your granddaughter, Ash.”

“She takes six ounces. You should hear her burp!”

“Good-bye, Ash.” There was no response.

Fanny buried her head in the pillow and sobbed. “You’re dying, and you’re finally happy. How am I ever going to understand something like that? I don’t wish you ill, Ash, truly I don’t. Just take good care of Sunny and the kids. When you can’t to do it anymore, I’ll step in if she lets me.”

Damn, she was wide-awake now.

Fanny picked her way through the debris in the living room on her way to the kitchen, where she brewed a pot of coffee.

What are you doing, Simon? Are you awake? Of course you are. I’m sitting here thinking of you and I know you’re sitting on the glider thinking of me. If it wasn’t so tragic, it would be funny. Change your mind, Simon. Maybe this won’t be forever. If we love each other, we should be able to make it work. I cannot desert my family no matter how much I love you. I just can’t. A man flirted with me tonight, Simon. I enjoyed his attention. Oh, Simon, what’s going to happen to us?

Careful not to make any noise, Fanny made toast. She really didn’t want or need the coffee. She was already one big jangling nerve.

Fanny leaned her head into the palm of her hand. She stared at the stark white refrigerator. She thought about her husband and her family. She wished she was young again, back in Shamrock, Pennsylvania, knowing what she knew now. Such a foolish thought. She thought about Sallie; she always thought about her mother-in-law when she reminisced. No matter how hard she tried, no matter what she did or didn’t to do, Sallie’s life paralleled her own.

Fanny’s thoughts took her backward in time to the day her father-in-law had his stroke and Sallie went to Devin Rollins to break off their twenty-year-long affair. Devin had pleaded with Sallie to no avail. With his love lost to him he’d committed suicide that very evening. Sallie gave up her life to take care of Philip, and, in the end, her guilty, sick devotion to a man she didn’t love had killed her. Now, Fanny thought, she was doing the exact same thing, following in Sallie’s footsteps. She screamed her despair, banging her head on the glass-topped table.

Bess and Billie leaped from their beds to race to the kitchen. “What happened?” they asked in unison. They listened to Fanny babble incoherently, their eyes wide with disbelief.

“Don’t you see, no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, it always comes back to Sallie and me. It’s almost as if she cloned me when I wasn’t looking. I don’t know how to break the chain. Just look at the similarities. I’m taking over for Ash, doing something I absolutely hate, because he’s dying. Sallie gave up Devin to devote her life to Philip, out of guilt. We all know I’m giving up Simon for the same reason. It’s never going to end. Never!”

Billie and Bess dropped to their knees. “It isn’t the same thing, Fanny,” Billie said gently.

“Oh, Fanny, please listen, Billie is right. Sallie wasn’t divorced. You are. Sallie didn’t remarry. You did. Sallie didn’t have a daughter with a progressive disease. Devin committed suicide because he was a weak man. There is nothing about Ash that is weak. Ash has taken the horns of his bull and he’s dealing with it the only way he knows how. All he asked of you was to take over his job. It’s totally different, Fanny.”

“This is a new time, a new place. You hate this business, Sallie loved it. That alone should tell you something. Sallie was locked into a situation of her own making. She wasn’t smart enough to climb out of the trap. She gave up. We all loved her, but that doesn’t make what she did right. You haven’t given up on Simon. He has to be man enough to recognize the sacrifice you’re making for your family, recognize that he loves you. If he chooses, and choose is the right word, Fanny, and does not accept it, then he isn’t the man you thought he was. Do you agree, Bess?”

“One hundred percent,” Bess said.

“How can a person exist twenty-four hours a day doing something he or she hates with a passion? It can’t be emotionally healthy. What’s going to become of me?”

“If you go into something with a negative attitude, everything you do will be negative. When things are at their worst, they have to get better. Jump into it, embrace it, and remember our goal. Think of this as opening-night jitters. Bess and I are here for you. I’m staying for a full month because my wonderful guy recognizes that I need a separate life. Bess is going to be right here with you all the time. If you falter, we’ll pick you up. It’s up to you to do the rest, and you can do it. Right now you’re still smarting over Simon’s attitude, and the way your marriage was the past two years. You’ve committed, but you haven’t committed one hundred percent. When you do that, you don’t look back. It will be whatever it’s meant to be. Let’s go back to bed now,” Billie said.

Fanny allowed herself to be led back to bed. “What would I do without you two?”

“You’d do just fine. We’re just moral support.” Bess smiled. “Do you want us to tell you a story or sing you a bedtime song?”

“Only if it has a happy ending,” Fanny said, punching at her pillow.

“No guarantees, Fanny,” Billie said softly. She turned out the light and closed the door.

Fanny drifted into sleep. Her dreams weren’t of her ex-husband or of her husband. They were of a dark-haired, dark-eyed man splashing water on her as goldfish tickled her feet.

In the room down the hall, Billie kicked off her slippers. “I don’t see a happy ending to this chapter in Fanny’s life. What do you see, Bess?” Billie’s voice was so fretful-sounding, Bess punched at her pillow as though she was pummeling dough in preparation for making bread.

Bess nodded. “Who was that man in the pool? I saw the way he looked at Fanny. You wait and see, he’s coming back. Fanny’s vulnerable right now.” She punched the pillow again, so hard that feathers sailed upward. “I would have thought Ash Thornton was a foam-rubber man.”

Billie reached out for one of the feathers. “Maybe it’s an omen of some kind. I believe in stuff like that. Do you, Bess? I can’t sleep. I’m too wide-awake now.”

“Me too. Billie, all that stuff we told Fanny before . . . did we lie? It’s getting downright spooky. Fanny’s life really does parallel Sallie Thornton’s. Sometimes I think Sallie choreographed the whole thing and she’s . . . up there saying, yes, no, this is wrong, this is right, do this, don’t do that. Am I nuts?”

“Well, if you are, then I am too, because I feel the same way. What we have to do is convince Fanny it isn’t so.”

“That makes us traitors,” Bess murmured.

“I prefer the word friends looking out for another friend. We need to get some sleep. Tomorrow, today really, isn’t going to be much better than yesterday. Our first order of the day should be getting that living room cleaned up. Maybe Fanny will let us decorate this place. If I had free rein here, I could turn this penthouse into something Fanny would never want to leave. Maybe that’s not good, though.”

“For now, it’s wonderful. Billie, who was that man? He was no ordinary customer, was he?”

Billie was quiet for so long, Bess repeated her question.

“I think he’s Fanny’s true destiny. If that sounds corny, I’m sorry. When I saw the way he looked at her I got goose bumps. Look at my arms, just talking about him gives me the chills. We need to go to sleep. Fanny’s private life is not our business. I’m already spooked, so let’s not talk about it anymore, okay?”

“Okay. He had a sense of humor. I like that in a man. Simon takes life too seriously. Ash doesn’t take life seriously enough. In my opinion the Thornton men are misfits. I always said that.”

Billie snorted. “It’s in the genes. The two Coleman men I knew were misfits, too. It’s Fanny’s and my infusion of blood that made our kids the people they are.
Good night, Bess. ”

“Night, Billie.”

Simon stroked Daisy’s head as he rocked back and forth. “I’m going to miss you, little girl. Tootsie and Slick are going to miss you, too. All your gear is packed up,” he said, a catch in his voice. He stared off into space as the little dog snuggled in his arms.

Off in the distance he heard the sound of a car. Simon’s head jerked upright. His shoulders slumped when he saw the military style jeep being driven by the mailman.

“Special Delivery, Mr. Thornton. You have to sign for it or I would have stuck it in the box at the end of the road.”

“Thanks, Clyde,” Simon said as he signed his name with a flourish.

“Looks like another nice day. How’s Mrs. Thornton?”

“Fine, Clyde.”
Go already so I can see if this is from Fanny. Please, let it be from Fanny
. Simon tortured himself for another five minutes before he looked down at the address on the heavy manila envelope. It was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Simon Thornton. The sender’s name stood out starkly in heavy black lettering. THE APEX INVESTIGATIVE AGENCY.

Simon tossed the envelope on the floor of the porch. Like he really wanted to know more about his weird family. Colemans, Thorntons, they were all the same. Finding his mother’s brother Josh didn’t seem important in the scheme of things. Let Fanny deal with it.

Things seemed to be coming full circle these days. Fanny had at long last found her mother. It hadn’t made her any happier. If anything, it had made her more unhappy, because she’d been denied the magical moment she’d always dreamed of. Ash and his decision to leave Las Vegas and turn over the casino to Fanny was something he had always known would happen. And now this envelope. More family. More family meant more troubles, more unhappiness.

Simon leaned over to pick up the envelope. He put it in the dog crate. “Time to go, Daisy. Fanny’s waiting for you.”

Simon loaded the kennel and a taped box full of Daisy’s toys, blanket, and leashes in the back of the heavy-duty utility truck, then walked inside the house to call his wife. He wasn’t surprised when the answering machine clicked on. He left his name, the flight number, and the time of Daisy’s arrival. He paused a moment, wondering if he should say something else. He decided there was nothing to add and hung up the phone.

“Let’s go, Daisy.”

Fanny slipped onto a thickly padded barstool in the Harem Lounge. Billie and Bess joined her five minutes later. “I won two hundred dollars,” Bess said, sitting down next to Fanny.

“And I lost fifty dollars,” Billie lamented.

“Tea, ladies?” the bartender queried. The women nodded.

“How do your feet feel, Fanny?” Bess asked.

“They’re numb, but the lower heels help. Wow! Would you look at that? I wonder who the lucky recipient is?” Fanny said as three uniformed young men walked past the bar carrying vases of yellow roses.

“Somebody must have won big tonight and they’re paying off their good-luck charm. Probably one of the showgirls kissed the dice or something equally stupid,” Billie said.

The women watched as the uniforms turned about and reentered the Harem Lounge. “Mrs. Thornton, these are for you,” one of the young men said, setting the flowers down on the teakwood bar.

“For me! Are you sure?”

Billie unobtrusively looked at the watch on her wrist and gave a slight nod to Bess as Fanny removed the small card from the holder nestled in one of the arrangements.

“Can you imagine Simon doing something so sweet? He knows I adore yellow roses. There must be six dozen of them. On the other hand, maybe they’re from Ash, you know, that good-luck thing. Should we make a bet? I think they’re from Simon. He left a message you know. I’m just so glad he sent Daisy. That shows he’s thinking about me. Billie, who do you think sent them?”

“Simon or the kids.”

“Bess?”

“I agree with Billie. Will you open the card already before we die of curiosity?”

Fanny ripped at the card.
Please let them be from Simon. Please, please, please
. Fanny stared at the card. Her voice was flat when she said, “We’re all wrong. The flowers are from Marcus Reed. The man who put me in the pool last night.”

“Is there a message?” Bess asked.

“Yes. It says, ‘Thank you for the most enjoyable thirty minutes of my life.’ ”

Billie’s voice was almost as flat as Fanny’s when she said, “Isn’t this about the same time as it was last evening when you went wading?”

Fanny looked at the clock over the bar. “I think so. What should I do with them?”

“What do you want to do with them?” Billie asked.

“If they were from Simon, I’d sit here and stare at them for the rest of the night. However, since they aren’t from Simon I guess I’ll just leave them here. The bartender can put them on the tables. They’re gorgeous, aren’t they?”

“Magnificent. Costly, too. That guy must have some bucks,” Bess said.

“I’m flattered,” Fanny said. “Things seem to be slowing down. Ash always said the casino’s busiest time was around midnight. Do you suppose something fantastic is going on at one of the other casinos?”

“You would have heard if there was. Each casino has its spies. Sometime, you just have an off night.”

“I had an idea a little while ago,” Fanny whispered. “Do you remember when I gave you the tour and we opened that small empty suite next to the Spa Shop? Think about this, ladies. We decorate it to fit our theme and hire a seer. Fortune-teller, whatever you call those people. We might even be able to hire a
real
psychic. We’ll give her a mystical-sounding name of some sort. It could be a lot of fun. Women absolutely love that kind of thing. I always read my horoscope, don’t you? Tarot card readings and individual astrology charts go for hundreds of dollars. We could try to locate one of those hands-on people who touches something of yours, closes her eyes, and tells you about your life. It would be a tremendous draw and perfectly in keeping with the theme of Babylon. Billie, you could design us some razzle-dazzle outfits to fit the mood. What do you think?”

“Mega advertising,” Bess said. “Reservations only, to begin with, because she’s booked three months in advance which means you pay her while she does nothing until you generate enough interest. When you have to wait or can’t get something, you want it all the more. It can’t be shoddy. It has to be a real class act. When it comes right down to it, it is an act,” Bess said.

“I just love harem pants, veils, beads, and bangles. My mother always said I was a gypsy in my other life. I’ll make you an outfit that will blow your socks off,” Billie promised. There was such enthusiasm in Billie’s voice, Fanny laughed.

“We’re cookin’, ladies. Whoever said this was a man’s business was wrong.”

“My ex-husband said that, Bess. Three more hours and we can call it a night. I want to go upstairs to check on Daisy. I’ll be right back.”

Fanny’s jaw dropped when she stepped from the elevator. Shoe boxes, one on top of the other, were piled every which way outside her door. She knew immediately who they were from. She struggled to count the boxes and finally gave up. She wondered what kind of taste
he
had and how
he
knew her shoe size. Charles Jourdan. He must have looked inside her shoes when
he
was holding them for her. Fanny opened several boxes and nodded approvingly. She couldn’t accept these shoes. The question was, where and how was she to return them?

Daisy ran to meet her the moment she opened the door. She fondled the little dog as she pressed the play button to hear her messages. Her eyebrows shot upward when she heard Marcus Reed’s voice. There was no hi, no hello, no this is Marcus Reed. “I’m just calling to tell you my sister tells me, and she claims to know everything, that if you soak your feet in Epsom salts and liquid peppermint, your feet will heal and feel wonderful. Both ingredients can be purchased at any drugstore. I’d like us to have dinner the next time I’m in Las Vegas. Lunch is good and so is breakfast if your schedule is tight. Good night, Fanny Thornton.”

Fanny sat down with a thump, Daisy cradled in her arms. “Didn’t he see my wedding ring? He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would hit on a married woman. I did notice that he wasn’t wearing a ring. Women notice things like that, Daisy. What am I going to do with those shoes? The flowers were a nice gesture. The shoes are something else.” Daisy yawned. “Guess I woke you, huh? I’ll take you for a long walk tomorrow and find some grass for you. It’s a different kind of life here.”

Fanny stared at the answering machine. She could call Simon and thank him for sending Daisy. She placed the call and held her breath while she waited for Simon to pick up the phone. “Simon, it’s Fanny. Thanks for sending Daisy. I just came upstairs to check on her. It’s late, I thought you might be sleeping.”

“No. I was sitting on the front porch. I saw the paper today, Fanny.”

Fanny sucked in her breath. She hadn’t imagined that she would make news in a small California paper. “It was one of those things that just happened. My feet were burning and I could feel a corn starting to form on my little toe.”

“You looked like you were having a good time. Who was the man?”

“Somebody in the casino. He left right afterward. I heard him say he had to catch a plane.”

“I guess you’re starting to like the bright lights and the noise.”

“No. I came up with an idea tonight, though.” She told him about her plans for the empty suite next to the Spa Shop. When Simon made no comment, Fanny babbled on, not wanting to hang up. “Billie is here for a month and so is Bess. Billie has agreed to decorate Ash’s apartment so I feel comfortable living here. Simon, can you see your way clear to coming here for a long weekend?”

“I can’t, Fanny. I’ll say good night now.”

“Good night,” Fanny whispered to the dial tone ringing in her ears. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Fanny returned to the casino floor in time to hear excited squeals, ringing bells, and shrill whistles. Bess motioned to her. “A grandmother from Edison, New Jersey, just won the hundred-thousand-dollar jackpot on the dollar machine. Here comes the photographer and the floor manager with the IRS forms. Remember how excited we were the night Sallie let us each win a thousand dollars?”

“I remember. I called Simon and he saw today’s paper. He cut me off and said good-night. There was a message on the machine from Mr. Reed and fifty boxes of shoes outside my door.”

“Oh my God!”

“That’s pretty much what I said myself. I can’t even return the shoes because I don’t know where Mr. Reed lives.”

Fanny hugged the grandmother and posed for a photograph before she handed over the check to the speechless blond-haired lady. “If you don’t mind me asking, Mrs. O’Leary, what do you plan to do with your winnings? Readers always want to know things like that.”

“Call me Tootsie, Mrs. Thornton. Help my children, save some, maybe Daniel and I will take a vacation. I might buy a new lawn mower for Danny.”

“What will you get for yourself?”

“I might buy some books. I love to read. I can’t believe this. I’ve been here a whole week and haven’t won a thing. My daughter Mary is going to be so surprised.”

“Enjoy it, Tootsie. And come back and see us again.”

“I will. I absolutely will, and if you ever come to Edison, New Jersey, stop and see us. We’re in the phone book.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

Fanny turned to Billie. “I think we can call it a night.”

“And not a minute too soon,” Bess said.

Fanny yawned, her eyes on the calendar. She’d give anything for twelve uninterrupted hours of sleep. Working the floor at night, sleeping for three or four hours in the early dawn, then working in the office for another four or five hours, snatching a catnap when she could, didn’t make for an alert individual.

“A penny for your thoughts, Fanny,” Bess said. “If it’s any consolation to you, I feel as tired as you look.”

“I forget what fresh air is. We’ve been here four months, Bess. Billie’s been gone a month and Thanksgiving is only four days away.”

“We’ve made progress though,” Bess said. “We’ve managed to weed out all the deadbeats Ash had on his payroll, we’ve hired new people, we stopped the skimming, changed suppliers who were giving the deadbeats kickbacks. On top of all that we work the floor at night and Madam Sarika has turned into a class act. If you really want to take a bow, you’re entitled. The Foundation is up and running. Billie’s made her family’s contribution and Madam Sarika’s money is flowing into the account. We done real good, Mrs. Thornton.”

“I haven’t heard from Simon. Ash never calls. I was hoping Sunny would invite me for Thanksgiving. I hoped against hope that Simon would do the same thing. I called Sage this morning and he let it slip that he, Iris, and Billie are going to Sunrise. They were invited. Do you have any idea how terrible I feel, Bess?”

“Have you called Sunrise?”

“Of course. Several times a week. Sunny says hello, says she’s fine, says the children are fine, her dad is fine, then she hands the phone to Ash, who basically tells me to stop calling because things are under control. He doesn’t want to hear one word about this casino. My daughter and my ex-husband are living in their own world, and it does not include me. Now, what would you do if you were me?”

“I’d stop calling. Fanny, you’re killing yourself and for what? You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You can’t be all things to all people. My daughter is cooking Thanksgiving dinner and we’d love to have you join us. I know Billie invited you to Washington. That’s two offers.”

“I appreciate it, Bess. I’m still hoping Simon will call.”

“Fanny, it’s been four months. It’s time to get your ducks in a row. Stop calling him and leaving messages on his machine. You must have left five hundred by now, and not one was returned. What does that tell you?”

“Hope springs eternal. Maybe I’ll drive to the ranch over Thanksgiving. I could cook a turkey, fix all the trimmings, and . . .”

“And if he isn’t there?”

“I’ll call and leave a message first. If Simon doesn’t want me to make the trip, he’ll call back and tell me. This silence is so unlike Simon. He’s carrying this beyond stubborn. What he’s doing is punishing me. He’s done it before when I did something he considered stepping out of line.”

“I would have blown up three months ago. Men do not have an understanding bone in their bodies. When John starts to act like that I put him in his place right away. He usually thanks me, saying he didn’t think of it that way, whatever that way is. It works for us.”

“Simon has a point.”

“Which is?” Bess said.

“Those first few weeks when we did speak, he didn’t understand how I could be doing something like this for my family when that same family turned their backs on me. I ask myself the same question every day. He doesn’t understand that I have to earn back Sunny’s respect and love.”

“Excuse my language, Fanny, but that’s bullshit.”

“No, it isn’t. I wasn’t there for her. She doesn’t want me anywhere near her or her children. I haven’t told anyone in the family about the medical rehab center we’re going to build. They aren’t interested in anything I do. They’ll view it as a ploy to get back into their lives.”

“Oh, Fanny, you don’t know that.”

“Yes, Bess, I do know that. I’m okay with it. Each day it gets a little easier. The anger is starting to dissipate. Simon is a different story. I could make a life for us here if he would agree. I’m more than willing to give us another chance. Why is it women bend where men are concerned and men trench in?”

“It’s the way it is. I hope you weren’t expecting magical insight.”

Fanny’s voice was weary yet stubborn. “If Simon truly loved me, we could work something out. He’s unwilling even to talk to me. That, Bess, tells me more than I want to know.”

“Time will take care of everything. One day at a time. Look on the bright side, Fanny. Every day you get a dozen yellow roses. Four months is a long time for a person to send roses to someone he only met for thirty minutes. It’s so mysterious.”

“There’s nothing mysterious about it at all. Mr. Reed left a standing order at the florist. He probably forgot all about me. As you said, four months is a long time.”

“What did you do with the shoes?”

Fanny snorted. “I’ve been wearing them.” Bess laughed.

“It’s kind of quiet this afternoon. Go upstairs, get Daisy, and we’ll go for a long walk. We’ll get an ice cream on the way back. Both of us need some fresh air.”