Love Is the Drug (12 page)

But. She was three sheets to the wind. Probably wouldn’t even remember this later. And if she did—he'd be in the doghouse again, for sure.
Shit!
Jason broke the kiss. He rested his forehead against hers. They were both struggling for air. After about the fifth intake of breath, he could finally speak. “You still want to go down to the casino?” He was weak, he knew it. But, he swore to God, if she said no, he’d take her to bed right now. Doghouse, be damned.

Unfortunately—or fortunately, he couldn’t say which at this moment—the burger must’ve finally kicked in, because she nodded and said, “Yeah, sounds great.”

“Okay.” Even to his own ears, there was a distinct lack of enthusiasm in his voice. He stepped back and slowly dropped her legs until she was standing on her feet again—this time, with no support. “I’ll take you to one of the stores, too, so we can get you something to wear to dinner tonight.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

He strode over to the door and opened it. “Ready?”

“You bet.”

* * *

Lou Davis’s jittery hand splashed some of the Jack out of the glass and onto his cheek as he slammed it down his throat. It was the third shot he’d taken in a row and, even though it was warm going down, it failed to soothe his nerves. He swiped at his face with the back of one hand while he lifted the empty glass with the other and motioned to the bartender. “Set me up again, Jim.” He slapped a c-note down on the counter.

“Don’t you think you’d better use that to pay your bookie?” Jim tossed his head in the direction of the private lounge where all the high-stakes action took place. “Weren’t those some of his wise guys just now?”

Lou shrugged, but his leg started jiggling up and down again. “Yeah.” His eyes darted left and right and then he leaned over the bar a little more. “But I tell ya, Jim, this here”—he put his pointer on the hundred—“won’t even scratch the surface of what I owe. What I need is a story—something sensational—something that I can sell for twenty grand or so.”

“Your glory days of hot-shot reporting here are over, Lou. They have been for a while. Why don’t you find yourself a new city? Miami, or something, and start over?”

“Maybe. But, first I’ve gotta pay Bruno.” The crowd behind him at the craps table
whooped
and clapped. He turned around. “What’s going on over there?”

Jim shrugged. “A couple have been rollin’ the dice for over an hour. They’re winnin’ big, it seems.”

Lou nodded and slid off his stool, tucking the c-note in his pocket at the same time. “I’d better check it out.” He walked over and pressed himself through the crowd.

* * *

After a few minutes, Lou went back up to the bar. “Hey, Jim, does that couple at the craps table look familiar to you?”

Jim glanced in their direction and shrugged. “Nah. Why?”

Lou shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s something niggling at my memory, but for the life of me, I can’t get a handle on it.”

Jim looked at his watch. “Time for the sports news.” He grabbed the remote from under the bar and turned the volume up.

“…
Connie Del Mar. The previously unreleased movie is—”

“
Del Mar! That’s it Jim!” Lou leapt off the stool. “I’ve got my story!” He hustled back over to the craps table, feeling in his pocket for his mind-erasers.
Or I will have by morning.

* * *

Jason took hold of Julie’s hand and led her away from the table toward the lobby.

“I told you we should have cashed in earlier,” she said, pouting a little.

He grinned down at her. “Sorry. I thought for sure you had at least one more good roll in you. Damn! That was one helluva winning streak you were on.”

“I agree. You were on a real heater,” a rather stout, middle aged man said as he got in step with them. He put his hand out to Jason. “Hi, I’m Lou. Lou Davis.”

Jason shook the man’s hand and gave him a brief nod.

“Hey, sorry you lost it all on that last roll, little lady,” Lou said. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I’d never done the same.” His gaze moved back to Jason’s then. “I’ve come to Vegas once a year for the past twenty. Came here this time to celebrate my retirement from the Post Office—35 years of service—and this is my first night here.” He pointed in the direction of the lounge. “I’d love to buy you two a consolation drink—what say?”

“Sorry, Lou, but we’ve got plans,” Jason told him.

But Julie felt sorry for the older man. How sad that he was here all by himself to celebrate his retirement—and after so many years of government service. “We have time for one drink, though, don’t we Jason?”

Jason gave her a sharp look, but said, “Yeah, alright. I guess one drink won’t hurt.”

“Great!” Lou said. “Hey, I didn’t catch your name, little lady.”

“Julie,” she said, “and this is Jason.”

“Glad to meet the both of you.”

* * *

“
Wake up!” Julie bounced on the edge of the bed and shook Jason at the same time.

“Stop rocking the boat,” he grumbled.

“Jason!”

He finally cracked an eyelid open and lifted his head from the pillow. “What time is it?”

“It doesn’t matter—look at this!” She held the document up to his face. He blinked at it, clearly having trouble focusing. 

“It’s a marriage certificate!
Ours!
I—"

“What the hell?” He bolted upright and grabbed the thing from her.

“I just woke up and found it on the bed between us!”

“How?”

She knew what he meant. “I don’t know! I was hoping you would.”

He rubbed one eye with the base of his palm, still studying the document.
“Shit.
Let me think.”

“Jason, this is not good. The last thing I remember with any clarity is sitting in the lounge with that retired postman—what was his name?”

“Lou or something, I think.”

“Yeah. Lou—Lou Davis.”

“That’s the last thing I can remember, too—except…
shit, shit, shit!
” He dropped the document onto the bed between them and grabbed hold of her shoulders. His eyes were wild. “Do you remember Elvis?”

“Elvis?”

“Yeah—or, maybe I dreamed it, I don’t know—but I’ve got a couple of sketchy visions floating around in my head of you, and me, and that postman in a limo driving down the Strip—and then Elvis. He’s talking to us, but…I can’t make out the words.”

She grabbed hold of his arm. “Jason! I remember that too!”

His eyes did a quick sweep of her torso, then his own. “I’m still wearing what I had on last night. Even my shoes. God, that’s a first.” He pointed at the shorts and tank she wore. “How about you—did you wake up in that?”

“Yeah. What happened, Jason—this is scaring me.”

He got up and strode toward the door leading into the other room. “My brain feels like it’s going to pound out of my skull—I gotta get some aspirin.” After another minute, he came back in carrying his shaving kit and went straight through to the bathroom. Then, as he rummaged in the kit, he picked up the thread of their conversation. “Look, Julie, I think we enjoyed ourselves way too much, got stupid-drunk, and became another embarrassing statistic.”

“Statistic?”

He peeked out the doorway at her. “Yeah. Drunken-marriage-in-Vegas-followed-by-quickie-Divorce statistic.”

“
Oh. Yeah.”

“Well, more like annulment, since it’s clear we didn’t do anything but pass out on the bed together last night.” He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head. "Shit, what the mother
fuck
was I thinking to allow either one of us to get that smashed?" Then he popped two aspirin in his mouth and ran some tap water into a glass tumbler.

He’d just swallowed it down and was filling it again when his cell phone started ringing. He glanced toward the bureau. “Will you get that—I’m expecting a call from that prospective client I told you about.” He turned his gaze on her. “And Julie—don’t be scared. We can fix this thing, okay?”

She swallowed and nodded—to both of his requests. She snatched the phone off of the bureau. “Good morning, this is Mr. Jörgensen’s assistant, may I help you?”

Jason grinned out the doorway at her and winked.

She stuck her tongue out at him. But then she dropped her jaw. “Ohmygod.”

He took a step into the room. “What is it?”

“Yes, yes. He’s right here.” She hurried toward him holding out the phone. “It’s Methodist Hospital —your dad’s—”

He grabbed the phone from her. “This is Jason Jörgensen—is he okay?” He strode past her into the center of the room and began to pace. “Angioplasty? Oh. Uh huh. When did he go in?”

Julie darted her eyes around the room. She found her own slip-on shoes peeking out from under the bed. She dashed over and slid into them and then started collecting the few shopping bags—she had no memory of these, either—from where they lay on the bureau and chair.

“
Okay. Right.” Jason looked at his watch. “Listen, I’m in Vegas—the earliest I can be there is probably three or four this afternoon.” His eyes landed on her and then he strode toward the bathroom and grabbed the kit.

Julie hurried over to him and took it from him. He mouthed “thank you” to her and then said into the receiver, “Oh. Yeah, okay. So he’ll be in recovery by that time?”

She ran into the other room and found his carry-on open on the floor. She stuffed everything inside and then zipped it shut. She jogged back into the bedroom just as Jason was saying, “Got it. Thanks.”

He pushed the disconnect button and looked at her. “I’ve got to get to Houston right away. The annulment is going to have to wait until after I’ve seen my dad.”

Julie nodded. “Of course.”

“Well—you’ve got a choice. You can either stay in Vegas and I’ll come back for you in a few days, or you can fly to Dallas by yourself.”

“Jason! I’m not doing either—I’m going with you!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Julie.”

“Why not? You’ve got to know I’m worried about your dad. I want to see him—make sure he’s alright.”

“Because. It would be awkward for you—and for him as well. He doesn’t like to appear puny around people.”

“Jason, please let me go with you. I’ll stay in the waiting room—I won’t even ever have to see him if he’s too embarrassed. Okay? Please?”

He stared at her for what seemed like a full minute before his shoulders finally relaxed and he said, “Okay. And this drunken marriage thing is to remain between you and me. Got it?”

She nodded. “I agree. And the letter?” Her tripping heart leapt into her throat. She felt in her pocket. Thank God. It was still there.

“The letter as well.” He turned then and headed into the other room.

Julie followed.

Jason had just picked up his carry-on and started walking toward the door when Julie stopped in her tracks and looked around the suite for the first time. “Hey! Where’s the other bedroom?”

“There isn’t one.”

She slammed her hands onto her hips and narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean—”

He sighed. “Look, we’ve gotta go. I’ll explain on the way, okay?” He opened the door to the suite and waited for her to go through it.

“You bet you will,” she said and then strode past him into the hallway.

They boarded a flight to Houston an hour and a half later.

* * *

Jason swung the door open to his father’s hospital room and stepped inside. “Dad?”

“Jason!” Gabe turned the volume down on the television. “Come over here and let me get a look at you.”

“You look a lot better than I was expecting, thank God.” His dad seemed a little drowsy, but there was some color in his cheeks. Jason pulled a chair up close to the bedside and sat down. He placed his hand on top of his dad’s wrist. “How’d it go? You okay? The doctor said you were, but I want to hear it from you.”

“I’m fine. In fact, I’ve been out of surgery for awhile—three hours or so.”

“I know. I—”

“Did you bring your wife with you?” Gabe asked, looking in the direction of the door.

“My wi—?!”

“What a surprise!” Gabe patted Jason’s hand. “A good—no
GREAT—
surprise, in fact.”

Jason shook his head in bewilderment. “But…how did you know?”

“The T.V., of course.” His gaze sharpened. “You can’t tell me you didn’t expect the press to get wind of this.”

“I…”
Shit!
“I guess I didn’t really think about it.” They were well-and-truly screwed.

“Heh-heh
. No, I’m sure you had other things on your mind. But I have to tell ya, I think you should think about giving Julie a better ceremony. I mean, I understand how your enthusiasm got the better of you, but this is a ‘
til death do us part’
thing. The least you can do is offer yourself to her in a more sober environment.”