Blindfolded Innocence (17 page)

"Tell her to stay in the house, change the locks, and don't answer if he knocks.
 
If he pesters her, call Security.
 
The dues they pay in that gated community should more than cover a security guard intelligent and experienced enough to write a decent police report.
 
First thing Monday we will file an emergency injunction against him.
 
Tell her to relax.
 
Anything he does right now will only help our case.
 
And for god's sake, keep her away from the pool boy!
 
I want us surveilling her day and night, for her protection, but also to keep an eye out for other PIs.
 
I have a feeling they will be trying to catch her in something, and I want to have a head start on them."

"Exactly."

"If you need a good guy call Romanelli.
 
He owes me one."

"You too brother."

He hung up the call and turned to stand, pausing when he saw me in the room.
 
A smile broke out on his face.
 
"Have a nice shower?"

"Amazing.
 
I want to pack that shower up and take it home with me."

"Tomorrow you should try the bath."
 
His voice had turned slightly sexual, and I fought back a blush.

There was a polite knock at the door.
 
Brad pulled out the leather dining chair to the right of his seat, and indicated I should sit.
 
He strode to the door and swung it open.
 
A petite Asian woman with a large room service cart entered, wheeling it towards the table.
 
I started to rise, and she shook her head and arms.

"No, no.
 
You sit."
 
Her broken English was accompanied by a sweet smile, and she scurried around the cart, unloaded the dishes.
 
Brad returned to his seat, pausing on the way to kiss the top of my head.
 
The damn man was an enigma.
 
The server made quick work of the loaded cart, and before long the table was filled with small plates of breakfast items.
 
She left a small vase of wildflowers in front of Brad and me, did a slight bow and left.
 

My requested eggs, yogurt, and fruit were present, along with orange juice and milk.
 
Brad had ordered a full breakfast for himself, and heaped bacon, hash browns, and a waffle onto the large plate already containing an omelette.
 
We ate in silence for a few minutes, than Brad spoke.

"We have dinner reservations at Prime tonight, and tickets to a Cirque show at 10pm.
 
That leaves the day pretty much up to you.
 
I'll leave Philipe's number for you.
 
He’s my host.
 
He can arrange anything you are interested in."

I blinked, halfway through a biscuit that I had snagged from one of his gabillion plates.
 
"You're leaving me?"

He laughed.
 
"Oh, how many times I've heard that one."
 

"Hahaha."
 
I glowered at him and took another huge bite of biscuit.

"I have stuff to do.
 
Mainly gambling.
 
Stuff you won't be interested in.
 
I'll regroup with you at dinner.
 
Trust me, you'll have a fine time without me."
 
He winked and went back to eating, apparently done with the conversation.

I felt the happy bubble that had enveloped me since my first orgasm begin to deflate.
 
I don't know what I had envisioned, but him leaving me in the room while he handled his "stuff" all day wasn't it.
 
I grumbled to myself and jerked open the lid to the yogurt with unnecessary vigor.
 
He eyed me carefully, sensing my irritability.
 
It wasn't that hard to sense.
 
I was practically beating him over the head with it.

"You're not going to start crying again are you?"

This thought struck me as so absurd that I burst out laughing.
 
I laughed until tears threatened and milk started to come from my nose.
 
I quieted down and shook my head, still shaking slightly.

"That was a one time thing.
 
I swear.
 
I'm typically not a cryer.
 
I don't know what came over me."
 
Plus, now I don't have to debate about having sex with you.
 
I know what I want.
 
I could feel the bright red color of my face and I studiously avoided his eyes, focusing really hard on finding the perfect scoop of Dannon strawberry yogurt.

"Any guesses?"

I set down the yogurt and met his eyes.
 
"If I want a shrink, I'll use the ridiculously long day stretching before me and ask "Philipe" to send me one.
 
Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go to MY room to start my sentence!"
 
Knowing full well how juvenile I was acting, I tossed down my yogurt and stomped off, headed to the other room.
 
Brad caught my arm as I passed his chair and stood, spinning me around and holding me by the arms.
 
He kissed me, firm and hard, and then released me.

"I'll see you tonight."
 
He cheerfully sauntered into the master bedroom, and emerged 20 seconds later with a room key in hand.
 
I stood there, arms crossed, feeling rather silly in my plush robe and wet hair, and watched as he winked at me, then left the room.
 
The door shut quietly behind him.
 

Fuck.
 
That just made it pretty freaking clear who had upper hand.
 
I flopped down on the sofa to lament my woes, and then grabbed my cell off the coffee table and punched in Olivia's number.

She answered on the second ring.

"Please tell me you are alive and safe."

"Very alive and pretty safe." I teased.
 

"Having a good time?"

I wandered through the suite and pondered her question. "Pretty good.
 
We didn't do much last night, just checked in and went to bed."
 
I decided to leave out my hysterical crying fit.

"Bed? or BED?"

I giggled.
 
"Just normal bed, Olivia.
 
He has been a gentlemen, and we have a two-room suite."
Not that the second room has been used.

"So you slept separately?"

"Yes.
 
Kind of.
 
There was some cuddling."

"Wow. You are so wild and crazy. " she monotoned.
 
"Cuddling?
 
On the second date?
 
Becca would tear you a new asshole if she heard this."

The room phone rang, and I glanced over my shoulder and frowned at it.

"Becca?
 
I'm going to have to call you back."

CHAPTER
18

I looked at the phone, unsure of whether I should answer it or not.
 
Finally I bit the bullet and picked up the receiver.
 
It was the concierge, confirming our 7pm dinner reservation at Prime, and asking if we wanted a house limo to take to the show.
 
Unsure, I went ahead and reserved the car.
 
I would check with Brad during dinner to see if I needed to cancel it.
 
I remember Brad asking me, or Tiffany, to reserve a car for him, but hadn't seen a rental car yet.
 
Maybe he was using it now; doing whatever important "stuff" he had to do.
 

I sat back at the table and munched on a few breakfast potatoes, mulling over my day.
 
I decided to hit the hotel pool, and then spend the afternoon at the spa.
 
I fingered the card that Brad had left, and dialed Philipe's extension.
 

A male voice answered on the second ring, stiff and business-like.
 
It warmed dramatically when I identified myself.

"Ms. Campbell!
 
How can I help you?"

"I was thinking about going to the spa this afternoon.
 
Could you help me to book some services?"

"Certainly.
 
Just let me know what services you would like."

"I was thinking about a massage?"

"Julia.
 
In Vegas, you need to go big.
 
Let me put you down for a full treatment.
 
Make that beautiful man treat you right."
 

"Your the boss, Philipe."
 
I smiled into the receiver.

"Shall I put you down for one o’clock?"

"That would be perfect.
 
Thank you."
 
I was preparing to hang up when he spoke again.

"What are you doing between now and one?"

"I was going to go to the pool."

He clicked his tongue into the receiver.
 
"You don't want to go to the hotel's pool, it is a zoo.
 
Give me a call when you're ready, and I’ll have someone escort you to our VIP pool."

"You rock."

I could hear his smile.
 
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

"Talk to you soon."

I hung up the phone, and moseyed to the bedroom, flipping on the clock radio when I got to the room.
 
My outlook had brightened considerably after speaking to Philipe.
 
Why had I been pissed to spend the day alone?
 
I pushed a few of the presets until I found a top 40 station.
 
I turned up the volume and walked into the closet, unzipping my suitcase and flipping it open.
 
I had only packed one bathing suit, an electric blue bikini.
 
I dropped my robe and stepped into the suit bottoms, tightening the side ties.
 
A Rihanna song started on the radio, and I sang and danced my way into the bathroom.
 
I brushed my teeth again, and then applied some waterproof mascara and lip gloss.
 
My hair was still damp, so I ran a big comb through it, and pulled it into a low knot.
 
Becca had loaned me a sheer white cover-up, and I grabbed it and my bikini top out of my suitcase.
 
I put them both on, and picked up the bathroom phone.
 
I dialed Philipe's extension.

"Already ready?"

"Yes sir."

"Someone will be there shortly."

"Thanks."

Five minutes later, as I was pulling on a pair of bejeweled sandals, there was a knock at the door.
 
I grabbed the bag I had packed, complete with tanning spray, magazines, and a towel, and went to the door.
 
An attractive blond in a grey suit stood there and flashed a friendly smile.