Lovestruck in Los Angeles (8 page)

“I was really young. And we mostly stayed at Disney.”

He scowled a little, and I laughed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to rub the Disney thing in your face.”

“We need to find time to get to Disneyland,” he said, tapping his hands on the steering wheel. “Seriously. If we go home without seeing it, I’m going to be
so
pissed.”

“We’ll go,” I assured him. “Though we could always go to EuroDisney when we get back to London. Take the Eurostar.” He shuddered a little, and I remembered that he was claustrophobic. He’d taken the tunnel train back from France only once and had hated every minute of it. “Or we could fly,” I said quickly.

“It wouldn’t be the same. I want to go to Disneyland. With the palm trees and the sunshine.”

“Okay, Thomas,” I said, turning on the voice I used when my niece and nephew were getting whiney. “We’ll go to Disneyland.”

“And eat Mickey bars?”

I laughed. “And eat Mickey bars.”

“I think we’re getting close. We’ve been driving for about four hours.”

I looked down in my lap at the guidebook he’d brought home for me. “When we pass into Nevada there’s a casino on the state line. They have a roller coaster. Wanna stop?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind just getting there, you know? We’re going to see plenty of casinos over the next few days.”

“True.”

I went back to staring out the window. It really was beautiful. Almost beautiful enough for me to forget about the fact that it was the day before Thanksgiving and I wasn’t in my mom’s kitchen, helping her cook for the holiday. The day before Thanksgiving was when we made the pies and did all the prep work. For years my job had been to tear apart pieces of bread for the stuffing. We used five different kinds of bread, all home baked, to give the best flavor. If I concentrated hard enough I could smell the butter and celery sautéing in anticipation of the spicy rye bread I tore into tiny chunks—

“Lizzie?” Thomas asked, and I turned to him. “You daydreaming? I said the casino is right there.”

I shook my head a little, trying to clear it. Sure enough, there was a casino right there on the side of the highway. It appeared to have been plopped down in the middle of the desert. “How do they get power and water?” I wondered out loud. “It doesn’t seem like there’s anything out here.”

Thomas shrugged. “I have no idea.”

It wasn’t long before we started seeing more buildings along the route, which soon gave way to suburbs. “I think we’re almost there,” Thomas said.

I felt a rush of excitement. I had always wanted to travel more, get out of my hometown. It was the main reason I had gone away to London for grad school. I had no idea what to expect with Vegas, but I knew it would be something new to see, if nothing else.

As Thomas followed the GPS directions off the highway and toward our hotel, however, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of letdown. Maybe it was because we were approaching it during the day, but it honestly didn’t feel all that different from any city center. Lots of buildings and parking lots. When I expressed this thought to Thomas he smiled. “I think you might change your mind when you see the strip. We’re kind of driving behind all the action right now.”

My first sight of our hotel confirmed that sentiment. A massive white marble facade surrounded the circular drive into which Thomas pulled up for the valet. “Wow,” I said, stepping out of the car and glancing up at the entrance. “This is gorgeous.”

“A lot of the people I talked to said it was the best place to stay on the strip.” He handed his keys to the valet driver and thanked him before coming around to take my arm, our rolling suitcase in his other hand. “It’s right in the middle of everything, and it’s supposed to be pretty luxurious.”

“I’m sure that’s why you picked it,” I said, sliding an arm around his waist. “I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that your favorite director shot a movie here.”

“You figured that out, huh? What can I say,
Ocean’s Eleven
was awesome, and Steven Soderbergh is a god to me.”

The lobby of the Bellagio was amazing. I had no idea if it was like this on the rest of the strip, but I was totally blown away by the wide open space inside, the smooth marble floors, the vibrant colored glass sculpture on the ceiling, and the glimpse of an indoor garden at the far end. The casino was loud and bustling, even in the middle of the afternoon, and the entire place buzzed with soft music, the thrum of conversation, and running water from the indoor fountains. As Thomas led me to the counter to check in I felt like I was at a tennis match, my head snapping back and forth between all the details I wanted to check out.

I wasn’t really listening as Thomas checked in—until I heard the clerk say something about suite level concierge service. I shot a glance at Thomas, but he just raised his eyebrows at me.

Sure enough, a suited hotel employee came over and introduced himself to us as a member of the concierge service. “Let me get someone for your bag,” he said, after we’d shaken hands.

“Oh, that’s fine,” Thomas said. We were only staying for two nights and thus had only brought one carry-on size suitcase between the two of us. “I’ve got it.”

“If you’re sure, sir,” the concierge said. “I’ll be showing you to your suite. If you have any questions or need anything at all, please let me know.”

“Suite?” I asked Thomas as quietly as I could so the concierge wouldn’t hear me.

“Remember you said you weren’t going to say a word about money on this trip, Lizzie. We both agreed that we needed to relax.”

“Yeah, but you said you weren’t going to go overboard.”

“I didn’t.”

We reached the elevator before I could say any more.

“You’ll need to insert your key in order to get to the upper level,” the concierge said, slipping a card into the slot on the elevator before pressing the button labeled “35.”

I scowled at Thomas, but he merely raised his eyebrows as if he had no idea what I could be thinking.

The concierge explained the various hotel amenities to us and the ways he could help us take advantage of them. “I can make reservations for you at any of our fine dining establishments or for any of our shows,” he said. “We also have a wonderful spa facility that I highly recommend.”

“Ooh, didja hear that, Lizzie?” Thomas asked, smirking at me a little. “Spa facility. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

I shook my head at him, trying not to smile. I knew it was stupid to agree not to say anything about money during this trip. He was going to splash out at every opportunity now, just because he could.

“Visiting the spa sounds wonderful,” I said, smirking right back. “I think you could use a pedicure for those gnarly feet of yours.”

The concierge didn’t seem to know how to react to that, so he turned his attention to the blinking floor monitor above the door. We were climbing rapidly, but the ride was smooth—it barely felt like we were moving at all. “Ah, here we are,” the concierge said at last as the elevator doors slid open on floor thirty-five. “Your suite is right this way.”

He opened the door and gestured us inside. I couldn’t keep from gaping.

Okay, so in principle I was totally against Thomas spending tons of money on me. Money in general made me uncomfortable, and I usually felt out of place when surrounded by total luxury. But as soon as I saw that room, none of that mattered. It was spectacular.

“Wow,” I whispered. We seemed to be floating above the entire city, which we could view through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The entrance opened onto a sitting area, and I could make out a plush king-sized bed in the connected bedroom. The furniture was gorgeous, clearly very high-end but still comfortable looking. The centerpiece, though, was the view. It seemed to go for miles in every direction, completely unobstructed. For the first time in our relationship, I couldn’t have cared less how much it cost—the room was gorgeous and I was thrilled to be staying there.

On an impulse, I threw my arms around Thomas’s neck. I saw his pleased but surprised look before I buried my face in his shoulder. “This is amazing,” I said. “Thank you.”

He laughed. “You’re very welcome.”

“It is quite a nice view,” the concierge said, smiling at us.

I had kind of forgotten he was there. I let go of Thomas and smiled back shyly.

“I’ll leave your key cards here,” he went on. “You’ll find the concierge desk number by your phone. I would be happy to help you with any of your planning.”

Thomas walked him to the door and thanked him again. Once the concierge had gone, he turned to me. “You really like it?”

“I really, really do.” I turned to the window. “Think of what this will look like at night!”

“Does Vegas live up to your expectations now?”

I laughed. “Yeah. I guess I just needed to see the strip.”

Thomas joined me at the window. We had an amazing view from there of what seemed to be the entire city. The strip was lit up below us, Caesar’s Palace to our left, Paris directly in front of us. “You wanna head down there?” Thomas asked. “Check it out?”

“Definitely.”

He looked down at his watch. “Should we make any reservations first?”

“Let’s play it by ear tonight. See where we end up.”

“Sounds good to me.” He held out his hand. “Shall we?”

***

The next day we took the concierge up on his offer to book spa treatments for us, and I didn’t think any decision could have been better. After the most amazing hot stone couples massage I could possibly imagine, we were now wrapped up in some kind of seaweed thing—or was it mud? It felt like mud. Whatever it was, it felt insanely good. We’d both had a facial and, though I’d been joking initially, a pedicure. Thomas had been hilarious during it, giggling every time the poor technician touched his feet.

“I’m staying here all day,” I murmured. “Seriously. You can go gamble if you want. I ain’t leaving.”

“That’s fine by me,” Thomas said, his voice dreamy.

“Did you see those Jacuzzis during the tour?” I asked, my voice equally dreamy. “I’m serious about staying down here all day.”

“I did. And the saunas.”

“And the relaxation room. With the freaking waterfalls in it.”

Thomas chuckled. “This was just what I needed.”

We had spent the first day in Vegas mostly walking on the strip. I had expected it to be a lot hotter than it was, but I guess late November gets chilly even in the desert. The high of sixty-five was perfect for walking outside though, so we weren’t complaining. We’d seen most of the big casinos, trying our hands at the slots, craps, and the black jack tables. Thomas had lost a hundred dollars so far, but I was up thirteen on the penny slots, a fact I had lorded over him all day.

The casino floor had seemed slightly quieter today, probably because most people were spending Thanksgiving watching (and betting on) the football games. After the spa, we were planning to see the Cirque de Solei show, another reservation our concierge had helped us with. I was liking the suite perks more and more.

“We never did decide on dinner,” Thomas said. “Do you want to try and find something Thanksgiving-ish?”

“Not particularly.” If I couldn’t be home with my family for the second straight year, I would honestly rather pretend the holiday wasn’t happening. “Let’s try to find something cool and Vegas instead.”

“Whatever you want.” He sighed. “I’m in no mood to argue anything right now. You could probably insult my football team and I wouldn’t mind.”

“Yeah, right. Not even a hot stone massage could allow you to forgive me for insulting Arsenal.”

“I don’t know, Lizzie, I’m pretty damn relaxed.”

I laughed as the spa technician came back into the room. “How are you feeling now?”

“Fantastic,” we said in unison.

“That’s what we want to hear.”

Once we showered all the mud off, we wrapped up in plush robes and slippers and headed down to the entrance for the gender-separated area. “I wish we could chill in the Jacuzzi together,” Thomas said, playing with the tie of my robe. “I’m kind of bummed we have to separate.”

“I could really care less. I just want to get into that sauna,” I said, making him laugh.

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Your skin is all tight and shiny.”

“So’s yours.”

“The makeup people will love it. They’re always complaining about my pores.”

I laughed. “We should see if they can recommend a skin care regimen for you. I’ll see you up in the room later?”

A robe-clad woman approached the door, and we moved out of her way. “Thanks,” she said, her eyes trailing up Thomas’s figure as she slipped through the door. I shook my head a little. I couldn’t blame her. He was even more adorable than usual in his robe, tan skin peeking out at the neck and legs.

“Yeah,” he said, once she had passed. “Will I have to send a search party after you?”

“You might.” I kissed him then headed into the women’s locker room. Like everything else at the spa, it was gorgeous, all marble and plush with mood lighting and rain showers.

Once I was wrapped in a towel, I decided to try out the steam room first. The scent of eucalyptus was overwhelming at first, but once I started to relax I loved the way it made my lungs feel.

Once my eyes had adjusted to the steam a little, I realized the woman from the doorway was also in the steam room with me, and she kept looking at me. “Hi,” she said, once we’d made eye contact. She was tall and blonde with basically the most perfect body I’d ever seen, which she was not hiding behind a towel. I tightened mine a little more.

“Hi.”

“Your boyfriend is pretty cute. I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

I shrugged, not wanting to bring up the whole actor thing. If she didn’t fully recognize him, I wasn’t going to help her out.

“Is he a singer or something?” she asked.

“No.” I smiled at her. “He’s pretty tone-deaf.”

“Well, you got pretty lucky to get such a cute one that can afford all this.” She laughed a little. “Mine is middle-aged and balding.”

“I…I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know, landing a hot boyfriend who also has money? That’s like the holy grail. I wish I could trade mine in.” She laughed again. “But my credit card would die of shock, I think.”