Authors: Christy Gissendaner
Cait groaned as she picked up the clothing she’d packed. A short denim skirt and a pink tube top was not the outfit she’d envisioned getting married in. Hopefully her luggage would arrive well before their scheduled ceremony at the chapel. If not, she would have to hope that her credit card company would allow for one more purchase. Buying a dress would put her over the limit, which was something she didn’t want to do if she didn’t have to.
She glanced down as she kicked off her shoes. At least the pink heels would match. There was always a silver or, in her case, pink lining.
Cait stripped, leaving her discarded clothes where they fell, and headed to the bathroom. A heart-shaped Jacuzzi tub, large enough for two, beckoned. It was a scene designed for seduction, but one she would not be partaking of apparently.
Cait turned on the taps and adjusted the temperature. Curls of steam rose from the water. The mirror quickly fogged up, but she brushed her hand across it to leave a strip large enough for her to view her face. While the tub filled, she plaited her shoulder-length red hair and pinned it on top of her head.
She grabbed a towel and set it on the counter before stepping into the tub and sinking beneath the warm water. The cool porcelain tiles of the bathroom’s floor had chilled her toes, so she lifted her foot and held it beneath the stream from the faucet.
Ah, heavenly.
Once the tub had filled, she turned off the taps with her big toe and settled back to enjoy her bath.
Cait closed her eyes with a sigh and allowed the water to soothe her tired muscles. Her fingers swirled in the water as she hummed a melody beneath her breath.
This time tomorrow, she would be married.
Cait held up her hand and opened her eyes to gaze at her ring. It was beautiful. The square-cut diamond and platinum band were exactly what she would’ve picked out for herself if she’d been given a choice. Simon’s taste was impeccable.
She squealed with happiness. Tomorrow was going to be perfect.
Cait decided to go back downstairs and insist that Simon take her to dinner. She reached for the soap and washed in a hurry. The tiles were slippery as she stepped out of the tub, so she tiptoed her way back to the mirror as she toweled dry.
She unpinned her hair, although Simon claimed he preferred it up, and applied a light swipe of lipstick and mascara. She wanted to look natural tonight—plus, with the clothes she had to wear, she didn’t want to be mistaken for a prostitute.
What in the world had possessed her to choose a tube top as her emergency clothing?
After she was dressed in her regrettable hooker clothes, Cait left the room and rode the elevator back to the lobby. She entered the casino and looked for Simon, but he was not where she had left him.
With a frown, she searched the surrounding bank of machines for his familiar blond head, but she didn’t see him. Where could he have gone?
Cait cursed herself for putting her cell phone in her luggage instead of stashing it in her carry-on. Now she couldn’t even call Simon to see where he was. She supposed she would have to have him paged. There was no help for it. Simon would be upset to be paged like an errant child, but the casino was large, and Cait could wander around all night and never run into him.
“Excuse me.” Cait flagged down an attendant wearing the distinctive purple jacket of the hotel. “Where would I go to have a person paged?”
“As opposed to an animal?” the kindly old man joked. “I’m just teasing. It’s right up ahead.”
The man pointed out the player’s club area. Cait thanked him and tottered away on her too-tall heels to perform the embarrassing task. She cut her eyes to the right and left to make sure no one was looking at her and thinking she really was a prostitute.
She passed a large circular bar that took up the center of the casino floor. Cait paused to admire the lighting behind the frosted glass design and then continued past it, when she heard Simon’s distinctive laughter. When her fiancé was truly amused, which wasn’t often, his laugh reminded her of the bark of a seal.
Cait stopped and spun around on her heel to examine the crowd at the bar. Several older gentlemen sat at the counter, playing video poker as they sipped on their drinks. A few middle-aged couples stood in the center chatting.
Then Cait saw him. He was standing near a table with his arm around a tiny blonde. As she watched, Simon leaned in close to the woman and whispered in her ear. Whatever he said must’ve been funny, because the lady tossed back her head and laughed, which was odd since Simon never cracked jokes.
The lady’s red fingernails …
talons really
… hooked around Simon’s tie and pulled him in close.
Cait sucked in a breath.
What in the hell?
She wanted to look away but couldn’t tear her eyes from the scene.
Instead of pulling away like she expected him to, Simon smiled at the blonde and lowered his head. A choked cry escaped Cait as he kissed her, a real honest-to-goodness kiss. Not a friendly peck or kiss on the cheek like you would give an old friend.
Her fiancé, the man she’d eloped to Vegas with, had his tongue halfway down the throat of another woman the day before their wedding.
A rage unlike any she had ever known overtook Cait. She strode forward, cursing when one of her heels twisted, and headed straight for Simon and the hussy he’d found.
Her fiancé and the blonde woman continued to kiss, oblivious to the crowd around them. Hell, an earthquake could rock Vegas, and Cait doubted they would even come up for air. She could only hope an abyss would open beneath their immoral feet and swallow them whole.
“Ahem,” Cait cleared her throat in a loud, dramatic manner.
She tapped Simon on his shoulder, but he didn’t stir. She tapped harder, and he finally lifted his head. The expression he made when he realized who’d disturbed him was almost comical. If it wasn’t for the fury, she probably would’ve laughed.
“Caitlyn!” Simon’s face paled beneath his airbrushed tan. “It’s not what it looks like!”
“Oh, I would say it’s
exactly
what it looks like.” Cait dismissed Simon with a flip of her hair and turned to his companion. “You may not realize it, but the man you’re playing tonsil hockey with is my fiancé.”
The blonde girl lifted an overly plucked eyebrow. “Oh, really? He wasn’t acting like your fiancé a few moments ago.”
Cait’s mouth fell open. “Seriously?”
She turned back to Simon with a shocked expression. “Do you mean to tell me that
this
,” she paused to wave her hand toward the blonde tramp, “is worth losing
me
? Do I need to remind you that you proposed to me this morning?”
Simon’s expression reminded Cait of a floundered fish as his mouth opened and closed several times in quick succession. He looked down at the floor as he spoke. “I’ve been thinking about that, Caitlyn, and I’m not sure I’m ready to get married yet.”
Cait’s heart leapt into her throat and threatened to cut off her air supply. “Excuse me?”
Simon held up his hands and gave her a pleading look. “Don’t be mad, Caitlyn, but I’m not sure you’re the one.”
She drew back as if he’d slapped her. “Not the one? Have you lost your fucking mind, Simon? You’re going to throw away our relationship just because of some slut you met, what, thirty minutes ago?”
“Mandy is not a slut, Cait.”
Cait laughed, but it lacked any trace of humor, as she glanced at the overly made-up Mandy whose breasts were about to fall out of her low-cut blouse. “I beg to differ with you.”
Mandy stepped between them and flapped her hands in a shushing motion. “I think you two should lower your voices. People are staring.”
Cait leveled a cold stare at Mandy and held up a hand as she asked for clarification. “Excuse me. You don’t want us to make a scene, yet you didn’t seem to mind people staring when you practically had sex with my fiancé in public.”
“It was just a kiss,” Simon interjected.
“Just a kiss?” Cait’s gaze swung back to Simon. “You don’t fucking kiss someone else, Simon, when you are engaged to me!”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” Mandy turned to Simon and reached for his hand.
Cait laughed again. “Oh, believe me; he certainly
does
have to explain himself.”
Mandy shook her head and tutted. “Come on, honey. Let’s leave.”
“Honey?” Cait screeched, but then she registered the rest of Mandy’s words. “Leave?”
Cait took Simon’s other hand and tugged him toward her. “You are not leaving with her, Simon.”
What ensued was a game of tug and war with Simon as the rope. In the end, it was Simon who determined the winner.
“Caitlyn, I think we should break up.”
Simon’s bags were gone when Cait returned to the suite.
She stared at the empty spot where his luggage had been as shock washed over her. He had really done it. He’d left with that hussy, Mandy.
After Simon broke up with her, Cait stood there in shock as he walked away with Mandy. She needed air, so she went outside to breathe in the cool early evening breeze. She couldn’t have been gone more than fifteen minutes, and Simon and his bags were already gone. Cait dialed down to the front desk and was informed Simon hadn’t cancelled the reservation. At least he’d had the decency to move to another hotel and leave her with a room.
Cait wasted no time in going to the wet bar and pulling open the fridge that sat on the counter. She selected several tiny, expensive bottles of rum and placed them on the counter. She looked at her selection of alcohol. She reached back inside to pull out every five dollar bottle of water from the fridge and added it to the growing pile on the counter.
Simon always ranted at the cost of bottled water, and the suite was reserved to his credit card. The least he deserved was an astronomical amount charged to him, courtesy of the fiancée he’d abandoned in Vegas.
Cradling a bottle of rum in both hands, Cait sank down in the armchair placed before the room’s floor-to-ceiling window and stared out at the blinking lights of the Vegas Strip. Her hotel was situated near one end of the Strip, so the view was gorgeous.
It was only dusk. When night fell, the view would be even more amazing.
Cait lifted a bottle to her lips and took a deep swallow. The high-end rum burned a trail of fire straight to her empty stomach. Unless she counted the small bag of peanuts she’d had on the plane, she hadn’t eaten that day.
Cait made a mental note to order dinner, but first she would finish a couple of these bottles. The numbing effect of alcohol was needed to get through this night.
Cait’s throat ached with unshed tears, but she refused to cry for that heartless bastard. How could she have been so blind as to believe Simon when he said he loved her? The signs had been there all along, his disinterest in her hopes, and the cold way he treated her fears.
Cait tossed an empty bottle at the trash can but missed by about two feet. She snorted at her effort. Basketball had never been her game.
Cait left the trash lying where it fell. It wasn’t like there was a clean freak in her life anymore. She didn’t have to worry about being neat, so there was an upside to this disaster at least.
She opened the second bottle and sipped on it as night fell. The sky outside her window turned dark, and more lights appeared on the Strip. The view was indeed gorgeous, but Cait’s image was reflected on the window and ruined her appreciation of the scene.
She looked about as miserable as she felt.
The room’s phone rang, and Cait shot it a glare hot enough to melt stone. It was probably Simon calling to apologize. If so, she didn’t want to hear it. The phone went silent, but a couple minutes later it started up again.
Cait sighed. It could be something important, like Simon being run over by a car.
The phone rang several times before she stood and walked over to snatch up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Is this Caitlyn Myers?” A professional-sounding voice asked.
Cait’s heart nearly stopped. She hadn’t been serious about him being run over. “Yes, it is.”
“This is Mary with the airline.”
Cait sank down onto the mattress with a relieved sigh. “Oh. Hi, Mary.”
Mary cleared her throat before she continued speaking. “I regret to inform you, but your luggage was misdirected to China.”
Cait rolled her eyes.
Of course it was
. With the way her luck was going, she wouldn’t be surprised if it ended up in Timbuktu. “What does that mean? Will I be able to get it back?”
“Yes, of course, but regrettably it’ll be several days before it’s returned. Would you like us to send it to you in Las Vegas or forward it to your home address?”
Cait groaned. Could this day get any worse? “Send it to my home address please. I plan to leave Vegas as soon as possible.”
“Yes, ma’am. Please allow me to apologize for the unfortunate mix-up, and I assure you we’re doing everything we can to correct the matter.”
Cait listened with half an ear as Mary droned on with her apologies. “We hope you will continue flying with our airline. And once again, I apologize.”
“No biggie,” Cait replied. “I assure you I have much larger problems on my plate right now.”
“Err … right.” Mary cleared her throat again. “In that case, I hope you have a good evening.”
Cait cut her eyes to the bottles of rum waiting for her on the counter. “I’m not too sure about the
good
part, but I’m going to try.”
After the call was over, Cait stretched across the bed and reached for her wallet. She pulled out her credit card and grabbed the phone again. Mary’s call had reminded her that arrangements needed to be made for an earlier flight home.
She and Simon had planned to spend a week in Vegas, but there was no way she was going to stay for seven days now.
Cait reached the ticketing office, explained her need for a flight home as soon as possible, and was scheduled for an early morning flight the next day.
The ticketing agent rattled off the charges. “Okay, Ms. Myers. We have you scheduled for flight one eighty-one which departs at three a.m. tomorrow. It will be a two hundred and fifty dollar fee to alter the ticket.”