Taming Vegas (5 page)

The scent of lavender reaches the capillaries in my nose and
causes me to inhale deeply, involuntarily.

When I realize that I’m actually not sleeping, and this is
not a dream, I open up my eyes and grimace at the bright light in my face. My hand
comes up to shade my view, and I’m disappointed to find that this is not the
morning I woke up with a miraculous, dark haired beauty in my bed. Sometimes I
wish I could go back and ask her to stay, just go out to breakfast with me.

Feeling gloomy, I sit up in bed with a loud yawn and stretch
my arms up above my head. Then I bring one down and twist my back to get the
kinks out, and catch sight of the woman sleeping on the floor with a blanket
wrapped around her and a single pillow. She has an arm flung over her eyes to
block the light, and her dark hair is fanned out all around her as she sleeps.

I have the sudden urge to lean down and push a lock of her
slightly wavy hair out of her face, but I keep my hands to myself and try to
get out of bed without making a sound.

“I’m awake. You snore like a fucking elephant.” I want to
tell her that cursing in the morning is not particularly attractive, but I
guess I can let her slide with that one. I catch sight of myself in the mirror
above the bureau and cringe at the black eye, two stitches above the left eye,
and the darkening bruise on my jaw. I’m just glad I didn’t lose any teeth.

“Good morning to you, too.” I tell her with puffy lips. It
comes out a little more jumbled than I had hoped.

“Pain pills are in the bathroom on the counter, and the
doctor said to use the crutches by your nightstand there.” She doesn’t even
move her arm off her face as she speaks, and I can tell that she’s still
halfway between awareness and dreaming due to her tone.

“Thanks.” I grab the crutches and glance down at my bare
legs. I’m in my boxer briefs, which means that the doctor or Melanie undressed
me. Part of me secretly hopes it was Melanie. With a curve to my lips, I hobble
to the bathroom and close the door gently. As soon as the lock clicks I hear
her light snoring through the door and smile to myself.

Now that I’m out of her sight, I inspect my right calf a
little closer and grimace at the thirteen stitches. I’m not sure if I’m proud
of myself for telling Yatzi to go fuck himself or if I’ve suffered more than I
needed to. He’ll be back in a few days if I don’t agree to his terms, and I
might end up dead in an alley or worse.

The severity of the situation starts to weigh down on me as
I think about my employees and my business. If I hadn’t recognized two of the
cops with him, I wouldn’t hesitate to call in the police. Maybe I ought to call
in the FBI instead. Yet I doubt they would want to get involved with an
inconsequential nightclub owner.

“But maybe they’ll want to get their hands on Yatzi.” I
mutter as I stare at myself in the mirror. Am I brave enough to be the cause of
that man going to jail?

My bladder clenches in response and I cannot look at myself
in the mirror anymore. There’s nothing pretty there right now, and I doubt I’ll
be able to look at myself when I
am
pretty again. If I get involved with
the FBI and Yatzi figures it out, everyone I care about will be at risk. That
includes the spicy, sexy woman lying on the floor of my office bedroom snoring
politely.

In one swipe, I have the bottle of pills in my hand and
stare at the label with my good eye. If I take these, I’ll be higher than kite being
flown off the Empire State building. Setting them down again, I wonder how I’m
going to bathe with stitches everywhere, and decide that I’ll have to wing it.
Keeping one leg out of the shower and trying to wash my hair without getting
water or soap in the wounds on my face is difficult, and impossible.

Even though every inch of my husk aches from the abuse it
took yesterday, I survive my shower. With a towel wrapped around my waist after
I dry my hair, I go about the daily business of grooming myself. I don’t give a
second thought to walking out of the bathroom with just the towel around my
torso, and let it drop when I get to the bureau with a few changes of clothes
inside.

“Your coffee’s in the office.” Melanie keeps her gaze
averted from me when she peeks her head through the door, and I remember the
last time we saw each other naked. Before I can stop myself, it’s out of my
mouth.

“Would you like to go to breakfast with me?” I look at her
with as serious as an expression as I can muster, and her lips twitch up at the
corners.

“Wow, those pills must be really great.”

“No, I’m serious; would you like to go to breakfast with me?
I’ve been meaning to ask you that for a long time.” There’s a moment where I
see the indecision on her face, and then I see the split second where she makes
her decision. “Never mind, it was a foolish question. Let me get dressed, and
I’ll have my lawyer come over to check out that paperwork.” At the mention of
business, her face turns back to its normal semi-stressed expression, and she’s
gone from the doorway.

I grab my cellphone off the nightstand and scroll through my
contacts to find the lawyer’s number. He’s an old friend of mine who worked
with me when we were both bouncers at a club. I found it amusing that a bouncer
would be going to school to be a lawyer, but this guy is like a machine when it
comes to reading through the paperwork and understanding the legal mumbo jumbo.

“Brent Hickory speaking.” He picks up on the second ring
with a professional tone.

“Hey Brent, it’s Alex. Listen, do you have a minute to look
over some paperwork I received?” He knows I’ll pay him for it even though he tries
to do things for me pro-bono occasionally. I think he just wants to get into my
business, and he’s curious about what I do up here in my office.

“I can be over this afternoon around four. I’ve got a client
this morning, and some research to do.” He sounds a little tired, and I feel
poorly for asking him to look at some minor paperwork when he must be working
hard on a case.

“It’s not that big of a deal. Just take your time.” I hear
him yawn on the other line and wonder how much sleep he’s been getting lately.
Part of me wants to tell him about the visit from Yatzi, but I know I’m going
to need to come up with an excuse as to why I’m banged up. Anyone I tell about Yatzi
is in danger from the man, and some of them I don’t even need to tell them.

“I’ll be over at four, Alex.” I glance down at wristwatch
and grimace when I see that four o’clock is still seven hours away, which means
I’ll need to provide breakfast and lunch for my unwelcome guest.

“I really appreciate this, Brent. Do you want sushi or pizza?”
Business can never be conducted without food, at least, not civilized business.

“Sushi, I’ll bring the wine.” With our plans settled, we
don’t bother saying goodbye and hang up on either end. I pull on my dress
pants, the button up white shirt and grab a blazer from my closet. With my
ensemble complete, I pocket my phone and glance at myself in the mirror over
the bureau one last time. The swelling is starting to go down, and I don’t look
nearly as awful as I did when I woke up this morning. After today, I’ll just be
bruised and have a few stitches.

I’ll still need to keep my face hidden for a while.
Realizing that my phone calls are not finished, I start swiping through the
phone and call each employee to let them know that I want them opening up at
noon today with their normal schedules. Once every single phone call is
completed, two hours have passed, and I’m sure that my coffee is now ice cold.

Melanie is sitting at my desk with the laptop open and her
fingers resting over the keys as she sucks in one side of her bottom lip. I
find the action surprisingly endearing and clear my throat to grab her
attention. A shiver takes over her entire body when she glances up and sees me
standing in the doorway, but I’m not sure if it’s from the fact that I startled
her or if it’s something else.

“You had a guest account, so I just used that. Sorry, I had
some e-mails to check, and I was bored.” I shrug a shoulder as I sit down in
the chairs usually reserved for my employees or guests and steeple my fingers
over a knee.

“It’s not a big deal. Do you want me to order breakfast? The
vegetable omelets from the hotel here are supreme.” I realize that inviting her
to breakfast was a little forward of me, but maybe she’ll accept breakfast in
my office with me. Sometimes a guy has to settle.

“Yeah, why not? Although, I’d rather have some pancakes if that’s
alright.” I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head at her gently with a
serious expression, but inside I’m smiling.

“I can’t believe a girl like you would actually eat
carbs
!”
I feel some satisfaction that a hint of a smile graces her face before she
reigns in her breakthrough.

“Just order the breakfast. When is your lawyer getting
here?” She’s staring at the computer screen as she clicks on something and I
watch her nimble fingers race over the keys at a speed that should be inhumanly
possible.

“Four.” Her fingers stumble, and her eyes widen minutely
while I watch her reaction. Then she regains her composure and begins to type
again.

“I’ll get a room at the hotel here.” She tells me in a
monotone voice as she gently closes the laptop lid and grabs her purse off the
back of my chair. Strangely, I like the way she looks sitting there, but it’s
short lived.

“You could stay in the room back there. I’ll return to my
apartment so you can spend the night. When is your flight home?” She’s wearing
the clothes she wore the previous night. I can only assume that her clothes are
in a room either here, or they’re in another hotel room nearby.

“No. I don’t want to impose.” I know what that actually
means. It means that she doesn’t trust me, or she doesn’t trust herself. I
accept that for the time being and shrug a shoulder. I guess I’ll be staying
here instead of heading home, then. I want to be nearby if she’s in any danger
from Yatzi.

“Right, then I’ll escort you to the front desk.” The curt
shake of her head has my proverbial hackles rising. “What’s the matter? You don’t
want to be seen with your husband?” Saying the word out loud makes my insides
turn to stone and something strange passes over her face. I’m pretty sure I saw
it before, regret.

“Not this one.” She spins on her heel, and she’s out of my
sight within a few seconds. I flip open the laptop lid and login to the guest
screen to see what she was looking at. A picture of a reception room with
colorful arrays of tulips meets my gaze. I have to admit, it’s not the
traditional wedding arrangement with roses, but it’s still tasteful.

I begin to search through her history on the web and
discover that she did a lot of digging about me while I was showering, and she
researched the history of the nightclub I own. Feeling a little smug that she
actually thought me significant enough to look up, I smile to myself as I reach
for my coffee. It’s sitting where it’s usually placed beside my laptop, but it’s
sitting on top of a little warming plate. I try to remember the last time
someone actually brought me coffee that I didn’t pay for, and realize that I
can’t recall a time.

My cellphone buzzes with a message from Anna and I turn my
attention to it. Smiling is not exactly a painless act at the moment, so I try
to keep it contained when I read that she’s coming in early to help clean up
any messes. I text her back letting her know that the place isn’t as bad as she
thinks, but my face might be worse. With the end of our conversation complete,
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes for a mid-morning nap.

The sound of the elevator door dinging wakes me with a
start, and a glance at my watch informs me that it’s quarter past eleven in the
morning. Wiping at my eyes gently, so I don’t tear the stitches above the left
one, I try to look like I was actually awake for the past couple of hours.
Unfortunately, it’s not the woman I was hoping would walk through the door, but
she’ll do.

“I brought you a bagel with blueberry cream cheese and some
coffee, oh, you have coffee.” I shrug as she sits down across from me. Anna’s
face is contorted in worry when she sees the mess my face is in, but she doesn’t
say anything about it.

“I could use more coffee.” I tell her as I sip on the
espresso. Anna shifts in her chair uncomfortably while I watch her, and then
she finally starts telling me what’s on her mind.

“Listen, a lot of the crew here is upset about what happened
yesterday. They’re saying that you’re on the wrong side of Yatzi, and we’re in
danger here. Is that true, Alex?” I wonder how many of them won’t show up this
afternoon, and try to think of a game plan for when the club reopens. If I
remain shut down, it will only fuel Yatzi’s self-satisfaction.

“Aren’t you in danger anywhere you work in Vegas?” The
expression on her face tells me that she’ll be one of the first to go. I don’t
blame Anna for the change in heart. If I were just an employee I might run,
too.

No sooner am I in my room, my cellphone begins to vibrate
violently in my purse. I set it down on the grand bureau and try not to choke
when I see that it’s Oliver’s face on the touchscreen. I have two choices right
now. Option one would be to ignore Oliver’s phone call and just tell him I was
out of reception until I’m able to come up with a viable story as to why I’m
not in New York right now. Option two would be to pick up the phone and answer
any questions he may have with as little details as possible.

As much as I like option one, Oliver’s going to be even more
suspicious if I don’t pick up the phone. So I slide the little green bar across
the phone to answer his call and try for my sweetest voice possible when I say,
“Hello?” I don’t want him to be suspicious yet.

“Melanie! I stopped by the apartment today to see how your
hoard is doing. How is it going at your parents?” I fumble for something to say
and realize that the silence on my end is getting a little long.

“It’s going wonderful! Dad’s talking about wine too much and
my mother’s having one too many glasses. It’s a regular old family reunion
here!” I wince at the false note in my voice, but Oliver doesn’t seem to notice
my panic.

“That’s good, sweetheart.” I cringe when he calls me that,
and sit down on the overly fluffy bed.

“How is work?” Oliver starts in on his long spiel about
getting into the law firm and settling down in his office. I make the
appropriate noises when necessary and remain silent during the other moments. When
there’s a lapse in time, I realize that he must have asked me a question, and I
try to think back to what it was.

“I’m sorry, there was static at the end there. What did you
say?” I try not to stifle a yawn with my hand and wonder how I’m going to make
it through a marriage with this guy.

“I asked you when you were coming home.” There is nothing in
his voice that makes me think he’s upset with me, so I go ahead and tell him
the truth.

“I’m not sure when that will be. It’ll probably be two or
three more days.” I fib to him that I have a flight scheduled for tomorrow
because I’d like a day or two at my apartment alone after this adventure. There
is a lot of thinking I have to do as soon as this step is finished.

“Well, I’ll miss you.” I feel something akin to guilt when
he says it as if he means it, and I flop back onto the bed with my hair splayed
out behind me.

“I’ll miss you, too.” He tells me he has to go because there
is something urgent he has to deal with, and I let him go without a second
hesitation or thought.

Now that the awkward conversation is over, I immediately put
my phone back in my purse with the ringer turned off and the vibrate option
also silenced. I sling my purse over my shoulder and open up the door to the
suite that I booked, and head out to the hallway. I’m on the thirtieth floor,
which means it’s a long ride to the ground level where I get out. Eerily,
there’s no one about when I walk through the parking garage and up to street
level.

It takes me about thirty seconds to hail a cab so that I can
go to the smaller, crappier hotel room I rented yesterday and grab my things. There’s
a fee for checking out early, but I swipe my card and smile anyway. Tonight I
will be a single woman again. I glance down at the ring on my left hand. Well,
almost a single woman.

The ride back to Obsidian Nightclub takes about twenty
minutes through the traffic, and I’m hit with a blast of hot air when I open up
the cab door. I thank the driver, give him a hefty tip, and try not to smile
when he gives me a lopsided grin. This is how I got into trouble in the first
place, in Vegas. A pretty boy smiled at me, and I let my knees get wobbly.

Someone asks if I need help taking my bag up to my room, but
I deny the help and roll it onto the elevator myself. Once I’m safely back
inside my new hotel suite, I sit down on one of the leather chairs and lean my
head back as I stare at the ceiling. It’s only two in the afternoon, which
means I have two more hours to kill before Alex’s lawyer shows up. He’s kidding
himself if he thinks I won’t be there when they read through the divorce
papers.

I wake up from a nap about an hour before I have to head
upstairs to Alex’s office and grab a quick shower so that I’m refreshed for the
meeting. Part of me wants to wear something slinky to show him what he’s missing
since he never tried to get in touch with me, but I put on a button up white
shirt with a pair of black slacks. I pull on a pair of closed toed heels to
complete my ensemble and walk out of my hotel suite with a small frown on my
face. I just want to finish this. Stepping onto the elevator, I straighten the
cuffs of my shirt and flip my hair away from my face quickly. Just as the doors
are opening, I check to make sure that not a smudge of the light makeup is out
of place. Then I straighten up and put a small smile on my face even though I
feel as if I want a hole to swallow me up. Then two worlds seem to collide at
once.

Brent Hickory is standing and facing the elevator with a
small grin on his lips, and Alexander Pope is sitting behind him at his desk. I
see that they have not opened up the manila envelope with the paperwork inside,
or they closed it before the doors could open. Yet when Brent’s eyes meet mine
and the recognition hits, his grin falters into an expression of pure shock,
and the doors almost close.

At the last second, I reach out a hand to stop them and take
a hesitant step inside the room. This has to be some kind of practical joke.
There is no way that my sister’s husband is Alexander Pope’s lawyer. If he is,
I’m screwed because my sister can never keep her big mouth shut. It’s one of
the reasons we never talk.

“Melanie?” If I felt any doubt this is Brent Hickory
standing in front of me, it’s washed away by the sound of his voice. I’ll never
forget the deep tenor of his voice the first time I met him.

“Oh God, Brent?” Alex genuinely looks confused, but I’m
still suspicious he might have something to do with this. Maybe
he’s
trying to intimidate me?

“Well, this is
not
what I expected!” Brent holds his
arms out in a welcoming gesture, and I step into his embrace quickly with a
bewildered look on my face. I can tell that it’s bewildered because I feel just
as Alex looks right now.

“You two know each other?” He asks with a little alarm in
his voice, and like the petty person I can sometimes be, I feel a stab of
satisfaction that his guard has been stripped away.

“Know each other? We’re family!” Alex’s face pales as
Brent’s words as he steps away from me and motions for me to sit in a chair.

“You can’t tell Christina!
She’ll
tell my parents about
this, and somehow my fiancée is going to hear it.” I clap a hand over my mouth
as my eyes bug out and Brent throws his head back and laughs. In one sentence,
I’ve managed to let him know that this is not some big mistake, and I’m also
getting married. My life is like one gigantic soap opera right now, and I don’t
want to be living it right now.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep my lips sealed on this issue,
although I must say I’m sincerely shocked that you would do something like this
Melanie. Alex, I’m not so shocked about. I’ve been waiting for this for years.”
His eyes twinkle with his mirth, and I’m glad someone can find amusement in
this situation.

“Righto, let’s get started on the paperwork, shall we?” Alex
looks more uncomfortable than when I found him the other day in the elevator,
and I feel as though my life is being exposed to my brother in law. Brent is an
extraordinary lawyer, and he’s my favorite brother in law. It’s a shame he
married my least favorite sister.

“Great, let’s get this over with so that I can go home and
we can all pretend this never happened.” Alex snorts, and I give him a
questioning look, but he won’t meet my eyes as he opens up the manila envelope
to show Brent. That petty side of me feels secure sitting beside Brent instead
of being alone on the opposite side of the desk like Alex.

“I’m sure you both just want this to be over with as soon as
possible.” Brent trails off as his eyes read over the documentation line for
line. He’s a thorough lawyer, and I have no doubt that he will make this as
fair as possible for the both of us. “It looks as if this is just a clean cut. Each
party retains their own property, and there are no liabilities after the
documents are signed. It’s clean Alex. She’s not trying to swindle you.” Brent
winks at me with half a grin and Alex takes the paperwork.

He takes his time reading over it a second time, and I see a
hint of color on his cheeks when he catches Brent staring at his stitches. I
wonder how long they’ve been friends, and part of me is still worried that
Brent might let this slip during pillow talk to my sister.

“Alright. Now, what if I say no?” Brent is fiddling with a
pen in his hands, and I’m staring at my lap when Alex says this. My sharp
inhale of confusion and distrust has Brent glancing in my direction and then
staring at Alex hard.

“This is my sister in law, Alex. I would entertain some of
your crazy ideas if it were someone else, but you’re going to sign this
paperwork, now.” Alex seems to contemplate this for a long time as my jaw
slowly goes slack and my lips part. He’s actually going to fight this divorce?
I barely, scratch that, I
don’t
know this man!

“Do you want money?” I ask him in a puzzled voice. My
fingers are gripping my slacks as I try to read what he’s thinking on his face.

“No, I don’t want money. I want a clause in that document
stating that I get one date. I get to choose the time, and the length of the
date.” Brent snorts as he looks at me as if to say ‘what’s with this asshole’,
and I shrug a shoulder. Brent’s known him longer than me, and yet he looks
confused by Alex’s actions too.

“That’s asinine, preposterous, and unethical! In fact, I don’t
think that’s even legal! Is it, Brent?” His brow is furrowed, and there’s a
vertical crease right in the center of his forehead.

“It’s legal, Brent. Just make it one of the divorce terms,
and I’ll be satisfied.” My brother in law looks at me apologetically and looks
as if he’s asking permission to put this into the documentation. I don’t have
time to argue anymore, and if I say no to the date, what judge is going to say
the divorce wasn’t legally binding then? They’d laugh this one right out of
court!

“Fine, put it in there and we’ll both sign. I just need to
go home, alright?” Brent quickly scrawls in the addendum. I initial it along
with Alex, and we sign the paperwork. A weight feels as if it’s been lifted off
my shoulders as I swing my purse over my shoulder.

“You’ll send a document to my lawyer in New York?” I confirm
with Brent, and he just nods with a numb look on his face. “Remember, not a
damn word to my sister!” I don’t normally curse in front of my family, so the
word seems to bring Brent back to reality and he nods at me with a solemn look.
I leave the two of them in Alex Pope’s office and let out a whopping sigh when
the elevator door closes.

Now my life can begin again, and this mistake can be swept
under the rug. Feeling exalted, I try to reschedule my flight for this evening
rather than tomorrow. Luckily, I find a red eye flight with a few seats still
left open and figure that I’ll eat the money I spent on the other airline
ticket. Alex can’t ask me on a date if I’m not in Vegas, so I’ll never step
foot in this wretched city again.

I decide that spending some time at the airport will be
better for me than staying in the same building with that man. I almost feel
like a runaway as I step onto the elevator and out onto the sidewalk in front
of the building. The emotion fades as I settle into the back of a taxi and tell
the driver where to go. A few men and even one woman smile at me as I make my
way through the crowd to the restaurant in the airport.

I order myself a large martini and knock it back like a pro.
If Brent Hickory ever tells my sister about this, I won’t kill him. I’ll lock
him up somewhere and torture him for the rest of his life. The thought doesn’t
make me feel any better about this outcome. I try to convince myself it’s what
I wanted, but somehow this doesn’t feel as right as it should feel.