WHAT STAYS IN VEGAS

BERTA PLATAS

Chapter 1

“Honey. Tony, you need to let go. Believe me, I know how hard that is.” I tried to keep my tone even, when what I wanted to do was scream.

“No. No.” The little words came out in a whimper.

I peeled my smelly two-year-old nephew from my leg and sat him on the foyer floor. His heavy diaper squelched. It was obvious that I wasn’t cut out for motherhood. I wasn’t cut out for much except being a flight attendant, my dream job since high school. And after seven years, that dream was over.

That was why I was in the doorway of my sister’s Atlanta McMansion, wondering why my toddler nephew had answered the door.

The whimpering escalated into an impressive scream. All I’d done was ask where his mommy was. Apparently, the whereabouts of his mother, my older sister, was a traumatic thing for little Antonio. I understood how he felt.

I needed Susu, too. I needed her solid good sense. Her cooking. Her hugs. And there was a good chance that she’d turn me away, and then I’d be out of options.

I could always sit on the foyer floor and wail with Anthony. It looked kind of therapeutic, actually.

“He needs his diaper changed.” His sister Heidi was standing in the doorway, looking disgusted.

I’d always wondered why my sister had ended up naming her daughter Heidi. I hoped it was a literary connection. It sure wasn’t out of longing for some alpine homeland. We were both born in Miami, Cuban-Americans a generation away from any homeland-pining, and my brother-in-law Carl was from Boston, of Irish and German stock.

Heidi wore front-pleated orange and pink plaid pants and a polo shirt that matched nothing I’d ever seen. The fashion wrongness of it made me cringe.

I held my arms out to her, needing a hug, even if it was from a supercilious six-year-old. Say that fast six times. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

“I don’t think so. Tony’s diaper leaked on your shoe and it stinks.” She backed away silently and vanished down the hall.

I examined the unspeakable smear on the top of my suede Moschinos. No screams, no cries of anguish from me, even though these were the only shoes left to me except for a pair of ratty sneakers that I’d found in my grandfather’s tackle box. I was totally beyond hysteria.

“Heidi, come back here!” I yelled. “Where’s your mom?”

A door slammed in answer.

Great. I followed the echo. I’d never visited my sister in Alpharetta, one of Atlanta’s affluent northern suburbs. The house was huge, thousands of square feet of airy, soaring spaces on a lot that barely extended past its footprint. The kind of place you got if you were married to a successful stockbroker.

A huge golden retriever galloped past me toward the front door. I listened for Antonio’s scream, but heard only giggles. No rescue needed, thank goodness. I’m not good with dogs. Or toddlers.

It didn’t narrow my job search, since I wasn’t looking for child care or vet tech opportunities. I put those jobs right up there with stripping on the list of careers I wasn’t cut out for. There were plenty of jobs that didn’t involve children, pets, or pole dancing.

I walked through the house, sidestepping toys and pizza boxes. Susana must be totally depressed. She was normally such a neat freak. I hated to add my woes to hers, but she was the only person I could turn to.

Our mother had died when I was in high school, and Dad was in Europe with wife number five. That left only Susu to comfort me, and I needed it by the pitcher, not the glass.

“Susu? Baby, it’s me. I need a teensy favor.” No answer. I pushed open the door to the master suite.

Her bedroom was enormous. A pillared bed dramatically draped in gauzy curtains was plunked in the middle of a sea of eggplant-colored carpet. It was unmade, with mounds of bedclothes in the middle. Was she there? I inched toward the bed, then took a big breath, unaware that I’d been holding it. Empty. She wasn’t huddled under blankets, feeling sorry for herself, sleeping away her depression.

It was so boring to deal with the drunk and depressed. My last roommate had been a drinker, and it made her choice of bedmates my morning surprise. Who would I see while I made coffee? An executive? A dirty-jeaned cowboy? My female boss?

That last one had probably gotten me on the short list for the first round of layoffs at the airline. I’d been a flight attendant for three years, ever since I’d left college out of deep loathing for higher math, and my pay had risen steadily during that time.

My plan had been to work, travel, and have fun. Then I’d retire and travel and have more fun. That agenda was trashed two months ago, when the airline’s finances had tanked and I was out of a job. Since then I’d lived on my severance pay and my credit cards, and I’d looked for a job I could do. I couldn’t type, didn’t know a computer from an ATM and didn’t have a college degree.

What I had was great legs and maxed-out credit cards. Despite my distaste for math, I could also do currency conversions in my head, which gave me hope that I could snag a job at the Atlanta airport’s international concourse, just until the airlines started hiring again.

“Susu? Are you in here?” A toilet flushed and I scooted back out the door, pretending I’d just stuck my head in. The bathroom door was flung open and my brother-in-law Carl stepped out.

I stared, unable to speak. Carl was in white socks and tighty whities and nothing else. And those tighties were stuffed. Someone needed to invent support undergarments for men who were blessed by nature. I’d had no idea.

“Anita, what are you doing here?”

“I came to visit. Where’s Susu?”

“She should have been home two hours ago. Don’t you ever pay your phone bills? I couldn’t reach you at home or on your cell.” He stood there, his johnson curled like a big snake in his undies. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, so I stared at my feet and the smear Antonio had left on my shoe.

“I’ve got a lead on a job here in Atlanta. Can I stay for a few days?”

“Stay as long as you want.” He walked over to his dresser, pulled out a pair of folded jeans and put them on. “What’s that on your shoe?”

“Baby shit.”

“Tony, huh? Did you change him?” He caught the look on my face and rolled his eyes. “If you stay here, you have to help with the chores.” He started down the hall and I trotted after him.

“Aren’t you worried about Susu? Where did she go?”

Carl stopped and turned around. “Yoga.” He laughed at the look on my face. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”

The dog started barking and Antonio squealed. The front door opened.

“How’s my precious poop machine? Both of you?”

I ran back downstairs, not anxious to be caught with my half-naked brother-in-law. “Su, I thought you’d run away.”

“Anita! You look fabulous, darling.” A thin, gorgeous redhead wearing my sister’s face threw her arms around me and squeezed me hard.

I pushed her away and stared her up and down. Where was the graying brown hair, the lush curves, the trio of chins? The denim jumper, white ankle socks, and white Keds?

This woman was stunning. Susu had remade herself. She twirled. “What do you think?”

“Wow. I’m speechless, sis. What happened?”

“I woke up one morning and said, ‘I’m thirty years old, forty pounds overweight, and I’ll be damned if I look like this when I’m forty.’ So I started running, quit eating doughnuts, and colored my hair.”

“Carl must have fallen in love all over again.”

Her grin faded. “He’s mostly confused. I’ve been doing yoga for five months, and my teacher wants me to teach some of the newbies. Carl’s freaked out.”

I tried not to look at the trash on the floor or the fluffy drifts of dog hair in the corners. “He feels threatened because his life’s changed.”

“Look at you, the psychologist now. They run an article in the in-flight magazine?”

Ouch. She’d always cracked snide remarks about my intelligence without actually coming out and saying that she thought I was dumb. This trip was getting less comforting by the minute.

She pulled my aromatic nephew off of her leg, which he’d been clutching as if it was a life raft. “Come on mi amor, time to change that awful diaper.”

She held him at arm’s length as she walked up the stairs. I followed. I still hadn’t told her I was staying there.

“So, could you use a little help around the house for a while?”

“Thinking of applying for the job?” She yanked the diaper off of Antonio, releasing an ungodly stench, and threw the whole thing onto a lidded bucket. It hit with a hefty thump, then slid slowly off. A little of its contents oozed onto the carpet.

I backed away.

The baby stood quietly while she wiped him down with scented Baby Wipes, leaving clean streaks on his brown-stuccoed backside.

I got queasy if I saw a dot of dried urine on the floor of an otherwise clean toilet. I could not do this mommy thing.

“I could help with some things,” I said cautiously.

“I got your phone message about the job. Sorry I didn’t call back.”

“I understand. You’re busy. But I’ve got an interview at the airport. If I get the job—”

“You want to stay here until you get back on your feet?”

I nodded. She’d always been quick.

“Stay as long as you want, querida. Rent-free. But I’ll need you to help with the chores. And the kids.”

The smell of the diaper bucket was intense. Either way I’d be in deep doo, but industrial-strength rubber gloves would solve one situation.

“No problem.” Relief made me light-headed. I wondered if I’d been holding my breath, waiting for her decision.

She was my big sister, and when our mom had died when I was nineteen, she’d taken on that role, too. Despite her young, new look, I depended on her to be the sensible one.

After the baby was clean, Susu showed me to the guest bedroom. With pink-striped sheets on a sleigh bed covered in a quilt with all different kinds of roses on it, set off by taupe walls, it looked like a photo spread from Martha Stewart Living magazine. “Your bathroom’s through that door.” She turned and left me alone.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the oval mirror over the old-fashioned dresser and stopped to fix my hair. It was dark brown, and the gold highlights I’d added before the job fiasco needed to be touched up. Otherwise, I looked the same. Green eyes, clear skin, wide mouth that I hated but guys loved.

My looks had gotten me my first job, and they’d probably help me get my next one. I lay down without unpacking. A nap would keep the stress circles away.

I woke up again when Susu stuck her head in the door. “Anita? I’m going to a birthday party for a friend of mine. Want to come along?”

“Tonight?” I glanced at my watch. It was almost six. I’d slept three hours. “What about dinner for the kids?”

“Fed them already. I’m leaving in an hour if you want to join us.” She pulled the door closed.

Leaving at seven, on a weeknight? That was something I seldom did, especially if I had a flight early the next day. I shrugged and decided that aside from the spotted high heel, I should be okay in my pinstriped interview suit and floral silk camisole. It better be. I didn’t have anything else.

At seven I grabbed my bag and ran downstairs. Carl was watching television in the den, a huge room with a floor-to-ceiling stacked stone fireplace and leather furniture covered in colorful pillows and throws.

He didn’t glance up as we passed. “See you later,” Susu called out. She turned to me. “He never pays attention.” She looked me up and down. “You’re all chic. This is sort of a casual place, but they get business types, so you won’t stick out too much.”

“Great.” I didn’t even own a pair of jeans anymore, so it would be hard to dress down. I thought of all the clothes I’d lost when I got evicted. The curbside stack had been practically picked clean when I returned from an interview. I had the clothes I’d interviewed in, some underwear, and my abuelo’s tackle box sneakers.

When we got back to the house I’d go shopping in Susu’s closet. She seemed to have gotten over her frumpy wardrobe and into decent clothes, and now that she’d lost weight, some of them would fit me. She wouldn’t mind.

We took off in the minivan, Susu dressed in a cute sundress and strappy sandals, and me in an interview suit with baby shit on the toe of my shoe. My new life had gotten off to a fabulous start.

Chapter 2

The party was at a private residence, a house as big as Susu’s but on the Chattahoochee River. It cost millions to live on the banks of the Hooch. I appreciated the foyer, with its huge arrangements of fresh flowers. The vast room beyond it was bordered by a deck overlooking the churning waters below.

“Some house,” I whispered to my sister.

She laughed and took my arm. “Becky’s wife number three. To the winner go the spoils.”

Becky looked like she was maybe nineteen. A poised nineteen, but she didn’t even look old enough to vote. A humongous painting of Becky and her spouse took up part of the opposite wall. Mr. Becky was balding and pink-skinned, with shiny black eyes. He looked like Porky Pig.

The birthday girl was Susu’s age, but so leathery from the sun that her flesh seemed cured, like a hide. All of the women wore lots of jewelry and expensive casual clothes. Susu mingled with them, air-kissing and hugging as if she’d known them all of her life.

“Did you come straight from work, dear?” one of the big-toothed women said, laying a French-manicured hand on my arm. I hadn’t been touched so much since the last time I’d booked a massage.

“I flew in this morning. I’m staying with Susu for a few days.”

“How charming. Where do you live?” The question seemed sincere.

“I lived near Los Angeles. Playa del Rey. I hope to live here now.”

The hand withdrew. “And you aren’t married, right?”

“Right. Single.” I smiled reassuringly. “Not looking, either.” I meant to imply that her husband was safe, but when she winked and said she understood, I wondered what exactly she thought she’d heard.

We stayed at the party until three in the morning. I kept tapping my watch whenever Susu looked my way, but she ignored the hints.

She also drank like a thirsty guest at a Cuban wedding, leaving me to drive her polluted ass home. This was so unlike my sober, clean-living older sister. She snored, face pressed flat against the passenger side window, red hair stuck to her sweaty cheek.

What a lovely picture she made. What would Carl think? What did Carl think of his wife’s different look, her new friends, her late night parties?

This was not the comforting home I’d fled to. I wanted the old Susu back. The one with the pillowy bosom, who baked cookies and cuddled her children and kept a spotless house. The one whose husband smiled all the time and told corny jokes, instead of watching TV all evening, sullen and solitary in a landfill of a house.

My life had gone to hell, but I’d thought that hell was confined to LAX and its environs. I left everything behind to come to Atlanta. Well, okay, everything had been taken from me, but I didn’t expect my sister to be included on that list.

As I helped her up the stairs, bumping into walls, I thought about the raccoon circles I’d have under my eyes in the morning. So much for beauty sleep.

Carl opened the bedroom door and took Susu from my grasp. Our eyes met in the night-light’s dim glow and he turned away, as if he was embarrassed that I’d seen her like this. Then the bedroom door closed and I heard her wild giggles through the wall. I was alone in the hall. Carl was caring for Susu, but who would take care of me?

 

I accompanied Susu, miraculously not hung over, on her rounds the next day. Play dates, doctors visits, yoga classes, and shopping.

“I don’t know how you do it all.” I slipped my sunglasses on as we left the babysitter’s house. The sun was brilliant today, but mostly I was embarrassed to be seen in the minivan.

Susu waved a hand airily. “One thing at a time. Like beads on a necklace, until it’s all accomplished.”

She shot a look at me. “What about you? What’s up with you now?”

I told her about my eviction and my airport job interview.

“You have no savings, you’ve lost everything you own, and you don’t look like you care. What is it with you, Anita?”

“What?”

She stomped on the brake, sending us both toward the dash. The car behind us honked. She swerved into a church parking lot and pulled around to the side of the yellow brick building.

My seat belt locked and I leaned back to give it some slack. “What was that for?”

She stared straight ahead, brows together. She looked furious. “All my life I wanted to please Mom and Dad. I did everything they asked me to, and you did none of it. I went to school, got good grades, dated in college, and had sex for the first time with the man I married. You smoked, you swore, you skipped church, and you snuck around with boys.”

All true so far. I waited for the revelation.

She banged on the steering wheel and turned teary eyes toward me. Her nose was red and her skin blotchy.

“And you know what Mom said when she was in the hospital, dying? She wanted to see you. She said to tell you she loved you.”

I felt my mouth sag open. “You never told me.”

“What good would it have done? I didn’t want to hurt you, but I was so mad at you. You weren’t there for her.”

“I was in the cafeteria with Dad. Give me a break.” I was starting to get pissed off, and dizzy with emotion. Mom asked for me, and I hadn’t been there. “Where’s this headed, Susu?”

“It’s headed nowhere, that’s where. I’ve done everything right, you’ve done everything wrong.” She started to wail. “It’s not fair!”

“Are you saying you envy my unemployed, evicted, homeless lifestyle?” I looked around, but no one had noticed us there. At least we weren’t having this meltdown in traffic. I opened my door. “Here, let’s walk a bit. We’ll get some air. It’ll be good for us.”

I stepped out of the van and was about to close the door when she came surging over the console and through my door, landing with both feet planted on asphalt. I took a few steps back and she grabbed the neck of my jacket and pulled me short.

“You are not running away, Anita. We are going to talk this out.” She looked like a demon. I swear her eyes had red fire in them.

“I wasn’t going anywhere. I was waiting for you, you crazy bitch.” I covered my mouth. Oops. Not what you say to a crazy bitch.

She slapped me. I took it. I deserved it. Apparently she liked it so much that her hand started to swing back, open-palmed, for a second helping of Sorority Smackdown.

“Hold it right there, hermana. Look where we are.”

Her eyes never left mine. “I was the good one. You did whatever the hell you wanted. Even after she died. I know that you got arrested for underage drinking. I know what happened with that guy from UGA, I know about the lawyer who was married.”

“What, did you hire a detective? What does it matter? That lawyer was a long time ago.”

“Three years was not a long time ago, Anita.”

“So? What’s gotten into you? Have you found religion or something? Want me to repent?”

“Would you?”

“I’m kind of on the verge.”

She laughed, and it was evil sounding. “On the verge? Why, because things aren’t going your way?” She hiccuped. “Anita always gets her way, and now she’s had a little setback and she comes running to Sister Su.”

“You were always there for me, Susu. You’re so maternal.”

Her hand shot out and smacked me again. This time I saw stars. Enough. I hooked a foot behind her knee and pulled her leg out from under her. She fell, then rolled up onto her hands and knees. I turned and started back to the van, but she tackled me before I took the second step.

My teeth hit the grass on the side of the parking lot. She was lighter, but she’d carried a lot of momentum. I spat out dirt and grass, swiveled my hips, got a knee under me and pushed her off, then pinned her with my body. Blood dripped onto her frantic face. Oh shit. I was hurt.

“What’s going on, Susu? What’s the matter with you?”

“I was the good one,” she cried, twisting under me, trying to get purchase to toss me off. “I was good, and you—you—” She sobbed. Her eyes lost a little of their craziness, and then focused on my face above her. She looked horrified.

“What?” I shook her shoulders a little. “What were you going to say? That I was bad? Well I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, tears leaking down the sides of her face and into her crazy red hair. “No, not bad. Fun. I was good, but you had fun.” She sobbed again. “I’ll never have fun like that Anita, I never will.”

The police found us on our knees, crying, arms around each other. The young cop who came out of the car looked as if he was trying not to laugh.

“You ladies okay? We had a report of a scuffle.”

I learned a long time ago to always be nice to cops, no matter what the situation. “It’s okay, officer,” I said, trying to smile. My lip had swollen and the words came out wrong. The smile didn’t happen at all.

Susu had apparently not gotten that memo. She jumped up, breaking free of my arms. “Who? Who called the cops?” She looked around wildly. “It was someone in the church, wasn’t it?”

“I can’t say, ma’am. You all need to get in your car and move along.”

“Yes, sir.” I tried for the smile again.

“You goddamn people need to mind your own business!” Susu screamed. She picked up a rock from the prayer garden that bordered one side of the parking lot and heaved it at the building. A classroom window shattered.

She turned around, a look of wild glee in her face.

Totally nuts.

The cops were coming at her from either side, trying to corral her. I thought about jumping into the minivan and just taking off and leaving her insane self to them.

I remembered what she said about our mom, who had died in her arms while I was grabbing coffee with Daddy. She wouldn’t want me to ditch my sister, even if she had gone insane.

“Susu, just calm down, you’re making things worse for yourself.” I got in closer to the tangle of navy blue arms and Susu arms and tried to grasp my sister.

“Ma’am, we’ll need you to back away.” The cop was huffing and puffing from the exertion. Susu wasn’t even breathing hard, except to scream. That yoga really paid off.

“She’s my sister, officer. I can take care of her.” I’m not sure what he heard from my swollen lip. It was like having a water balloon pinned to my mouth.

Susu got an arm loose and punched the cop in the nose. He pulled back and his elbow clocked me in the lip again. It hurt so much that I slapped his ear. Oops.

I thought I’d at least get an apology from Susu, but she sat stiff and hard-eyed as we were put in the back of the patrol car. My interview suit was a mess and one of the heels had come off of my Moschinos.

Handcuffs, and I wasn’t even in the bedroom. This was a week full of firsts.

 

Carl bailed us out.

“Disorderly conduct.” He closed the door on his wife’s side of the car and held the handle of mine, ready to do the same. “Good thing the kids weren’t in the car.”

He shook his head, closed the door and drove us home. It was a quiet trip, because Susu wasn’t speaking and I had two stitches in my lip.

Heidi was excited to see us. She’d been told we were in an accident and wanted to see my stitches. I went straight to bed, knocked out by painkillers, the booking process, and my sister’s revelation.

Close to daybreak I had a weird dream that Susu was sitting on my bed, caressing my upper arm and crying. “I love you, Anita. I’m sorry I was so jealous. I’m sorry I’m making my husband and my children suffer. I just want to have a little fun. Something to remember when I’m old.”

“It’s overrated,” I tried to say, but my lips were stuck together from the salve I’d put on them.

When I woke up, late the next morning, Susu was gone.

“What do you mean, gone?” It was hard to speak with a swollen lip.

“Gone as in took a cab and left with a suitcase.” Carl looked as if he was one step away from the deep end. He was flinging starched, folded shirts into a huge pilot case.

“You’ll have to check a suitcase that size. Why don’t you choose a smaller bag?”

He didn’t stop. Tennis shoes, hiking boots, and thermal underwear.

“Carl, I doubt she’s gone to the Arctic Circle. Where are you going, and what are you going to look for?” And are you leaving me here alone in charge of the kids? Yikes.

No answer.

“And say you find her. What’ll you do then? Toss her over your shoulder, or put her in this suitcase? Get real.”

That got him. He whirled to face me. “Get real? I’ll show you real.” He flung open the door, where Heidi was listening, wide-eyed. “Real enough for you?”

Heidi straightened, looked at both of us, and ran down to her room. Her door slammed.

“Do you think she knows?”

“That her mother’s gone?” Carl’s laugh was short and bitter. “Oh yeah. She woke up when Susu left. Luckily, Tony’s still asleep, so keep it down.”

Damn. I left Carl to his crazy-ass packing and knocked on my niece’s door. No answer, so I opened it and went in. The room was spotless, every Barbie and Diva doll in place, a teddy bear tea in full swing on tiny tables and chairs in one corner.

Little feet stuck out from under the Disney princess dust ruffle on the bed.

I sat on the bed carefully. “Well. Looks like Heidi’s gone somewhere. Too bad. I was going to tell her that I was going to bring her mommy home. Guess I can’t. Wonder if she knows where her mommy went?”

Silence.

“I wonder if those teddy bears know? Excuse me? Hate to interrupt your tea party, but do any of you know where Heidi’s mom has gone?”

“Las Vegas,” A little voice said from under the bed.

“Really?” Was she making it up? Would a little girl who didn’t live in Nevada or visit the city know about Las Vegas? “Las Vegas. Did she tell you that?”

“She said she was going to Las Vegas.” Her little girl’s voice went deeper as she did a darn fine impression of her mother’s faux Georgia accent. “Las Vegas, land of slots and sluts.”

Well, there was a word little girls didn’t often say. Susu was definitely headed to Nevada. “Thanks, Heidi. I’ll bring your mommy back. And when I do, let’s get a pedicure.”

Her little toes wiggled good-bye.

I had to haul my crazy sister home, but where in sin city would I look?

Chapter 3

I’d been to Paris three times, and I wasn’t sure if this one counted as the fourth. The Eiffel Tower was there. The little cobblestoned streets and boulangeries filled with tasty treats were there. The hordes of American tourists were there. But so were long rows of blinking, chiming, singing slot machines.

The Paris Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, the theme park version of the City of Lights, was where Susu had booked a room, according to the receipt she’d left in her computer’s printer tray, almost as if she was daring us to find her.

She’d bought a round-trip ticket and hotel package from an online service. Carl had immediately started to look for flights, although I tried to convince him that he was the last person she’d want to see there.

I guess I don’t get any points for tact. But honestly, she was running away from a situation that she needed to face. Having the main instigator chase her to Las Vegas was not going to help.

A couple of calls to my friends at Delta got me a first-class seat on the red-eye. Thank goodness for the severance package that allowed me to fly with my old privileges.

I raided Susu’s closet while Carl was tied up on the phone. One look at her so-called wardrobe and I realized one reason why she’d been so depressed. She hadn’t thrown any of her “fat” clothes away, and they were like an open door beckoning her back to her old weight. She also hadn’t left behind any of her new clothes, darn her.

I didn’t have a stitch to my name and no time to buy more right now, although I’d be giving Carl’s credit card a workout shortly.

In the meantime, my Prada tote was packed with Susu’s cotton granny panties. I refused to wear the denim jumper and white tennis shoe outfit, nor the fleece ensembles that were a far cry from Juicy Couture.

I was in a navy blue JCPenney suit that screamed “junior office clerk,” but it was the only decent outfit my sister owned. It hung on me. With my stitched-up lip, I must have been quite a sight.

Before I got on the plane I called the hotel from a pay phone, identified myself as Susu, and added my sister Anita to my room. The hotel clerk asked the usual questions, but I was ready for them, with everything from Susu’s address to her Social Security number. I told myself that it wasn’t identity theft, it was a family rescue.

The flight attendants on the trip out were kind, plying me with juice and drinks because I couldn’t chew peanuts or pretzels. I wasn’t good at talking, either. It hurt more today than it had yesterday.

Las Vegas is a 24/7 town, so I had no trouble grabbing a shuttle to the hotel. I walked past the reservation desk and headed straight to the house phones and once more pretended to be Susu, asking if my sister Anita had checked in yet.

“Not yet,” the clerk answered.

I smiled into the phone and went to check in. Was I sneaky, or what?

“Has my sister Susana checked in yet?”

“She has.” The elegantly dressed reception clerk smiled as she took my driver’s license and photocopied it. I held my breath until the clerk returned, smiling.

I slipped the key card into my jacket pocket and tried not to race to the elevators. I wanted this over with and my sister back home where she could take care of me, damn it.

The elevators were crowded and I had to wait until one arrived that had room for me and my suitcase full of ugly borrowed clothes. When the brass doors opened again, twelve half-naked hunks grinned at me.

Hallelujah. One hour in Vegas and I’d already hit the jackpot. I squeezed in and rode upstairs in a wave of body heat and testosterone.

By the time I got to my floor I knew they were part of a boxing team in town for a big Golden Gloves match, and that they’d been downstairs working out. When the doors slid open I pocketed the list of names and hotel room numbers. I had dates lined up for the next three days. Seems boxers are fascinated by women with stitched-up lips.

I slid the key card into the door and eased it open. The light was turned off and there was no noise. I debated sneaking around in the dark. What the heck. If she was here, she’d know about it soon enough. I flipped the light on. The place was a mess. Susu had made herself at home.

Clothes were draped over every surface, and there were shoes all over the floor. I stared at a large pair of men’s deck shoes set neatly by the desk. Uh-oh.

The bathroom counter held a man’s toiletry kit, along with Susu’s signature rose-perfumed lotions and bath gel.

I backed out of the room, turning the lights off. I was so not telling my brother-in-law about this.

Back in the lobby I booked another room, smaller, but with a truly superior bathroom. No tub, but a shower that would hold six comfortably. Something to keep in mind when I partied later.

I thought about what to do next. Watch her hotel room door? Hang out at the bar? This was not the town where you could ask if anyone had seen a crazy redhead. The place was infested with them.

After stuffing the hideous clothes in a drawer, I went downstairs, hoping for a Susu sighting. No luck. Nothing to do now but to get decent, and that meant a trip across the street to the Bellagio, and the best shopping this side of Rodeo Drive.

When I returned I was dragging three full shopping bags, and Carl’s Amex card was feeling heavy. What better reward from a grateful spouse than to outfit his needy sister-in-law after she returned his runaway wife? This was powerful incentive to succeed.

I dashed upstairs and changed into one of my new outfits, a pair of Diesel jeans, a fluttery Diane von Furstenburg top, and a pair of Kate Spade flats.

At least my lip had subsided from plum-sized to Angelina Jolie. The pain was something else, but I hadn’t filled the pain medicine subscription, (a) because I’d had no money, and (b) because I didn’t want to be doped up when I found Susu, although I was craving a cocktail in the worst way. Feeling more like myself, I went downstairs on a Susu hunt.

Two hours later I sat at the bar, sipping a Cosmo through a straw from the normal side of my fat lip, watching a clown work the crowd waiting at the restaurant’s wrought-iron gates. The clown wore baggy black pants, a tight black and white striped T-shirt, a red scarf tied around his neck, and a black beret at a jaunty angle. He was built. A flash of red hair shot by, trailed by Susu’s unique laugh.

I jumped from the bar stool and followed, maneuvering through the maze of slot machines and dazed tourists up way past their bedtimes.

It was Susu all right. She was in the elevator banks, leaning against the wall, with a man slobbering all over her neck. Her head was thrown back, like a victim in a vampire movie, and her mouth was making little ooh-ooh sounds.

Gross, but at least I could get her back to Atlanta before Carl showed up. I’d almost reached them when the man heard my rapid footsteps and looked up. He wasn’t a man. He was a kid. I stopped dead. I’d been expecting George Clooney, but this was Orlando Bloom.

Susu’s eyes opened and after a second focused. On me. “Anita!”

“Anita? Like, your sister?” The kid looked at me with interest. Who knows what crazy tales she’d told him?

“That’s me. Who are you?”

He extended a hand. “Rod Patterson. Of Patterson Tires fame.”

“I’ve never heard of Patterson Tires.”

He blushed. “Not here, of course. But we have twenty-five stores in California.”

“Congratulations. Susu, can we talk?”

Susu pushed away from the wall. She was wearing a black satin corset thing with a short skirt that laced up the sides of her hips and no underwear to speak of.

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about, Anita, and I don’t know how you found me, but you can go home now.”

“No can do. Homeless, remember? Unlike you, who has a nice house, and a husband. And two kids. Remember them?” I added those last for Tire Boy’s benefit.

He smiled. “Susu told me all about them.”

The elevator door opened behind them and Susu grabbed young Master Patterson and pulled him into the car. She punched a button and the door slid shut before I could jump in, too.

I stepped back and watched the numbers on the digital display. They stopped at four. I smiled. Gotcha.

My triumph was short-lived. The fourth floor, like all the other floors of this hotel, consisted of several intersecting homogenized corridors. Same rugs, same doors, and just about soundproofed. Was it 426 or 456? The card in my pocket was unmarked, damn it.

Beside the elevators was a doorway marked STAIRS, which further deflated my joy. They could have jumped off here and walked to another floor.

By now it was almost three in the morning. I went down the hallways, listening. A couple of late night partiers gave me weird looks as they staggered past, then I got a hit.

Insane giggles bubbled through a door. I’d heard that drunken laugh before.

“Susu, open up!”

The giggles stopped. I prepared my speech about her poor children. Poor little Heidi. Poor baby Tony. Poor me.

The door swung open. “You asking for Susu?” The guy was wearing what looked like a shiny wet suit and a mask. The wet suit was attached by crisscrossed cords tied over a basketball-shaped belly covered in black hair.

Was Susu a nympho? And why was she punishing herself? This guy was beyond gross. “Yes. Is she here?”

He stepped aside. “See for yourself.”

I took one step closer and looked over his shoulder. A woman was tied to the bed, face covered with a hood.

“Susu?”

The man giggled and reached for me. I fell backward, grabbed the doorjamb and ran like hell. The guy was the giggler, and it couldn’t have been Susu on the bed, since there hadn’t been enough time since I’d last seen her for Susu to be hooded and tied up.

It seemed to be consensual weirdness, but not for me. At the end of the hall I stopped, gasping. Thank goodness for flats. I wouldn’t have made it in my doomed Moschinos.

I looked down the hall at the endless doors, each neatly labeled with a room number. Impossible. I opened the stairwell door and headed two floors up to my room.

The room next to mine was having a raucous party. I thought briefly that it might be them, but it was a card party. I fell asleep to hysterical cries of “Go Fish.”

Anything goes in Vegas.

The telephone awoke me an hour later. I fumbled for the receiver. “Fire?”

“No. Who’s Fire?” It was Carl.

“Not who. What. I thought there must be a fire, because it’s four in the morning.”

“Oh. It’s seven here. I thought I’d call to see if you found her.”

“I did, last night. But it was so late I didn’t want to bother you. Thought you might be asleep.” I waited, but no apology came for waking me up out of mine.

“You have her? You’re not dicking around, are you?”

I almost laughed. If anyone was allowed to use that phrase, it was Big Carl. “You heard me, right? I don’t have her, but I did see her. She didn’t want to talk to me. She’s safe, she’s here. I’ll catch up with her. Stick tight, keep your cell phone handy. Say hi to the kids from Aunt Anita.”

I hung up and fell back asleep, but the damage had been done. I dreamed that Carl was there, and his freakishly huge dick was chasing me around the room. When I caught up with my cradle-robbing sister I needed to ask her if the Tire Kid was better than what she had at home.

I was up at eleven A.M., local time. I showered and dressed and headed downstairs to breakfast. Afterward I wondered what to do. I wasn’t cut out for this amateur detective business. Too impatient, and it seemed like I’d be spending a lot of time watching and waiting.

I wasn’t worried that I’d miss Susu and Baby Rod. The way they’d been chewing on each other’s faces, they’d probably been at it all night and were right now either in mid-bunny or sleeping it off.

I thought wistfully of the deep sleep that only comes after satisfying sex, and got so worked up that I bought three more pairs of shoes and a killer silk Nicole Miller dress in red. This was such a party town. You had to be prepared, you know?

My mood about seven hundred dollars lighter, I went back to Paris and stopped at the Café Ile St. Louis, where I’d had breakfast. I ordered a café au lait and skimmed the New York Times. I didn’t notice Baby Boy Patterson slip into the seat opposite mine until he poked his head over the top of my newspaper.

“I’ll bet that’s popular at the frat house.” I picked up my coffee, ready to either sip nonchalantly or throw it in his face.

He sat back down. “How’d you know?”

I folded the paper. “Because I was young once.”

He snorted. “Yeah, like you’re a crone.”

“I’m twenty-four. You’re what? Seventeen?”

“Twenty-two.” He was sulking now, his lower lip stuck out. Or he was doing an impression of me?

“Susu’s almost forty.” She’d kill me if she heard me say that. She’d just turned thirty.

“She’s hot.”

“Yeah, and you’re going to get hurt, you little homewrecker you.” My expression was probably not the friendliest, because he quit being defensive and sat up straight, watching me warily.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.” I sighed. “No. But Susu’s all confused. She’s going through some rough times. This is me being nice and telling you to back off or she’ll drag you through it, too.” I eyed him, his expensive haircut, his black on black striped shirt. Ben Sherman, I bet. My last fling had one just like it. “I was right, wasn’t I? You’re in school?”

“Yeah. I’m a senior at Princeton.”

La de da. “So where did you meet my sister?”

“Online.”

“Oh, brother.”

“No, really. It’s great. We can talk about anything. She is so awesome. And we have so much in common—”

“Diapers, a mortgage, a husband?”

He gave me a look. “She told me about all that. Anyway, we decided that this would be a great place to meet.” He waved around.

“So you hadn’t met before yesterday?” And she said I worked fast.

“Not in person, but we’d e-mailed and chatted online so much, I felt as if she was my best friend.” His face glowed when he talked about Susu. Not good.

“Listen, Rod.” I grabbed his still-waving hand. He must have had some Italian in his background. “My sister’s all the family I’ve got. What she has for you is probably hormonal. Like, a hot flash or something. She’ll come to her senses soon.” Please, God. Very soon. “I don’t want you to get hurt, either.”

“You’re wrong, Anita. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He tried to tug his hand out of my grasp, but I held it tighter, then added my other hand. He pulled and I pulled. It slowly got closer to me. The whole while he was talking about how great Susu was.

A man’s voice cut through his protests. “I thought Mom was hysterical, but here you are. What the hell do you think you’re doing, Rod?”

Distracted, Rod quit pulling and his hand hit my breast and stayed there. I released him and he pulled back, knocking my coffee cup over. Café au lait spilled sideways, pooling at the edge of the table before forming a fast drip to the floor.

Rod and I both leaped to mop it up and banged our heads together. The guy who’d upset him laughed, an evil-sounding bark. I turned and saw an older version of Rod.

This guy was more Clooney than Bloom, and would have been very yummy if it wasn’t for the sneer on his face.

Rod was standing, almost at attention, next to the table. I looked up at the newcomer. “I’m impressed. How are you with dogs?”

“Dogs?”

“You seem to have Rod trained to salute when you show up. Can you do the same with dogs?”

“Rod’s not trained, or he’d still be at school. In class.”

I turned to Rod. “You left school during classes?”

He shrugged. “Just for a few days.”

That’s all Susu was to him. Fun for a few days. I wondered if she felt the same. If so, then this whole thing would blow over and I could get her home. If not, my deluded sib was going to be hurt. Hurt and divorced, because Carl was going to dump her cheating ass.

My money was on the mutual fun theory. I beamed. “Well why didn’t you say so?”

The brother glared at me. “Who are you?”

“Anita Suarez. I’m Susu’s sister.” I held out my hand.

He didn’t take it. One eyebrow went up. “Sister?”

Helpful Rod chimed in. “Yeah. Remember, I told you about her? Anita’s the slut.”

Chapter 4

I don’t know why I didn’t just deck him. A good piñazo with my closed fist, one that would make my boxing buddies proud.

Instead, I stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish’s. The slut. That hurt.

“I’m Chris Patterson.” He extended a hand. I shook hands with him, grateful for his adult attitude. “I apologize for the moron.”

“Some brother you are. That’s not nice.” Rod looked insulted.

“Not nice? You call me a slut, and he’s not nice?” I couldn’t believe this idiot.

“I didn’t call you that. Your sister did. I was just quoting.”

“You’d better shut up before she lets you have it.” Chris’s face looked like a storm front was moving through.

“I’m going upstairs.” Rod nodded to me and pushed past his brother.

“Meet me in the lobby in thirty minutes.” Chris glanced at his watch. “We can catch the next shuttle to the airport and catch the two o’clock to Newark.”

Rod shrugged and kept walking toward the elevators.

“He’s such a kid.” Chris looked down at the mess on my table. “Can I get you another one of those?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll head upstairs, too.”

“To warn your sister?”

He didn’t merit an answer. My newspaper was ruined, so I abandoned it. I dropped a five on the table as an apology to whoever would have to bus this mess and headed out of the café.

A strong hand on my upper arm pulled me short. I stared down at it, then at Chris. “And here I was, thinking you were better than your brother. Let go or I’ll scream.”

“Scream and I’ll kiss you. Happens here all the time. No one will look twice.”

“You are so disturbed. And I don’t even want to know how you came up with that lame line. Scream and I’ll kiss you.” I snorted, not an easy thing to do. Get it wrong and it sounds like you have a cold. Or worse, you end up with an embarrassing nose thing and no tissue handy.

He looked at me, expressionless. “Where’s your sister?”

“Why ask me? You should have asked your brother.” I’d wanted to follow Rod upstairs and find where they were, but he was long gone. “Too late.”

Chris looked toward the elevators, then back at me. “Damn. I thought you were in on it. You mean you don’t know where they are?”

“In this hotel somewhere. I’ve been leaving them messages since I got in yesterday, but no luck.”

He cursed. “He’s going to blow the semester. You know how hard it is to get into Princeton? The idiot.”

“Is that where you went?”

He glared at me. I shivered. He was so George Clooney. Angry George Clooney.

 

Carl had left a brief phone message to call him. I dialed, and he answered right away.

“I’d come, but someone’s got to stay here and take care of the kids.”

“It’s better to let me handle it, Carl. We’ll be back soon.” I didn’t mention Rod. I’d always thought that Carl was a dull, plodding kind of guy, but he was looking better all the time. Especially since Susu’d gone nuts.

I promised to call him later, then called the front desk to leave a message for Susu.

“She’s checked out,” the clerk said.

“Try Rod Patterson.”

“Yes. I’ll connect you to Mr. Patterson’s room.”

Bingo. The phone rang three times, and then the voice mailbox picked up.

“Susu, it’s Anita. Carl’s really worried about you. He’s in Atlanta with the kids, but he’s dying to come out here and I don’t know how long I can hold him off. Call me, okay? I’m in room 752.”

I didn’t know what else to say. Rod had probably already warned her that his brother was here, looking for them. I hung up without saying good-bye.

If you’re not gambling, and you’re not with friends, Las Vegas is the world’s most boring city. By three that afternoon I was ready to scream. I’d been keeping an eye on the front lobby, on the off chance that Chris would succeed in talking his brother into returning home. They’d have to walk right past me.

The time for the flight to New Jersey came and went, and no Patterson boys.

Had my sister been kidnapped by aliens, or what? She’d changed so much. My solid, mature sister was running around with a guy almost ten years younger. It would be hysterical if it wasn’t so pathetic.

I was the one who was always accused of being selfish and wild, and here I was, trying to get her back to her old life. I dragged myself upstairs, nursing a headache from the constant noise of the slot machines.

I was snoozing through Jerry Springer when the phone rang. I jumped, mentally rehearsing what I’d tell Susu.

“Babe. Ready to party?” The lightly accented male voice wasn’t familiar.

“Who is this?”

“Bernardo. Remember, from the bar last night? We compared fat lips.”

The boxer!

“Bernardo, of course. How’s the lip?”

“Better. I iced it. How’s yours?”

“Much improved. Do you have a fight tonight?”

“Not me. Not till day after tomorrow. I thought you might want to party with us tonight. A bunch of us are going to catch a couple of shows, maybe go dancing. How about it?”

I looked at the TV. Springer was muted. I’d slept through it, and could expect more of the same. I’d go insane.

“Where do you want to meet?”

“I can come up.”

“Ha ha. Good try. I’ll meet you in the lobby, at the foot of the Eiffel Tower.”

“Cool with me. See you there.”

I jumped into the shower, feeling energized again. If Susu was going to be the death of me, I might was well have a little fun before I died.

 

The house beat was hot at Ra’s. We were deep inside the pyramid at Luxor, dancing under the spread wings of the Egyptian god.

Bernardo was a dancing fiend, and I laughed as I worked to keep up with him. The night had been great. We’d started at the Barbary Coast, eating dinner at Rai’s before coming here to dance. The plan was to head to the Bellagio later for more dancing, and then end up with drinks before—whatever we ended up doing.

Flashes of light strobed through the darkness, giving me brief glimpses of Bernardo and his friends and their dates. I felt a little uneasy about their dates. I suspected that some of them were rentals.

My heart matched the heavy beat around me, and I loved the feel of the little silk shift as it slid around my thighs. It was hard to tell in the throbbing darkness, but I could have sworn that Susu was on the dance floor, too. Wishful thinking.

I stumbled a little, and Bernardo grabbed my arm.

“Hey, baby. Take it easy. You could fall down.” He had to yell the words into my ear, his lips brushing my cheek. My nipples got hard. The guy was my height and all muscle.

His arm was around my waist and we were dancing closer, but my eyes were scanning back and forth, looking for my sister.

I spotted her again a few minutes later, and the same flash of red light illuminated Rod, dancing with his eyes closed and his head thrown back. What a dork. What did she see in him?

She didn’t see me. I pulled against Bernardo and we danced closer to them.

Rod saw me. I know because he looked scared, then angry. He grabbed Susu and said something in her ear.

The next flash of light showed a startled Susu, looking around wildly. What did she think, that I was going to knock her out and toss her over my shoulder?

For a second I considered it. Bernardo and his friends could definitely help me tote her home. I could tie her up, duct tape her mouth, and put her on a plane. On the other hand, Homeland Security wouldn’t let me take a ticking bomb on board the plane, and Susu was definitely explosive.

I danced closer to her. Bernardo good-naturedly bounced along behind me.

“Susu, we need to talk,” I yelled.

She grinned and twirled, moving her hips to the beat. College Boy jerked along like a balloon on a string. Dork.

I matched my sister’s rhythm. “I talked to Carl.”

“So what?” Yelling while she jumped took all the inflection out of her voice.

“So did you get my phone message?”

“No. No phone message. What did you want?”

I glared at College Boy. “I left you a message earlier today. Rod must have deleted it.”

She laughed. “Probably did.”

“And you don’t care? If I did that you’d massacre me. You’d call me irresponsible.”

The music had moved on to another dance tune, but the beat stayed the same. Bernardo and Rod danced around us, but we were face-to-face, dancing hard and yelling to be heard over the ear-pounding house jam.

Susu appeared and disappeared with the changing lights. It was the most surreal conversation I’d ever had.

“I don’t care what Carl says, I’m not coming back until I’m ready, which may be never.” She danced away and then danced back. “And by the time he comes here, I’ll have moved on.”

“Doesn’t College Boy have to go back to school?”

Rod must have been close enough to hear, because he scowled at me.

Susu looked at him, then looked at me. “Okay. You want to talk? We’ll talk.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me off the dance floor.

Bernardo started to grab at me, too, but I waved him away. Susu didn’t do the same to Rod because he stalked out after us.

We ducked into the restroom alcove.

I pulled away from her grip, but she held on. “You’re hurting me, Susu.”

“I’m hurting you? You are in my face everywhere I go. Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“Okay, so your husband wants you back and you’re not playing. That’s cool. Your marriage is your business. But what about the kids?”

“So now you’re the ethics police? You?” She laughed.

“What? Why is that funny?” Rod was hovering. I looked at him. “Bud, what is it about you that’s so hot? I’m not getting it.”

Rod gave me a look. “Why don’t you go home? Your sister is an adult. Leave her alone.”

“She’s married.”

“Look around you. This is freakin’ Las Vegas. Most of the people around here are married. Not to each other.”

He had a point.

Susu rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. She doesn’t care if I’m married or not. She wants me to go home because she’s feeling bad and wants a little home cooking.”

“So untrue.” Damn. Did she know me, or what? “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Rod won’t hurt me. He’s a decent man. He’s been offered a job with the Defense Department.”

Rod grinned and nodded, proud of himself.

“He’s not the one I think will hurt you. You’re hurting yourself. You’re ruining your marriage, you’ve abandoned your kids.”

“I have not. They’re safe with their father.” She gave me the eyebrow. “Come on, Rod. I’ve still got some dancing left in me.”

Bernardo stuck his head in the hallway. “Is this a private party?”

Susu twirled her fingers in his short, crispy curls as she walked by. “Come on in, handsome. We were just leaving.”

“Baby, you don’t have to leave.” He pointed after her as she and Rod left. “That’s your bad-ass sister?”

“That’s my goody two shoes sister. I’m the bad-ass in the family.”

He watched Susu twitch her ass back to the dance floor. Her skirt was about six inches of green leather with a little gauze for a top. Rod strutted next to her. And she’d called me a slut?

“I think you lost that title.”

I put my arm through Bernardo’s. I wasn’t worried. I’d have it back before morning.

Chapter 5

Someone was banging on the door. I opened one eye and glared at the clock. Three A.M. This was not some wild Las Vegas–style wake-up call.

I was too exhausted to be worried. I closed my eyes and lay still, enjoying the weight of the covers, the feel of the expensive sheets against my skin. I’d enjoy this for just a little bit more and then I’d call the police.

The banging continued, now punctuated with someone yelling my name. Bernardo. He’d only left an hour ago. He probably forgot something, and I was about to give him hell for waking me up. I jumped up and flung open the door.

“What was it, your wallet?”

Chris Patterson’s eyes widened as he took in my outfit, or lack thereof. “Do I need it?”

“Isn’t it a little late to pay a visit?”

“You look like you’re ready for company.” His eyes were clamped on my breasts. I glanced down. My nipples were waving at him through my thin knit camisole. Traitors.

“I was ready for bed.”

“That’s what I said.” He started to push past me, but I blocked his way. Unfortunately, it brought us into full frontal contact. Well, the “unfortunate” part is open for debate. Big brother Chris had a hard body, long and lean, the way I like it. All thoughts of Bernardo slipped away. The bad-ass title was mine once more, in spades.

He’d put a hand on my waist to push me aside, but it was starting to slip down over my hip and toward happier places. I lifted my face, ready to let him have it. A kiss or a scream, depending on his next move.

He shoved me aside. I screamed.

He whirled to face me. “Shut up. It’s three o’clock in the morning. You’ll wake everyone up.”

“Me? You’re the one that barged in here.”

“Where’s your sister?” He looked under the king-sized bed.

“I’m not into threesomes, incest, or girls. She’s with your brother, in their own room, their own bed.” I looked at the clock radio pointedly. “Normal people sleep, you know.”

I glanced at the open door, half expecting Bernardo to reappear, wishing he really had left something.

Chris followed my gaze and smirked. “I get it. You were expecting someone else.” He started looking around, as if he was the head cop in a crime scene. “Are all these yours?” He’d opened a drawer and was sorting through my new underwear. He opened another drawer and pulled out an immense cotton panty, one of Susu’s old ones.

He held it up, brows raised in astonishment.

I snatched it out of his fingers. “Excuse me, that’s not yours.” I heard my voice rising, taking on a Fran Drescherish tone. I hate it when it does that. “Someone left that here in the room.”

I slammed the drawer shut. “You need to leave, Chris. We’ll talk tomorrow morning at breakfast and come up with a plan for getting our sibs back, but I need my beauty sleep.”

He looked me up and down. “I’m thinking you don’t need to improve a single thing.” He grinned at me. “So where’s your sister? What’s her name? Frou Frou?”

“Susu. Short for Susana. If you want to talk to her, call her. Just call the front desk and they’ll put you through to their room.” Daring him to do so, I went to the telephone on the little square nightstand to the right of my huge bed. I dialed the front desk. Chris pulled open another drawer, lifting out tops and staring at the tags that were still attached.

“Expensive taste you’ve got, Miss Anita.”

“Rod Patterson’s room, please…Yes, of course. This is Anita Suarez.” I turned and caught him staring appraisingly at my backside. I was wearing one of my new thongs, a black satin one with little black cords that tied at the side. He seemed to be fascinated by the little rhinestone bow that joined the cords in the back. I yanked down on the hem of my camisole, trying to cover it, but my breasts popped out.

“Does that say ‘Cutie’?”

“You shouldn’t read a girl’s backside. It’s not polite.”

He was staring, open-mouthed. “Not polite to look at what’s in my face?” He pulled out the giant granny panties. “Maybe you should wear these instead.”

“No way.” He’d already seen just about everything I had. I figured covering up would be false modesty, so I went to the bathroom to check out my hair and slipped into the high heels I’d abandoned by the sink.

“I’ll bet your sister’s just like you.” His voice trailed off in a moan. “My poor brother doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Your poor brother is getting a job with the Defense Department, according to my sis. He can take care of himself.”

“They scouted him,” Chris said proudly, trying, and failing, to not look at my breasts.

“That’s awesome. If he’s old enough to keep the country safe, he’s old enough to spend a weekend in Las Vegas without Big Brother coming to bail him out.”

“He’s never met anyone like her. He doesn’t know—”

I’d had it. “Doesn’t know what?” My fists were on my hips and I was starting to shake. “What fork to use at dinner? How to avoid the phone when you’re hanging with a married woman?”

“Married?” The word seemed to be a revelation to him.

“Yeah. Married. With two kids and a husband who’s probably too good for her.”

Chris grinned. “Whose side are you on?”

“The side that will keep me happy, cowboy.” And right now this big guy constituted my side. “You’re treating me like the enemy, but we’re after the same thing. To get our sibs back on track and out of Vegas.”

“True, but you aren’t being helpful. Does her husband have a gun?”

“No. Not if you don’t count the 30.06. But he uses that mainly for deer.”

Chris looked so freaked out that I laughed and told him I was kidding. Actually, Carl had a whole gun safe full of weapons. But he kept them locked up, out of the reach of kids and visitors, and it would never occur to him to use them on anyone, even an intruder. Besides, Homeland Security would stop him at the airport.

“We should work together.” He spoke suddenly, as if my thought had entered his mind through my psychic percolator.

“Sure.” I sat on the bed and stared at my fingernails, not anxious to be found out. “When did that idea come to you, exactly?”

He ignored me. “This husband of hers, what’s he to you?”

The question was so unexpected that my head shot up and I looked into his face. He was staring at me, his expression solemn and angry.

“He’s my brother-in-law, that’s what, you perv.”

“Perv? Me? I’m salt of the earth.” He sat on the bed next to me. “As a matter of fact, I didn’t really believe you had a thing with your brother-in-law. But something’s up. You and your sister are not normal.”

“I’ll say.” I hoped I sounded normal. I craved normalcy. Instead, I got Susu. Bad karma. “She’s a maniac. I’ve got my hands full trying to get her back home.”

“Why doesn’t her husband come to get her?” He lifted a hand. “No, you don’t have to answer that. He doesn’t want her back. I know I wouldn’t.”

“Back off, cabrón. Who are you to say what Carl wants and doesn’t want? It just so happens that they are very much in love. She’s having an—episode—that’s all.”

No one dissed my big sister.

“An episode? Running away from your family to Las Vegas with a college kid is an episode?” He looked and sounded incredulous. “So in your family, what’s full-fledged lunacy look like?”

I jumped up and made a fist.

“Never mind. I’m looking at it. So all that trash talk about you was just that. Trash.” He shook his head. “I knew it. No wonder you looked so crazy—you were trying to keep up with your sister.”

I was overwhelmed by a warm wave of indignation. “There’s no keeping up with her.”

“You and I are in the same boat, aren’t we? Trying to corral our runaway sibs.”

“Yeah. Maybe we should join forces.” I stared at the bathroom light, thinking of Susu’s erratic behavior. How could she think that Carl would ever forgive her for what she did?

I thought of that gun cabinet again, and felt a twinge of fear. Maybe she’d drive him over the edge. Maybe he’d come out here and shoot us both. Of course, he’d have to drive, and maybe he’d cool down before he got here.

I turned to Chris, who was staring at me as if I’d said something brilliant. “What?”

“I think you’re right. We should join forces.”

“Did I say that last, or did you?”

“You did. I’m sorry, it’s late and you were ready for bed.” His eyes trailed down my body, checking out my so-called sleep gear. “Unless you want me to stay?”

“Dream on. I’ll meet you at eight in the lobby bistro where I saw you this morning.”

Guys. They always think that if they see it, they can have it. I guess that’s the allure of strip clubs, where every ugly Joe can imagine he can go home with a dancer.

I went to sleep alone, and dreamed that Bernardo and Chris were boxing while I changed diapers and called out, “What about me?” Talk about your stress dreams.

Chapter 6

The faux cobblestone street by the lobby was full of angry old ladies. I stood in line behind ten of them, waiting to get into the Ile St. Louis. I could see a flustered black-uniformed employee just inside the iron gates, waving his hands hysterically. Bad sign.

“This place is the pits,” one of women said. “I’m going to write and complain. I paid a lot for this package. We were supposed to be seated at eight.”

“You know Lois Cathcart? Her pacemaker failed. She’s in the hospital.” The woman she was speaking to was apparently on a different channel.

“Mercy. Did anyone call her husband?” The first old lady clutched a cup to her bosom.

I thought it was a coffee refill, but then realized that the cup was full of nickels. Slot fodder.

I’d come down early to wait for Chris, afraid that I’d miss him and he’d do something crazy like try to track down Rod alone. I didn’t trust Susu. She might run again, or worse. Maybe I’d watched too many episodes of Law and Order.

“I almost missed you in this crowd.”

I turned around, relieved to find Chris behind me. “I got here early.”

He eyed the group surrounding us. “Not early enough.”

The tense restaurant employee approached the gate, and the silver-haired crowd surged forward, taking me with them. There must have been fifty of them, and they were crying out angrily.

“When are we going to eat?” an old lady said.

“I can’t stand up for this long,” another put in. “My hip is killing me.”

The man put his arms up. I think he meant to quiet them, but it looked a lot like surrender.

“Ladies, we’ve had a little setback, but I assure you, you’ll all be seated within the hour.”

“An hour? He expects this granny lynch mob to wait an hour?” I adjusted the shoulder strap of my purse. “I can take care of this. I know what to do.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Let’s grab a cup of coffee at the boulangerie and go. We don’t have time to wait for a table.”

I looked him up and down. “What’s your hurry? It’s daylight, and Susu and Rod are sleeping it off, like happy little vampires. We’ve got all day.”

My attention went back to the unhappy guy at the center of the firestorm. I worked my way to the front of the crowd, unsuccessfully trying to shield my sandaled toes from orthopedic shoes and rubber-tipped walkers.

When I reached the gate, I called out to the man. He was staring into the crowd. Behind him several uniformed women stood silently. The café was empty except for a few folks eating breakfast. The bleary ones had probably been at the machines all night. The others looked like business people.

I motioned to one of the women. “I can help. Let me in.”

She opened the gate a little and I slipped through and immediately grabbed the man by the elbow and hauled him around a corner.

“Are you insane? Why don’t you let them in? They need to sit down.”

“I can’t. There’s not enough room for them in the café. Clarice didn’t show up this morning and there’s no record of their breakfast arrangement.”

I looked around. “There isn’t room here for fifty.”

“Seventy-five,” he corrected. “They were supposed to sit in the restaurant next door, but it wasn’t finalized. It’s our fault, but without Clarice—”

“Forget Clarice. Have the servers set places next door for seventy-five. Order enough café au lait and hot tea for all of them. Bring in croissants and orange juice and forget all the hot food. You can make it up to them at lunch. Give them buffet tickets or something.”

“Croissants. I don’t think we have enough.”

“Get them from the boulangerie. They do bulk orders, right?”

“Yes, they cater. We can do that.” Relieved, he hurried off, snapping his fingers at the servers.

I grabbed one of them before she followed the others. “Open the restaurant and seat the group while you set the tables. I’m going to get them some entertainment.”

I slipped back out. I cleared my throat and put on my flight attendant voice, clear and loud enough to be heard by everyone on the floor. “Ladies, if you’ll follow me I’ll get you situated.” I raised a hand so they could see it. “Follow my hand, please.”

Looking like a geriatric version of Madeline’s crocodile line, I led them down the cobblestones to the restaurant. The server had already opened the quaint arched doorway, and the women streamed through, their anger turned to excited chattering.

I left them to it and ran down the street to the shops where I’d seen the clown. He was there, juggling soft beanbags for a bored two-year-old.

“Excuse me? Can I borrow you?”

My breath caught when I saw him up close. He was perfect. Under the clown makeup he was a good-looking guy, and his broad shoulders and muscular chest did wonders for the goofy striped T-shirt. They didn’t have clowns like this at my birthday parties.

“Pardon?” His French accent was convincing.

“I have a group of elderly ladies who are kind of irritated because their meal wasn’t waiting for them. Do you know any songs and jokes? Can you do an older crowd?”

He grinned. “Mais, oui.”

“Fabulous. Follow me.” I looked at the kid, who had picked his nose and was examining the result on his fingertip. His mother came out of the shop and reached her hand down for him. He put it, boogie and all, in hers.

I shuddered and hurried back to the restaurant, the clown at my heels.

“I am Sebastien.”

“Anita. Are you really French?” I couldn’t believe it. This place was like a huge stage set. Beautiful, but unreal. I figured everyone was from around there.

“Yes, from New Jersey.”

Of course.

I motioned him through the arch and he got right to work. Within seconds the old ladies’ attention was riveted on the handsome young performer’s agile hands and quick wit.

The servers were almost done setting the tables, and others had started serving juice. The women seemed happy now and were teasing each other as the clown made mildly suggestive jokes as he juggled.

The hapless dude from earlier came to stand next to me. “I had champagne brought in, too, as an apology for the wait.”

We stepped aside to allow a woman by with a tray of champagne flutes.

“Brilliant. I’m Anita Suarez, by the way.”

“Ed Thompson, assistant café manager.” We shook hands. “So, are you from corporate?”

“No, I’m a guest.” And unemployed, too.

His brows rose. “You must be in the business, though. I really appreciate what you did. We’re usually on the ball, but today everything fell apart.”

“It happens.” I patted his arm. “Call me if you need more help.” I repeated my name. He could call the front desk to get a message to me. I spotted Chris leaning against the fake stucco wall across the street and walked over to him.

“Sorry I abandoned you.”

“Don’t be. I’m impressed.” He pointed through the archway with a quick upturn of his chin. “You were a pro.”

“It’s a compulsion. I must have been a sheepdog in a previous life. I can’t stand to see lost herds and bewildered flocks.”

“I ordered breakfast for us.”

“I need some.” I followed him back to the Ile St. Louis, where the iron gates were now thrown open. Over coffee and buttery croissants I told him that I thought Susu and Rod were on the fourth floor.

“So we knock on all the doors?” he asked.

“I tried that. I won’t go into what I saw.”

He grinned. “I’ll bet. As I see it, we have two options. We can bribe housekeeping to tell us, or at least to keep their eyes out on who’s where. We can also hang out at the elevators and catch them coming down the hall.”

“The stairs are on the opposite side of the building.”

“That’s the problem with solution number two. The problem with solution number one is that we might have an incorruptible staff that won’t take a bribe.”

“Right. Like that’s going to happen.”

After breakfast, which I let him pay for, he went up to the fourth floor and I went to make friends in housekeeping.

The back end of the casino, like all large hotels, was a warren of utilitarian concrete areas. I found a woman uniformed like the ones I’d seen cleaning on my floor. Her hair was expertly colored and she wore well-applied makeup. I smiled and walked as if I worked here, keeping my torso turned so she couldn’t see that I wasn’t wearing a security pass. The laundry was ahead. I could hear the roar of the dryers and tumblers.

Another maid came out, prepping her cart with folded linen. This one was younger.

“Do you work upstairs?” I asked her.

I got a blank look, so I repeated the question in Spanish.

“Si.”

“Can I ask you for a favor? It’s my sister Susan’s birthday and I need to leave a present on her bed.”

She put her fist on her hips and looked at me skeptically. “How did you get back here?”

“I walked. I just want to leave a teddy bear on my sister’s pillow. Can you tell me who works the fourth floor?”

“I do, today.” She was still frowning. This wasn’t going to be easy. “You just walked back here?”

“Yes, why?”

She pointed up at the tall ceiling. I looked at what she was pointing at. A camera.

Moments later a security guard came through, looking around. He spotted me and the maid slipped away silently.

“Miss, are you a guest here?”

“Yes, sir.” I gave him my high-watt flight attendant smile.

“May I see your room key?” I rummaged in my purse and produced my key card.

He examined it carefully, then handed it back. “The housekeeping area is for employees only. I’ll escort you out.”

“I just wanted to put a teddy bear on my sister’s pillow, but I’m not sure where her room is. It’s a surprise.”

“Uh-huh.” He walked beside me, careful not to touch me. I wasn’t in trouble, yet.

“I guess you get a lot of odd requests.”

He ushered me through the door and into the faux Parisian gaiety. “You wouldn’t believe. I suggest you give your teddy bear to the front desk. They’ll take care of it.”

He said “teddy bear” as if he didn’t believe it existed. The nerve.

Sebastien the clown walked by. “Thank you, Anita. I think I’ll be working in the restaurant from now on.”

“Really? That’s great.”

The security guard looked at the clown. “You know her?”

“Yes, she set up the restaurant this morning for the old ladies. They tipped big.” He winked and went through the Employees Only door.

The guard looked confused. “You work here?”

“Not yet.” I smiled and went up to my room, hoping to catch another housekeeping cart. No luck, but there was a message from Susu. She wanted to meet with me poolside at ten. I glanced at my watch and hurried back out.

If this went well, I’d have her on the nine o’clock to Atlanta.

 

The pool was on the roof, so I took the elevator up. The doors opened onto paradise. A huge garden surrounded the enormous circular pool, which wasn’t crowded this early in the morning. I found Susu quickly. She was facedown on a massage table, having a poolside massage at the base of the Eiffel Tower.

“Here I am,” I said gaily.

The woman who was digging into Susu’s neck smiled up at me and continued her work.

“Hi, Anita.” Susu sounded blissed out. “Jealous?”

“Oh, yeah. I want to put my hands around your neck, too.”

She snorted into her crossed arms. “I had the best time last night. We should go out together more often.”

“Running into you at a dance club is not going out together.”

She lifted her head and gave me a look, rolling her eyes up toward the masseuse behind her.

“Like she hasn’t heard it all.” I smiled at the woman. “Haven’t you?”

“You wouldn’t believe.” The masseuse gave a short laugh.

“That’s exactly what a security guard just told me downstairs. You need to go home, Susu.”

“You sound like a broken record, Anita. I’m enjoying myself. I feel so alive.”

“Then why are you acting like you have a death wish?”

“Don’t be such a drama queen. Death wish. Carl wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“How about Carl? Think he’s hurt?”

This time when she lifted her head her eyes were blazing. She’d lost the sleepy, happy look.

“Carl is getting a taste of what I had. Abandoned with two kids and an ugly life.”

“Ugly? A mansion in the suburbs, a new car, and yoga lessons? Friends who live on the river? A husband who gives you anything you want? Yeah, the tragedy of it makes me weep.”

“I’m trapped, Anita. You don’t understand. You’re free to do whatever you want. You’re beautiful, and you travel, and you have lots of boyfriends. I feel ugly and used.”

“Girl, there’s nothing to be jealous of. I traveled because it was my job. It’s hard to work on a plane and not end up somewhere else. And I was a flight attendant. That’s kind of like being a waitress and bouncer at thirty-five thousand feet.”

“But you loved it.”

“I sure did. I am going to miss it every day of my life. Time to move on, though. I’m unemployed, and I don’t have Carl paying my bills.” Well, actually he was, but Susu didn’t know that.

Susu had her head back in her arms as the masseuse worked on her shoulders. “I’m tired of Rod. How do you get rid of a guy?”

Relief swirled around me like a cooling breeze. “You let him down easy. You don’t want to make a big scene, you know? So say something like, ‘I have to go home.’ It should be easy.”

“Oh, I don’t want to go home. I love this place. I just want to ditch Rod. He’s such a kid. And he thinks he knows everything.” She looked up at me and smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile “I kind of like that guy you were dancing with. Very sexy. Rod’s going back to school, and then I’m moving in with you.”

I think my mouth actually dropped open, like in a cartoon. “With me?”

Bernardo would be so disappointed. And I had my eyes on hunky Chris, too. Having my messy sister with me would seriously damage my privacy, and my nerves. The only person who would be pleased with the arrangement was Carl.

“What’s the matter, Anita? Don’t like surprises? If you want to live with me in Atlanta, the least you could do is let me stay with you here in Vegas. We could go clubbing together. It’ll be fun, like when we were in high school.”

“We never hung out in high school. You were always at chess club and I was at cheerleading.”

Her smile grew forced. “See? I have a lot of catching up to do.”

I fished my key out of my pocket and put it on the table next to her elbow. “Room 752. Put your stuff away. Don’t make a mess. And don’t tell Junior where you are. I don’t want weeping boyfriends at my door.”

I got another card from the front desk, then called Chris from my room and told him about the latest development. He called me back five minutes later.

“So she’s not going home?”

“No. I don’t know whether to be happy or depressed. At least the Rod part of it is over with.” And if Rod went home, Chris would probably leave, too. My day was getting worse by the minute.

“Want to have dinner tonight?”

“Yes. Susu can find her own fun. Is there a Thai place around here? I’m craving it.”

“I’ll find the best Thai place in the world for you. Be ready at eight. And dress up.”

I danced around the room. Mine alone for only a few more minutes. It wouldn’t be so bad. Chris had a room, too, if things headed in that direction. And Susu could find her own fun. If she didn’t want to be with Rod and she didn’t want to go home, she couldn’t expect me to be her one-woman entertaining committee. Besides, she already had called me a slut. I had nothing to lose.

She couldn’t hold me hostage about living in her house, either. I was getting into Vegas. I could stay here. I made a couple more calls, and then started to get ready for my big date.

Susu showed up while I was in the shower. I couldn’t come out of the bathroom because she had the bellman moving suitcases around. She barked orders like a drill sergeant.

When he was gone I came out, wrapped in a towel. The hotel room had been transformed. Suitcases covered every surface, including my side of the king-sized bed. Susu had left.

I got my underwear from the drawer, then went to the closet to get my red gown. All of my clothes had been pushed to the right, six inches of the closet, where the light didn’t reach. The rest of the space was taken up with Susu’s stuff. I jammed her clothes to the left to give my few things some breathing room and put my dress on.

In the bathroom, I whiled away the minutes putting my stuff away into my cosmetics bag and doing my makeup. I surveyed the clean countertop glumly. Chances were it would be awful when I got back from my date.

I repaired the ends of my hair, making sure the strands lay the way I wanted them to, then grabbed the silk wrap I’d bought with the dress and hurried to the door. I didn’t want to meet up with my sister.

The door opened before I reached it. Susu looked up, startled. She had her key card in her hand and was reaching down for another suitcase.

Her eyes widened. “Where are you headed?”

“Dinner. Don’t wait up.”

“Let me guess. That yummy boxer?”

“No, not him. But if he calls, tell him lunch is on me tomorrow to wish him luck. Tomorrow night is his big fight.”

“He can leave a message. I won’t be answering the phone.”

“Oh.” Of course. If she answered the phone, she might end up speaking to Carl. Or worse, Heidi. “See you.”

She sat on the bed and looked around at all the stuff. Just for this little trip, she’d accumulated more belongings than I’d lost in L.A. when I got evicted. Except for furniture, of course. She looked a little lost. I refused to give in to pity, but I hurried over to her and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Then before she could react, I was gone.

Chris met me downstairs and led me to a rental car. We left the strip’s bright lights and drove north.

I watched him as we drove. He really did have a deep George Clooney vibe. He caught me staring and grinned. “What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking how strange this week has been.”

“Tell me about it.” He shook his head. “One minute I’m going over distribution reports, and the next my mother is hysterical, telling me that Rod is missing and that I have to drop everything to get him back in school.”

“Is your mother the hysterical type?”

“Rock solid. I think she was seeing Vegas showgirl love child headlines.” Again that grin, easier now that the danger of love children and older women had passed.

“That sort of thing doesn’t make headlines. I’ll bet it happens here every day. And worse, too.” I smoothed the red silk of my dress over my leg.

He looked at me quickly and turned his face back to the road. “What do you mean?”

“People come here to either be themselves or be someone else. It’s a potent combination. Love and hate sometimes have the same results. I’ll bet the cops here have stories to tell.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Your mother doesn’t have to worry about Rod anymore.” I played with the hem of my skirt. “He’s going back to school.”

Chris turned to look at her. The car veered toward the center line.

“The road, babe!”

He straightened the wheel and took a deep breath. “Are you sure?”

“My sister is both heartbroken and thrilled. I’m just relieved. I thought it was just a fling, but I wasn’t totally sure.”

And I didn’t know what I would have told Carl.

When we arrived at the restaurant, I was surprised to see that it was small and unassuming. I’d expected a luxuriously decorated place. The inside was spare and contemporary, and the minute we sat down, food started arriving at our table.

“I hope you don’t mind. I preordered so we wouldn’t have to wait.”

“Impatient, aren’t you?” I sipped from a spoonful of tom kah kai and shivered.

“How is it?”

“Heavenly. I’m a big fan of coconut and spicy food, and Thai has it all.”

“Your last name is Suarez?”

“Yeah. My parents were born in Cuba. I was raised on black beans and rice and sweet fried bananas.”

“Sounds great. I want to eat that.”

“If you want it really authentic, I’ll cook for you.” I stopped. I didn’t have a kitchen. What was I offering?

“Is something wrong?”

“Just thinking of what to do next.” Find a job. Find a place to live. Get a life again.

“Finish your soup, or abandon it and try one of these.” He waved at the savory dishes that were fast piling up around us.

“What did you do, order one of each?”

He shrugged.

The owner came out to greet us. “Take care with this food,” he said. “Too hot makes your blood too hot.” He winked.

Chris grinned at me, and I didn’t know what to say. Me, who could flirt with anyone. I was at a total loss for words. That worried me more than anything had so far on this crazy trip.

I hadn’t even slept with this guy; plus, he’d seen the granny panties in my drawer and my serious bed head, and he was privy to my extreme family problems. And worst of all, he was headed home, wherever that was, as soon as his brother cleared out. I couldn’t be falling for him. No way.

Bernardo was wrong. I had regained the title of Ultimate Loca. Just not the way I’d imagined.

Chapter 7

We returned to Paris before eleven and had a drink at the bar. I was already planning to drop my purse next to the side of the bed so the condoms would be handy.

“Do you need to get up early tomorrow?” He signaled to the bartender as he spoke to me.

“No, thank goodness.”

“No sheep to herd?” His grin had become familiar. I was going to miss it. “What would you like to drink?”

“Single malt. Aberlour, if they have it.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I think I’m in love.”

He was joking, of course, and I laughed, but my heart wasn’t in it. Our time together was coming to an end. I’d make tonight count.

“You’ll need to sleep in just to rest your ears and throat,” he said. “Do you realize that we’ve been talking for three hours straight?”

“We didn’t eat very much.”

“It was good, though. I’ll have to remember that place next time.” He played with a matchbox someone had abandoned on the bar.

“Do you come to Las Vegas often?”

“Quite often. My company has interests here.”

“Would that be Patterson Tire?” The scotch warmed me, its sweet, peaty taste a great foil for the spicy dishes we’d eaten.

He looked at me. “What do you know about Patterson Tire?”

I shrugged. “Just what Rod said. As if I was supposed to know what it was. Did I say something wrong?”

Chris’s face relaxed. “It’s the family company, and we’re on the verge of going public. Rod’s outrageous behavior could cause a scandal. Stock prices and all that.”

“No wonder you freaked. Speaking of freaks, I wonder if Susu is asleep.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I’m here to get her back. The only way to find out is to go up there, and I’m not ready to go to bed.”

“You could call.”

“She won’t answer.”

Bernardo and his boxing buddies swarmed into the bar area. I waved and Bernardo waved back, although he looked long and hard at Chris. They clustered around the bar and called out orders to the bartender, who apparently knew them from before.

“Do you like boxing?”

My question took Chris off guard. “Not really. I’ve never been to a boxing match. I’ve seen—”

“That’s Bernardo Maltiades over there. He’s a Golden Gloves champ.”

“Really?” Chris turned to look at Bernardo, who was glaring back. “Why is he looking at me like that?”

Bernardo looked like a rottweiler who’d lost his favorite bone. Oops.

“We went out last night. Ignore him. He’s just being pissy.”

“Pissy doesn’t sound like a word you apply to a guy like that.” Chris stood, then I felt his hand at my waist, warm and strong. Then it moved lower. “I’d say ‘menacing’ is the correct word.”

His hand felt wonderful on me. It made me think of other places it might feel even better, but he was going to start a fight. “I think suicidal is one that might be used for you. Are you being deliberately provocative?”

“Something like that.” He looked down at me and gave me the full George Clooney effect. Dazzled, I could only stare into his eyes.

“Excuse me, take your hands off my woman.” Bernardo stood in front of us, hands politely clasped in front of him, but holding back a nervous energy that made him almost vibrate.

“Bernardo, please. We were just having a drink. And besides—” I cut my eyes over to the rest of the boxing team, which was gathering closer. I didn’t want to diss him in front of his friends. If I said that I wasn’t his woman, they’d have plenty to say to him.

Chris removed his hand from my waist. I felt a little disappointed, probably due to some leftover caveman gene floating around inside of me.

Bernardo didn’t relax. He took a step closer. “Who are you?”

“Chris Patterson. Who are you?”

“Bernardo Maltiades.”

He and Chris nodded. I was beginning to think that Chris might have a little caveman in him, too. He seemed to know the secret he-man signals.

Bernardo moved so fast I didn’t see the punch. One second Chris was standing next to me, the next he was on the floor.

He got up, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth and nodding as if he had the answer to a question he’d been pondering.

Then it was Bernardo’s turn to fly backward, into the arms of his teammates. He came back like an enraged animal, fire in his eyes.

Chris was ready for him. With the bartender shouting and women screaming, the two of them drove each other’s bodies back and forth across the little bar area. One of the guys on the Golden Gloves team grabbed me and pulled me out of the way.

“No, let me stay.”

“Lady, you already got a fat lip. You don’t want a black eye to go with it.”

I quit fighting, indignant that he should mention my lip. I thought it was looking pretty normal.

Susu was suddenly there, climbing over my rescuer. “Let go of my sister.” She was on his back, knees hiked around his waist, hitting them over the head with her purse.

He tried to scrape her off against the bar, but then two other guys intervened, grabbing her and pulling her off as if she were a human tick. Then she was fighting them, too, and they had their arms up, trying to protect their heads from her hefty handbag.

I didn’t know where to help and stayed well back. I already had stitches from the last time Susu got mad, and I wasn’t about to get in the middle of the two dogs going at it on the other side of the bar area. Either way, I’d get clobbered.

Whistles sounded around us. It was Security, and about damn time. It took two guards to subdue Susu. Bernardo and Chris had already stopped fighting and were standing, chests heaving, bent over with their hands on their knees.

Bernardo’s lip was split and Chris was bleeding from a cut on his forehead. The bartender put two napkins filled with crushed ice on the counter, and the team’s trainer sat the two men on bar stools and attended to their cuts.

The head of security was a burly guy with red hair going white at the temples. “I can’t believe you guys. A fistfight in the casino bar. Morons. You especially.” He was pointing at Bernardo. “You know better. Want to hurt your chances tomorrow night?”

Bernardo shook his head.

“That lip’s going to need stitches. You get stitches, you can’t fight.”

“No stitches,” the trainer said. “I can fix it.” He pointed over his shoulder at Chris. “Him, too. No doctors, no police report, okay?”

Chris produced a credit card. “I’ll pay for the damage to the bar.”

The bartender plucked the card from his fingers. “Two thousand should cover it. Are you a guest of the hotel?”

“Yes.”

“Then any other damages we’ll just charge to your account.” His response sounded practiced. This probably happened more often than I’d thought.

Chris nodded and took back his card. There didn’t seem to be much damage that I could tell, except for some blood spots on the carpet and overturned drinks. It was certainly not two thousand dollars’ worth.

“Hey man.” Bernardo had risen, but stopped in front of Chris. “That’s some uppercut you have. You should come spar with us.”

“I don’t box.” Chris looked at him warily.

“You don’t? Where’d you learn to punch like that?”

“Karate.”

“Aaah…” The gathered team members all nodded and looked at each other as if everything made sense. The trainer pulled two tickets out of his blazer.

“Come watch the bout tomorrow night, on us.” The unspoken thought was as a thank-you for not pressing charges against Bernardo, who threw the first blow.

“Okay, thanks.” Chris pocketed the tickets.

Susu was staring at them. “That’s it? Kiss and makeup? No cops?”

“What did you expect? It could have been much worse.” I put a hand on her to steady her as she got up. One of her shoes was missing and I found it under a table.

Two men in suits were standing next to Susu when I got up.

“Ms. Dunne?”

Susu stood very straight. She knew she was in trouble. “I’m Mrs. Dunne.”

“Follow me, please.”

The three men walked to where the boxers and Chris were. The man in the suit looked at all of them, frowning. “I understand how excited you must be at the thought of your match tomorrow, Mr. Maltiades.” He turned to Chris. “And I appreciate your offer to make reparation for the damage. But the hotel cannot tolerate criminal activity, or public fighting. I have to ask you all to please leave the hotel tonight.”

“I can’t leave.” Susu looked shocked.

Chris was stunned, too. “I’ve never been kicked out of anywhere before.”

“Aw, don’t let it get to you,” the trainer said. “Happens to us every once in a while. No matter how hard you train these hotheads to stay out of fights, someone gets mad at someone else. Usually over a woman.” He gave me a disgusted look, as if it was all my fault.

“Sorry, Anita.” Bernardo looked ashamed and defiant.

“That’s okay. I didn’t get why you fought about it, though. You and I aren’t exactly a couple.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I saw him there, and you looked so pretty and it made me mad, ’cause I thought we’d get together tonight. And then he touched you and it was like there was a fire in my head.”

“So now you have a fat lip again.” I smiled and reached for his face, but he caught my hand in his and moved it away.

“I came here to fight. Just didn’t think I’d do it in the lobby bar.”

The team manager came by. “I’m getting rooms at the Mandalay. How many should I get? We’ll only be there tonight and tomorrow night.”

Hands went up, including Susu’s. After a moment Chris raised his hand, too. I figured I’d stay with Susu, wherever that was.

She took me aside. “Anita, I need to stay here. I still haven’t talked to Rod, and I don’t want him to leave without explaining. Just tell them that you’re keeping your room, and I’ll stay there. I won’t make any problems, I promise.”

“So I have to go to the Mandalay? Why can’t we both stay here?” I didn’t want to lose sight of her, even if the yummy Chris would be staying somewhere else.

“Because I got kicked out. One of us has to leave.”

“Oh, like they can’t tell us apart.” I stared at her brilliant red hair.

She put a hand up to touch it. “I’ll take care of this tonight. We look almost like twins when my hair’s brown.” She frowned at my head. “You need to get those highlights touched up.”

No kidding. “Serves you right if you end up getting gold highlights to keep your room. And you’d better not call any attention to yourself.” It would ruin my future plans if she trashed my room at Paris. I left the group and walked to the front desk to make arrangements. The head of security was standing behind the counter and came over to speak to me.

“Ms. Suarez, I’m sorry that I included you with the others. I know you weren’t involved. You don’t have to leave.”

Thank goodness. I hadn’t been sure about the verdict. I gave him my highest wattage smile. “I was just going to change my checkout date. I may be staying a few more days.”

He nodded. “Good to hear. I hope you understand—”

I cut him off. “No need to explain. I totally agree with your decision.”

The clerk was staring at me. Or rather, at my dress. I was still in my red Nicole Miller gown.

Do I know how to dress for an occasion, or what?

Chapter 8

The next night I was in jeans again and feeling underdressed at the Mandalay Convention Center for Bernardo’s fight. Chris, the entire Golden Gloves entourage, and I had checked into Mandalay Bay with no problems.

It would have made more sense for them to have stayed there anyway, since it was where they’d have their bouts, but Bernardo said that they had moved to Paris to avoid confrontations with other boxing teams.

Susu was back in my old room in Paris, laying low. She called to leave me a “mission accomplished” message regarding her hair color. In dark glasses and a subdued attitude, she would be discreet.

I’d never seen boxing live before. From the moment it started I was on the edge of my seat. Maybe it’s because I’d just seen a bare-knuckles fight up close and personal. Maybe it was the aftermath of the adrenaline rush I’d felt after my fight with Susu in Atlanta, but as each boxer took his turn in the ring, I felt a personal stake in his fight.

My heart was racing as Bernardo knocked out his opponent. The defeated boxer lay flat on the mat, head lolling, and the crowd cheered. Barbaric. And exciting.

Chris turned to me. “This is what the ancient Romans must have felt like. It explains football, too. Someone should write a paper on why violence is such a turn-on.”

Our eyes meet. I was feeling just as hot. He grabbed my hand and we stood and hurried out of the arena. We went down a staircase, avoiding the cameras that were everywhere, and went into a semidark hallway lined with storage rooms marked CHAIRS and TABLES and offices with big glass windows.

Chris tried doors until one swung open. We quickly entered and he closed the door behind us. We didn’t turn on any lights.

He kissed me, and I pushed against him. I couldn’t get close enough to him. He shoved me back, holding my hips to steady me, until my backside hit a low edge. A desk. He tugged at my top and I fumbled with his belt, working fast, then his pants were open and he was in my hand, hot and heavy. Oh, yeah.

I thought I’d die if I didn’t get him in me. He tugged my jeans off and lifted me onto the desk, pushing aside binders.

It was fast and glorious and sweaty and finished fabulously. Luckily I still had the condoms in my purse that I’d meant to use the night before, or we would have been in trouble. I was so not going to stop.

Afterward I thought I’d feel awkward, but Chris held me close, cradling me against his chest. Perfect. He was perfect and he was going home and I’d never see him again.

I sighed.

“Regrets?” His voice was low and rough.

“No. Wild monkey sex on strangers’ desks has never been in my repertoire, but you make me crazy. Actually, I’m kind of hoping for a rematch.”

He laughed, and I heard it deep in his chest. I wanted to explore this feeling further.

“We’ve been kicked out of one facility. Let’s not have to hunt for another hotel room tonight. I promise you, the next time we’ll have clean sheets and a hot shower in the morning.”

He promised. I loved the sound of that.

As we made our way back upstairs, walking a little unsteadily and holding onto each other’s belt loops, my cell phone rang. Expecting Susu, I was surprised to hear Heidi’s hysterical voice.

“Aunt Anita, Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce. Daddy said so. Now he’s gone and Ransom pooped on the dining room floor.” Her voice had risen in pitch with each word. She sounded like a frightened mosquito.

“Who’s Ransom?”

“The dog. There’s nobody to clean it up.”

“Who’s taking care of you?” I glanced at Chris, who was frowning. I mouthed my niece. He nodded.

“Grandma. But she had a martini and she’s snoring.”

I glanced at my watch. It was close to midnight in Atlanta. “Do you know where your daddy is?”

“He’s going to Las Vegas. He said he was bringing her ass home. He was real mad.”

“I’ll bet. Well, good news, pumpkin. Mommy’s ready to go home. Go to bed, and in the morning Grandma will clean the poop and Daddy will bring Mommy home.”

“Promise?” She sounded wistful. Poor kid.

“I promise.”

“If they get a divorce can I come live with you?”

“You sure can. But they aren’t getting a divorce. You’ll see.” She hung up and I turned to Chris. “I have to go back to Paris. Carl’s on his way.”

“I’ll drive you, but I can’t go in.”

“Just drop me off and go to the Bellagio across the street. Pick a bar and call my cell phone and tell me where you’ll be. I’ll get Susu.”

“Okay.” We stopped and he kissed me long and hard again, then gently. My lips rubbed across his cheek, tasting him, soaking in his scent. I’d never felt this way about a man before. It was dizzying. Frightening.

He dropped me off at a side door. I came in through the casino and went straight up to my floor. I didn’t have a key, since Susu had relinquished hers to security when she had supposedly left. I’d given her mine. It was ironic, since her husband was paying for the room.

She didn’t answer my knock. I banged harder, keeping an eye on the security camera at the end of the hall. The last thing I wanted to do was call attention to myself.

I thought I heard muffled weeping come from inside. “Susu? Is that you? Open up, it’s Anita.” No answer, but there was definitely a woman crying inside.

I walked around the halls until I found a housekeeping cart at the junction of two halls. I thought it was abandoned until I heard a Spanish radio station coming from an open room. I stuck my head in the door. “Hello?”

The room was disgusting. Beer bottles littered the floor and the beds had both been stripped of covers. Used condoms were draped over the lamp shades. People were pigs. I added hotel housekeeping to my mental Not in this Life careers list.

The housekeeper came out of the bathroom wearing thick yellow rubber gloves and smelling of bleach fumes. “Si?”

“Have you done all the rooms on this floor?” I asked her in Spanish.

“No, just the three corridors on this side. I only do the ones where people check out. They’re empty, you see?” She waved around the room, her lip lifted in disgust. Her uniform had Carina embroidered in flowing script over her left breast.

“So you haven’t done 725?”

“No, not if someone is still there.” She looked me over. “Why, señorita?”

“My sister’s in there. She’s very upset, and she won’t answer the phone. Can you let me in?” I hoped I looked like a caring sister and not like a hit man or an international jewel thief.

She frowned. “No, but I’ll come with you.” I hustled her down the hall toward the room. “Normally, when there is a problem like this, señora, we call Security.”

“Please, no Security.”

Carina looked at her grimly. “It’s her husband, verdad? I hate that.”

She listened at the door, nodded to me, and opened the door. The room was dark.

“Susu?”

Her voice was clogged with tears. “Go away.”

I put my hand on Carina’s shoulder. “I’ll take it from here. She’ll be okay.”

“Miss, you know this girl?” Carina waited stolidly by the door, not letting me in.

“She’s my sister.” Susu started to weep again.

Carina looked doubtful, but she left.

“Susu, I’m going to turn a light on.” I felt for the bathroom light and clicked it on.

Susu was sitting in bed, dressed, the covers up over her knees and a box of tissues next to her. More of them were on the floor, crumpled. Carina would have work to do there tomorrow.

“Rod’s gone.” Susu blew her nose again. “We had an awful fight.” She sobbed. “But I’m okay. I’m just feeling stupid, that’s all.”

“Where is he?”

“Gone back to Princeton.”

Chris would be relieved to hear that. “Carl’s on his way. Heidi called me.”

She stopped crying and stared at me. “Oh my God.”

“I thought you wanted to go home.”

“I do. When’s he going to be here?” She turned the clock radio around and stared at the time.

“I’m not sure.”

She jumped out of bed and ran to the closet. “We don’t have a moment to lose. Let’s go have fun. Come on.”

She started to rummage through the clothes. She pulled out a tiny black leather skirt and a fishnet top and threw them at me. “Get dressed. You can’t go out in jeans. Let’s go dance at Ra.”

Why not? I stripped and pulled on her clothes. Serious hooch outfit. “So we go to Ra, dance a little, and then you’ll be ready to go home, right?”

“Right. Here, use these.” She handed me a pair of tall wedge sandals. Wearing the same size clothes and shoes as her was a mixed blessing.

While she got ready, I called Chris. “We’re going dancing at Ra.”

“Hold on. Did you say dancing? I thought you were going to tell her about her husband.”

“I did. She wants to go dancing. Can you meet us there?”

He sighed. “You Suarez girls will be the death of me.”

Funny how a lot of people thought the exact same thing.

In the hallway, Carina was pushing her squeaky-wheeled cart toward the elevators. She stopped when she saw us. “You’re twins. I didn’t know.”

Susu and I looked at each other and laughed. With her brown hair and—yes, gold highlights—we did look like twins. We descended to the lobby and then crossed it, walking quickly. We were trying not to attract attention, but the way we were dressed, that was just about impossible. Heads turned as we made our way to the street, and outside, a cab screeched to a halt the second I raised my hand.

Ra was rocking. We disappeared into the mobbed dance floor, sucked into the vortex of pumping, writhing bodies. Chris never showed, but I figured he was on the outskirts watching. Maybe he wasn’t the dancing type.

I was about ready to take a water break when I got yanked aside from my partner, a businessman there for a payroll convention.

“Hey, stop it.” I turned to the guy who had pulled me away. It was Chris. “Hi. Where were you?”

“I’ve been at every bar and dance club on the strip. The folks at Paris said you left in party clothes, talking about dancing.”

“Wow.” I couldn’t imagine going to every single bar. “I told you we’d be at Ra.”

“I didn’t know it was a dance club inside the casino. I drove up and down the strip looking for it. Then I drove past the pyramid and it hit me.” He looked pissed off and was yelling to be heard, so I smiled apologetically at Mr. Business and pushed Chris toward the restrooms.

Susu saw us and hurried to catch up. Chris’s eyes bugged out when he saw us together. The Fabulous Hoochie Twins.

Chris glanced at Susu and then focused back on me. “I thought you were the sensible one.”

Susu laughed. “Her? Sensible? She’s the one who had the affair with the married lawyer when she was underage.” She gave me a raise-browed look with a broad smile.

Chris looked at me, aghast.

“It wasn’t as bad as it sounds.” I’d heard all of these fun accusations before. Susu paraded them every time she felt threatened by me.

She launched another salvo. “She’s the one who got kidnapped by a warlord in Morocco and had to be rescued by the U.S Army.”

“Kidnapped?” He stared at me.

“What? I didn’t need to be rescued. Hassan was going to take me back.” He’d been so cute about it, too, wanting to add me to his harem. Turned out there was no harem, and his dad was a college professor, not a sheik, but he was still cute.

“Oh yeah? What about this need to hang around with boxers?”

I’d had enough. “What are you saying, Susu? Spit it out. Rod told me what you said I was.”

At the mention of Rod her bravado slipped a little. “Slut,” she hissed. She tugged up the strap of her corselet, which had slipped off her shoulder. Definitely a case of pots and kettles calling each other names.

“Am I a slut because I know what I want and go after it?” I was in her face now. We were going to end it once and for all.

“I don’t fuck everyone I meet, like you do.” Her eyes were blazing.

“I don’t, either.” Not anymore. My eyes shot to Chris. I wanted him to have a good opinion of me. That was a first. “And I want you to get over this, Susu. You did what you wanted, I did what I wanted to do. And now we’re different. You’re not the person you were at twenty-one, are you? Well, neither am I.”

“Anita, that was three years ago. You haven’t changed that much.” She tossed her hair and put her arms on her hips. Even though she was trying for defiant, she came across as wounded.

I put my arm around Susu. “We Suarez girls are maniacs.”

Susu looked quickly at me. “Yeah?”

I hugged her. “Yeah.”

“I could have told you that.” Chris looked at me, and he didn’t look angry. He looked hot. “Come on ladies, back to Mandalay.”

“You need to come, too, Susu. I don’t want to get into any trouble with the Paris casino folks.” I didn’t want to sink my chance of the job I’d been inquiring about.

“Okay.” Susu’s voice was soft. “Can we go back and get my stuff? I didn’t unpack anything, so we just need a bellman to stack it on a cart.”

I glanced at Chris, who nodded. “Let’s do it now,” I said. “There’s someone I need to see while we’re at it.”

“A sheik, a boxer, or an attorney?” Chris grinned at me.

“Ha ha. The head of catering, actually.”

Chris and Susu exchanged glances, apparently baffled by my reply.

At Paris no one seemed to notice when Chris and Susu went upstairs. I headed toward the employee-only area in the back.

The head of security was still there.

“You work twenty-four hours, or are you a clone?”

He looked up from his desk and smiled at me. “I could say the same to you, only I’ve met your scary clone.”

“I got your message earlier and meant to call, but figured I’d see if you were really the workaholic you appeared to be.”

“And I am, to my wife’s sorrow. I was going to call you again in the morning about that package you dropped off.”

“Yes.” I held my breath, hoping I hadn’t shot down another opportunity, although really, it would have been Susu’s fault.

“I’ve made some inquiries since our call. Your coworkers speak highly of you, and your former employer does, too.”

“You’ve talked to all of those people since yesterday?”

He smiled thinly. “Security has always been an important part of our corporate culture.”

I remembered the cameras in housekeeping and nodded. It certainly made sense that a casino would be concerned about security.

“I think we can agree to your terms. We need to speak again. The head of the catering staff would like to join us. Say, tomorrow at ten?”

“Sounds great.” I shook hands with him and he winked at me. The fix was in. Just like that, I had a job.

We headed back to Mandalay and booked a room for Susu. Chris headed back to his room while we did the paperwork. I think he’d had his fill of the Suarez sisters.

I trailed Susu to her room, ostensibly to help her, but actually to make sure her ass wasn’t getting me into any more trouble.

She opened the door and then turned, looking like a sleepy raccoon. “You don’t need to come in. I’m going to hit the mini-bar, get drunk, and then go to bed. Alone. And in the morning, I’m going to call Carl and grovel. I am going to beg him to take me back.” She hugged me. “I’m sorry, honey. I guess I did get to be just like you, and it messed up everything.”

“You needed to stretch a little. And you did, didn’t you?” I wiped her eyes with a tissue, getting most of the smeared makeup off. Now she just looked a little goth.

She sniffed. “Yeah. I did. It’s not easy to be you, chica.”

“It’s not easy to be you, either.” I hugged her, and we stayed in each other’s arms for a little while, savoring the warmth that reminded each other so much of our mom. “I promise I’ll stand on my own two feet, okay?”

She laughed, tears in her eyes. “You’d better.”

“Need help getting to bed?”

“Nope. I’m not drunk yet.” She walked off, slender and strong, just like Mom.

 

At two A.M. our hotel room door at the Mandalay crashed open.

The delicious stroking on my skin stopped. Chris’s head popped out of the sheets. He looked adorable with his hair standing up in untamed spikes and swirls. “Carl, I presume?”

“Yes, it is,” I said. “Carl Dunne, this is Chris Patterson.”

Chris looked at Carl appraisingly. “Beefy and buttoned-up. You looking for Susu, I suppose?”

“Where is she?” Carl’s nostrils were wide and he was snorting like a bull. It would have been hilarious, except he looked like the preview minutes on Law and Order, where they set up the crime that gets solved later.

I started to pull the sheet around me to get up. Chris grabbed it and tugged it up around my neck. I couldn’t move.

“What are you doing? Let go of me. I have to help Susu.”

“She can help herself. She expects you to do the same, doesn’t she?”

“Anita, is this man hurting you?”

“No, Carl, I’m fine. Chris, you meathead. Let go of me.”

“Nope.” He looked at Carl appraisingly. “Big guy, your wife is in the room down the hall. Twelve thirty. She’s sleeping alone. Got it?”

Carl stared at him for a second. “I get it.” He started to back out, then stopped. “Thanks.”

“Wait.” I glared at Chris, who had just given up my sister. “What are you going to do, Carl?”

“I’m getting Susu back. I’m ready to grovel.”

“Great. That’s two of you. There’s a copy of her key card in my jeans pocket, on the floor.”

I heard him rummage. “Got it.” The anger seemed to have drained out of him, leaving him sad. Not as sad as he’d be when he got his credit card bill next month. But I had a job now. I’d pay him back. Maybe.

Guilt made me want to be nice to him. “Carl? She really loves you.”

Our eyes met over Chris’s muscular sun-browned arm. Carl’s gaze was steady, no longer lost. “Thanks, Anita. For everything. I’ll see you back home.”

“I’m not going back, Carl. I got a job at the casino.”

“Yeah?” He smiled. “That’s great.”

“Yeah?” That was Chris, eyebrows raised.

After the door closed, Chris kissed my temple gently. “That was sweet. You got all teary because of your good deed.”

I looked up at him. “I did, didn’t I? See, I’m not such a hard case after all.”

He settled me into his arms again. “So you’re working at the casino?”

“Well, the restaurant. They need an events coordinator, and I worked up a proposal and left it with the restaurant services manager after the granny breakfast fiasco, and they offered me a job.”

“You work fast.”

“At some things. Some jobs, you just have to take more time. Like this.” I reached down between our bodies and showed him. “And you were about to do this.”

His smile got a little dazed. “Yeah, that.”

I forgot about my sister after that. Susu would solve her own problems.

Much later I lay awake caressing Chris’s short hair and thinking about my future. Susu and Carl would probably patch things up, and I had a job, but would I ever see Chris again?

As if he were psychic, he asked, “Can I come visit you here?” He was looking up at me.

“You bet. Slots are open 24/7. I guess I’d better hunt for an apartment.”

“Then I can’t use my great good-bye line for you.” He nuzzled me, then rose up on his elbow.

“You thought of a good-bye line? And they call me a drama queen.”

“Watch who you call queen.”

I tickled his ribs. “Okay, so give. What’s your great line?”

He grabbed my hands to stop me and put on a Humphrey Bogart voice. “We’ll always have Paris.”

“That’s it? We’ll always have Paris? How lame.” I wrestled free and tickled him again.

He laughed and fended me off. “How about, ‘Here’s lookin’ at you, baby’?”

“No, no. The line goes, ‘Here’s lookin’ at you.’”

He pulled me close and kissed me, one of those long, deep kisses that make me dizzy. I was breathless when he finally pulled away and looked deep into my eyes.

“Here’s lookin’ at you…” His voice was deep and full of promise.

Who needed a line from an old movie? We had Paris right now.