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“Pops, there’s no way you’re convincing me you brought those for the USO lounge.”
Ryan McBride nodded his head in the direction of the two dozen roses, wrapped in cellophane and tissue and tied with an oversized crimson-red bow.
Ryan caught a glance at Pops, who looked like he won the Miss America pageant. That explanation seemed just as ridiculous as this last-minute trip to the florist and then the airport—since Ryan knew neither had anything to do with America’s heroes. That much was as clear as the plastic sheet surrounding the bouquet.
Bill McBride climbed in the car and sat down, careful not to crush the flowers as he buckled his seatbelt. “I support our troops, Ryan.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t, Pops. I know you do. You’ve been one of them and had their back ever since.” Ryan let his eyes leave the road long enough to give his grandfather a stern stare. “But usually when I take you to the airport to welcome home our troops, you let a ‘thank you’ and a handshake suffice. And you usually wear your American Legion cap. Not a tie. Pops, don’t lie to me. What’s going on here?”
Bill stared ahead stoically, seemingly considering his words before he spoke as they made their way down Interstate 15 to McCarron International Airport.
Ryan decided he would just let Pops have the next word. Ryan read the bluffs of others for a living, a very lucrative living.
And he’d just called Pops’s bluff. He had Pops, and the old man knew it.
“Well,” Pops dragged out the syllable, still unwilling to commit to revealing whatever he had up his starched long sleeve.
“Mmm-hmm?”
“You see, I’m meeting someone there.” Then he added hastily, “Not a service member, though.”
“I figured that one out already, Pops. Keep going.” Ryan turned into the main entrance to the airport. “What airline, Pops?”
“American. She’s coming from Texas.” Pops pointed at the sign just ahead, which directed them to the terminal where American Airlines landed. “Ok, so, keep going. What’s her name?”
Pops bent his head low, smelling the flowers, almost as though he was enjoying the perfume worn by his mystery woman.
Ryan snuck another glance at Pops. When had he had time to meet a woman? And especially one from Texas? When Bill had moved to the retirement community a year ago, Ryan half expected him to find companionship over the Friday night bingo cards.
But Texas?
Something wasn’t adding up.
Was it possible that Pops wasn’t playing with a full deck anymore?
And while Ryan didn’t understand the whole situation right now, he did understand odds. And the odds of his ninety-two-year-old grandfather meeting a woman from halfway across the country were virtually non-existent.
“Gina Mae,” Pops lowered his voice and ran the syllables together into a mumble. “Her name is Gina Mae Lee. Well, Gina Fleming now. But back when I knew her, she was Gina Mae Lee. And she was something.”
A career as a card shark had made Ryan mostly immune to displays of emotion. Emotion got you burned. Emotion opened the door to letting someone take advantage of you.
Emotion was for losers.
“Ok, Pops. Gina Mae Something from Texas is coming to visit. And you got her flowers.” Ryan swung into a parking space and put his sports car in park. “Why?”
Pops turned his head toward the window and stared as though he was seeing another time and another place.
“Because she’s getting ready to become Mrs. Bill McBride, and every gal deserves something special on her wedding day. Especially my gal.”
“Your gal, Pops?” Ryan finally let emotion sneak out in his words. “This is a little ridiculous, don’t you think? First, you tell me we’re going to greet the troops. Then you come out carrying an entire florist’s shop, and now you’re marrying some girl with a bunch of names at the airport?”
Ryan couldn’t figure out why Pops was trying to deceive him. Their relationship had been built on trust and honesty, for as long as Ryan could remember.
Bill cut off Ryan’s questions. “She’s not some girl with a bunch of names. She was my first love. And she’ll be my last. You’ve got a cynic’s heart. You’ll never understand.”
Bill placed a defiant hand on the door latch and gave it a strong pull that was more Chuck Norris than Chuck E. Cheese.
“Won’t understand? First love, last love, huh? Where does Memaw fit in? Did you forget about the woman you were married to?”
Pops stopped his exit from the car and turned to look right at Ryan. His fluffy white eyebrows lowered like fanciful caterpillars over his ice-blue eyes. “She’s been gone since you were four, Ryan. And that’s a long time to live with nothing but memories when all you want is a hand to hold. I doubt I have five more years on this earth, youngster. I’m going to make my time count. And that’s exactly what she told me to do, for your information.”
He put one leg deliberately out of the car, then stood carefully, cradling the riot of red blooms like a newborn baby. “And whether you stay or leave me to call a taxi to take me and my bride back to town, you’ll never speak so disrespectfully to me again, young man. Do you hear?”
Ryan took in a slow breath. If he didn’t back off, Pops was going to take a cab to a little white chapel.
“I hear you, Pops. I don’t get any of this. But I hear you.”
“Good. Then let’s get going. Gina Mae’s never been to Las Vegas. I don’t want to make her wait in a crowded airport by herself.”
Ryan watched Pops stand a little taller as he walked to the door. He had moved Pops out here to the desert southwest to try and improve his health and quality of life. Sadly, it seemed like nothing had made much of a difference...until this moment.
Ryan followed his grandfather’s eager steps through the airport. He scooted around women toting pink rhinestone doggy carriers. He slid past groups of men slapping each other on the back and gearing up for a bachelor party. He ducked out of the way of tall blondes with fake tans and faker female features, the Playboy-cloned girls looking to make it big at some club, some hotel, some limelight.
Everything Ryan saw as they walked made sense to him. They were all part of the biggest stereotypes about Vegas.
The only thing head-scratcher was everything Pops had just told Ryan. He couldn’t make sense of how this all happened and Ryan never suspected a thing. Wasn’t he supposed to watch for “tells”—those little behaviors that signaled something to come?
Maybe he was losing his touch.
But he would make absolutely sure he wasn’t going to lose Pops.
Ryan McBride didn’t know a thing about Gina Mae What’s-Her-Name. But he knew he’d protect his grandfather from lions, tigers, bears...and gold diggers.
Which was about the only explanation Ryan could come up with for flying halfway across the country and marrying someone you hadn’t seen in decades. Every other explanation defied logic. And logic and odds ruled Ryan’s life. He always went where the logic led. Let others be led by gut feelings. Ryan McBride hadn’t gotten to the top of one of the highest-stakes games in the world by trusting his feelings.
Right now, he didn’t trust Pops’ feelings, either.
“There she is, son!” Pops raised his arms and waved the flowers furiously over his head. “Gina Mae!”
Ryan saw a diminutive tuft of white hair coming their way. The little walking cotton ball didn’t look like much of a threat. But Ryan had seen enough bluffs at the tables to know things weren’t always what they seemed.
If what happened in Vegas was supposed to stay in Vegas, then Lisa Fleming wasn’t happening.
Because she sure as Cirque du Soleil wasn’t staying here.
And neither was Nana. Nana just didn’t know it yet.
But since the moment Lisa had come home from her last day of teaching high school before Spring Break and Nana had handed her a plane ticket to Las Vegas, then blurted out a hare-brained scheme that she’d reconnected with her first childhood love on social media, Lisa had felt like she had joined a movie with the National Lampoon’s squad about the worst vacation ever.
But, no. That wasn’t enough. As soon as the flight attendant served Nana a tiny glass of overpriced wine, Nana had to go and drop the Nana bomb.
She wasn’t just going on vacation to see the fountains at the Bellagio or to waste Lisa’s inheritance one shiny coin at a time in a nickel slot machine.
Nope, Nana announced she was getting married in a Vegas chapel to her early-days-of-World-War-II sweetheart.
At that moment, Lisa had flagged down the flight attendant and ordered a tiny bottle of whatever the airline was serving. And now, with every step she took through the airport, she wished she’d ordered one for the road. Or the terminal. Or the baggage claim. Or whatever.
Nana was over ninety years old. Lisa couldn’t keep her from going on a trip. But somewhere over New Mexico, empowered by that teeny-tiny adult beverage, Lisa decided she could keep Nana from making the biggest mistake of her life.
It was completely possible for Nana to go to Vegas and catch up with an old friend.
She just didn’t have to marry him, for Pete’s sake.
And if that meant giving up a nice, relaxing Spring Break to ensure that Nana, the woman who protected Lisa her whole life, stayed away from little white Vegas wedding chapels—then so be it.
Once safely past small airport lounges filled with cigarette smoke and dreams of jackpots, Nana gained speed. Lisa found herself trying to keep up with Nana’s imitation of the Senior Olympics track squad. Then, once she’d cleared baggage claim, Nana sprinted toward a gentleman in a perfectly starched dress shirt and fell straight into his arms as though she had tripped and landed there.
As they stayed locked in a warm embrace, Lisa began to feel as though she were intruding. They were surrounded by strangers and serenaded by the sounds of luggage carousels, but still Lisa like an outsider at this moment that had been more than six decades in the making.
She’d never had a relationship that had been more than six months in the making.
Lisa looked over Nana’s shoulder and above the white-haired man’s softly bent head.
She couldn’t miss the sight of midnight blue eyes, black hair, and a chiseled chin locked in a light dusting of yesterday’s beard. Of all the people in this busy airport, the man behind the couple-of-the-moment had caught her attention.
The way he was staring at Nana and her friend made Lisa uncomfortable, like when she watched scary movies and knew something was about to happen just by the music.
“Are you waiting on something?” Lisa could hear the shortness in her own voice come out like the lead housewife on a catty reality show. “You can just get your suitcase and move on, you know.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Can’t.”
“Didn’t your mother teach you staring was rude?”
“Nope.”
Ugh. Did the man know how to put two syllables together? Lisa’s inner diva had reached a fast, bubbly boil. There was nothing she could do to prevent what was about to happen.
“Well, she should have. I can correct that right now, if you’d like.”
That was her Grade-A teacher voice. The beast had been unleashed. No going back now. Mr. Annoying needed to get his suitcase and head for the exit.
“Not really.”
Well, at least he used more than one syllable. The Grade-A teacher in her appreciated that.
Her eyes unlocked from his and swept downward.
Whoa, diva... Now Lisa’s inner teacher was speaking directly to her, reminding her that this was no time to appreciate any of his finer qualities. Not his syllables...or anything else.
He might have been nice to look at, but his manners didn’t match his looks. “There are plenty of taxis outside just waiting to take you wherever you need to go. This is a private moment.”
Before Mr. Midnight Eyes could reply, the older gentleman pulled two steps back out of the embrace with Nana.
“He can’t go get a taxi. He is the taxi,” Bill said. “Gina Mae, this is my grandson, Ryan McBride.”
Ryan tilted his head toward the reunited couple, in a wordless form of greeting.
Cocky jerk. He could have just answered her original question. She’d just used her teacher voice for nothing.
“Well isn’t that fun?” A smile came over Nana’s face and she gestured back at Lisa. “Bill, this is my great-granddaughter, Lisa Marie.”
Ugh. Every time Nana said that, Lisa felt like she was about to be painted on velvet and hung up at Graceland.
Lisa held her palm up and tried to deflect. “Lisa. Lisa will do.”
The world was only big enough for one Lisa Marie in a town with an Elvis impersonator in every white chapel on every corner.
Bill McBride walked over to Lisa and picked up her hand. He lifted it and gave a short peck just over the crest of the knuckles. “Pleased to meet you, my dear. Thank you for bringing my Gina Mae safely to me.”
The sincerity with which Bill spoke touched Lisa’s heart and made her feel a little guilty for having zero intention of abandoning her plan to circumvent this wedding somehow and get back to this airport as quickly as possible in order to go home.
But since her Nana had always been a big believer in the adage that said you get more flies with honey than vinegar, she was willing to be sweet for now. Goodness knows Nana had drilled the concept into Lisa’s head over the years.
She packed up the teacher voice.
“If I’d known we were meeting a true gentleman like you, we’d have been here sooner,” Lisa said with a smile. Honestly, the groom-to-be held an irresistible charm, like a chivalrous teddy bear.
Nice to know there were men like that in the world. Too bad they were all ninety years old.
Lisa could feel the stare of Bill’s grandson from his staked-out spot just a few feet away. Sooo. The apple fell pretty far from Bill McBride’s gallant tree.
Too bad. Those eyes would have been a perfect complement for chivalry. Wasn’t blue the color of something knightly? Lisa couldn’t remember the old stories. She left those things to her friends in the English department.
But hey, it wasn’t like Lisa had time to flirt anyway.
She needed to save Nana from herself, her crazy plans, her long-suspected memory issues, and one well-mannered teddy bear who was probably in the same synapse-induced twilight that Nana was.
“Shall we go? Ryan, can you grab my sweetheart’s bags? Her hands are full.” Bill smiled first at Gina Mae and then at the oversized puff of flowers she could barely fully grasp with her arthritic fingers.
“Sure, Pops.” Ryan reached behind his grandfather and plucked the handle of Nana’s rolling suitcase. “Got it.”
Mr. Blue Eyes was a man of few words. Hopefully, his apparent lack of interest meant he wouldn’t be in her way the next few days as she brought some balance back to Nana’s life.
“You need any help?” Ryan McBride’s voice reminded her of caramel. Low, slow, and with just a hint of burnished sweetness. Now that he’d uttered several syllables together, his voice surprised Lisa. After years in the world of the theater, listening for tone and inflection in the spoken word came as second nature. It was just an analysis she made without even really thinking about it.
His candied voice made Lisa’s stomach growl a little as it made her blood pressure rise a few notches with the awareness of it.
Lisa shook her head. “I’ve got it.” At least she could confidently say she had one thing under control here.
Nana and Bill took the lead, walking toward the doors that led to the parking lot with the lightness of step most commonly seen in teenagers. Lisa couldn’t believe it. Nana had moved in with her two years ago when it became clear that the day-to-day tasks of keeping a house cleaned and maintained, and dinner cooked, and laundry washed were just taking a physical toll on her. But now, here in the middle of Las Vegas, holding hands with her long-lost first love, it seemed like the years had just disappeared—from both the calendar and her arthritic knees.
The transformation amazed Lisa, and she tried to keep herself from looking obviously drop-jawed as she followed the newly reunited couple.
Standing directly behind Ryan McBride forced Lisa to keep her potentially drop-jawed state in check, too.
He wore a plain black T-shirt and a pair of jeans that seemed dyed to match the black-blue of his eyes. The shirt and the jeans both seemed to fit him like a casual second skin, careless yet confident at the same time.
Snap out of it, Lisa Marie. The only thing she needed to be confident of right now was making sure that her Nana escaped Vegas without making decisions she clearly didn’t think all the way through. Nana needed help, and Lisa couldn’t risk a wrong move by being distracted.
Her toe collided with six inches of brightly-painted concrete that divided two handicapped parking spots. Lisa flailed her left arm a bit, trying to regain balance. Her suitcase landed with a thud as she jerked it over the offending curb.
Quickly, she lifted her chin up to see if anyone noticed.
Ryan raised an eyebrow.
Lisa took a deep breath in through her nose, resisting the challenge. Yep, she had everything under control.
Or not.
But she was darned sure gonna fake it ‘til she made it. No one in Las Vegas would notice a little more fake, would they?
When they all got to the car, Ryan realized immediately he had a big problem on his hands. His fancy European sports car really wasn’t made to chauffeur four grown adults, two suitcases, two carry-on bags, two purses, and one oversized bouquet of roses.
He ran a hand through his hair in a swipe of frustration. He loved Pops, but everything about today had been crazy. If Pops had just been honest with him, maybe they could have made plans for transportation with an adequate number of seats and square feet of trunk space. If Pops had come clean from the start, maybe they wouldn’t have been in this predicament at all. Because Ryan would have tried every negotiation skill at his disposal to talk Pops out of this craziness.
Which Pops obviously knew, the crafty old man.
And so, that brought Ryan to standing outside a black convertible sports car in a parking garage, wondering how everything—including the accompanying cast of characters—was going to wedge in there.
“Pops? Where are we going? I’m not taking these ladies back to your retirement home, am I?”
“Well, of course not, Ryan. It’s not a hotel. I made Gina Mae a reservation at your place. In the honeymoon suite.” Pops’ eyes lit up with an arctic twinkle.
“At my place? You mean the Renaissance Grand?” The honeymoon suite at the newest and most talked about hotel on the Vegas strip did not come cheap.
Pops nodded as he opened the door. “Yes, sir. I put my girl there because I thought you’d be able to help her if she needed anything. She wasn’t sure her great-granddaughter would come, but since she’s here now, maybe you can help me with getting her a room too.”
“Wait. Don’t get in the car yet. I’m not sure how everything’s going to fit, Pops.” He popped open the trunk and picked up the first suitcase, trying a few different angles to get them to both fit. His game of suitcase Tetris worked, but barely.
With that task completed, Ryan turned his attention back to Pops and the limited space inside the car.
“So, can you help me get another room at your place, Ryan?” Pops leaned over and slid the seat forward, then started to help Gina Mae into the half-sized back seat.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan noticed Gina Mae’s great-granddaughter standing cautiously to the side. Clearly, she didn’t want to get in Pops’ way, but she wasn’t convinced her assistance was not going to be needed. Ryan recognized the skeptical half-scowl on her face because it was written across his own. He could feel his eyebrows knitted into a quirky furrow.
“Your place?” The skepticism wasn’t just pasted on her face. It was woven through her voice too. “Do you own the hotel or something?”
Ryan had lived out under the glittering lights of Vegas long enough to automatically read into that statement. In this world, things were so often not what they seemed. And that included a long-lost girlfriend and her tag-along great-granddaughter.
Ryan hated that “gold digger” popped into his mind immediately. But he’d been trained a long time ago to look for signs and to anticipate the next move and then the next, and the next, so on until he reached the end game.
Why would some Social Security recipient find his grandfather online and drag along her great-granddaughter on this trip? Gina Mae seemed sincere and her great-granddaughter looked a little overwhelmed. But in this stop in the Nevada desert, things just were rarely what they seemed.
Everyone had a story.
And everyone knew that what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas.
Except for this time. Ryan knew something didn’t add up. He knew these two would not be staying in Vegas. They were on the next plane back to Texas, even if he had to charter a flight himself.
“Ryan?” Pops’s voice had the bark of a drill sergeant.
“Yeah?” Ryan answered without a thought, still trying to make sense of what was going on.
“The young lady asked you a question. Are you going to reply?”
Pops’s tone and words made Ryan feel very small. He hadn’t been taken down a notch in a long time. As the winner of the last four consecutive Global Poker Challenge rings, most people in this town knew who Ryan McBride was. And they all treated him with a champion’s deference.
“No, it’s not my hotel. I just live there.” Ryan looked over the convertible top of the car at the woman with the honey-blonde curls that fell over her shoulders and trailed down her back. “Pops? What are you doing?”
Bill ducked his head low and squished like a crab into the narrow back seat of the car.
“Sitting with my sweetheart. Is that okay?”
Ryan pushed his hand through his hair again. He usually carefully controlled all physical signs of emotion, reluctant to ever tip off an opponent. It was a key to playing good poker.
Good thing he was not at a table this afternoon. There was no way he could ever have concealed everything he thought about this whole crazy trip.
“Sure, Pops. I just didn’t think you two would fit comfortably back there. I’m not even sure that seat is made to hold preschoolers.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s comfortable, but we’ll do.” Bill squeezed the hand of the woman next to him and looked into her eyes with a relaxed smile. “Right, Gina Mae?”
Her smile bookended his. “Right as rain, Bill. My flowers are a bit squashed, though. Lisa Marie, get in the car and hold these, will you?”
Ryan saw Lisa exhale sharply. “Sure, Nana. Pass them up.”
Lisa ducked and slid into the front seat, then moved it up to give some more room to the cramped passengers in the back seat. She laid the proffered bouquet in her lap. Ryan caught a glimpse of her as he started the car and adjusted the volume on the radio. Between the curly hair, pinned up in a clip at the crown of her head, and the oversized riot of flowers, Lisa looked like an exasperated beauty queen.
In a town where most of the beauty was exactly as the adage said—skin deep—something about Lisa’s soft features made Ryan do a brief double-take. He wasn’t used to seeing a woman with no makeup and her hair carelessly secured with a plastic clip. For all that he didn’t understand why she was here or what her endgame would wind up proving to be, something about her was refreshing.
Ryan mentally slapped himself as he backed out of the parking space. It was never just about the chips your opponent put on the table or the cards they showed.
It was always about the endgame.
And until Ryan McBride knew what Lisa Marie Fleming and her little great-grandmother were up to, then he needed to stay on top of his own game so he and Pops didn’t come up with the losing hand.
No mental lapses. No loss of concentration. No signs that gave away his thoughts.
And no second glances at a clean, fresh face framed by some spiral waves of honey and brown sugar.
“Mr. McBride. It’s good to see you.” A uniformed man opened the door as they pulled under the valet porte-cochere at the Renaissance Grand. Another uniformed man materialized at Lisa’s door and swung it open, then helped her get out.
What in the name of Velvet Elvis were they wearing? Were those pantaloons?
Lisa narrowed her gaze, studying the strips of red and black and gold fabric fashioned into some kind of bubble shorts.
There were tights.
And feathers in floppy velvet berets.
She was looking at both of the freaking gentlemen of Verona. Good grief. Wait until she told her best friend Amanda—the English teacher back at Port Provident High School who loved all things Shakespeare.
Lisa stood back and looked at everything else surrounding her. Shades of red and gold and black set the tone for the entire entrance. The floor into the main lobby was black marble, polished to a high shine. A red carpet rolled out to the edge of the sidewalk. Lisa walked over to it to wait out of the way of the hustle and bustle. She remembered attending the Tony Awards years ago, stunned by all the glitter, spotlights, and theater royalty.
That night felt special, otherworldly. She had to admit that the Renaissance Grand felt much the same right now.
This was definitely like no other world she’d ever seen.
She’d been sucked into some parallel-universe-other-dimension-time-warp thing.
But she couldn’t lose her focus on the one thing that did make sense: getting Nana on the next possible plane back to Texas.
And while she was at it, Lisa silently thanked the little twinkling stars on the fake Da Vinci-styled ceiling above her that there were no men in velvet berets in Texas.
“Nana? Are you okay?” Lisa called to her great-grandmother, being gently escorted to the red carpet by one of the Veronian-style doormen on one side, and Bill on the other. The uniformed man who’d opened Ryan’s door grabbed both of the suitcases effortlessly, and as they neared the valet station, Lisa saw Ryan hold out a small roll of green-and-cream bills as a note of thanks.
“Should we take your car over to the residence's garage, Mr. McBride, or will you be coming back for it soon?” The man with the suitcases reached out, took the tip, and discreetly tucked them in his pocket.
“Go ahead and take her back to my space, Kip. I’m playing in the celebrity lead-up to the charity tournament tonight. It’ll be a short walk home.”
“Charity tournament?” Ryan’s grandfather turned with an emotional reaction. “Ryan, our rehearsal dinner is tonight. You’ve got to come with us.”
Ryan came up alongside his grandfather as Gina Mae hesitated behind them slightly. “Pops, I’ve been booked to play tonight for months. You’ve kind of sprung this whole wedding bells scenario on me in just the last hour or so, and I still don’t quite understand why you kept this all a secret. Where are you having dinner? What time?”
The gentleman stopped and leaned up against the first black marble pillar just inside the door. “Well, I don’t have a place yet. I was hoping you could recommend something. You know all the best places here.”
“Pops, I know a lot of great places. And the best are booked well in advance.” Ryan looked toward the corner of the room, then continued to follow the man with the suitcases to the reception desk. “Which I might could have helped you with if you’d given me a heads up about your plans.”
Bill looked at Ryan and gave him a shrug, then looked down at the floor. “You’d have talked me out of it, Son. I didn’t want you calculating the odds,” he said, the words almost falling under his breath. Bill waited for Gina Mae to catch up. Once her hand was firmly in his again, they both followed in Ryan’s wake.
Lisa trailed behind, feeling no hurry to get checked in. Despite the anachronistic Veronians, the hotel was beautiful. Shiny, bold colors were everywhere. The decoration was impeccable and modern yet with a strong Italian Renaissance feel.
Every tell-tale sign pointed to the fact that this wasn’t a place she’d choose to stay on a teacher’s salary. She’d have to figure out which almost-maxed-out credit card to put the next few days on. Lisa thought about the air conditioner repair her car needed and mentally moved it back several months on the calendar. Summer in Texas without A/C in her car was going to stink—literally—she’d be a sweating mess—but getting Nana out of here safely came before any creature comforts.
Even though Lisa wished she could find an online coupon and book the smallest room this place offered, as best she could figure out from the conversation between Ryan and the valet, Ryan lived somewhere nearby. He’d said he was playing in a tournament tonight. Surely he didn’t afford a residence in all this luxury by gambling?
Based on what he’d said back at the airport, it was more likely that he had some kind of ownership share in this hotel or something equally out of Lisa’s orbit.
Whatever he did, Ryan McBride clearly did it well.
Because Lisa was not at Port Provident High School anymore. This was a world of glitz she’d only heard of from others. And she was pretty sure everything about Ryan McBride and Las Vegas was way, way out of her league.
And Nana’s too.
Everything in this lobby strengthened Lisa’s resolve to get Nana out of this mess and get her the help she needed to make sure she was living out the rest of her years comfortably. Nana had practically raised her and had supported Lisa’s long-dimmed Broadway dreams. She deserved to have Lisa looking out for her now. The tables had turned, and it was Lisa’s obligation—no, privilege—to take care of the one person who’d never let her down.
Lisa looked at Nana, gently supported by Bill as they caught up to Ryan at the front desk. The older gentleman seemed sincere. And the look on his face at the airport when he took Nana into his arms had been just precious.
But that didn’t mean the plans Nana and Bill had apparently made were in either of their best interests.
Nana had always looked out for what was best for Lisa. She’d given sound counsel and wise advice through the years. Lisa could do no less for Nana now.
“We’ve got everything taken care of, Mr. McBride. You know we’ll always do what we can for you, sir.”
Lisa made it to the counter in time to watch Ryan place a black American Express Centurion card on the marble countertop. The onyx plastic blended almost perfectly with the surface on which it had been so casually laid.
AmEx Black. Wow. She’d heard about them, but never actually seen one. She didn’t play in that league, herself—a charge card given by invitation only, to people with eight figures of net worth and an annual income of more than a million dollars a year.
Quickly, she revised her estimation of Ryan McBride’s league.
She wasn’t just way, way out of it. She was way, way, way out of it.
Like millions upon millions of ways out of it.
“So, we’ll be at the Gran Mona Lisa at six-thirty, Russell. That will give my grandfather and his bride here enough time to dine and I can still be at the celebrity thing for the charity tournament by nine-thirty.” Ryan tucked the sleek rectangle of black plastic back in his wallet after the man behind the counter swiped it.
Lisa wondered if his wallet would slide back in those form-fitting jeans easily and caught herself staring just a little too long at some of Ryan McBride’s more valuable assets in front of her.
She blew out a harsh breath through pursed lips, mentally chiding herself for thinking more about Ryan McBride than her mission to protect Nana. She only had a matter of days to get this straightened out and get Nana on a plane back home—and booked in for a follow-up with the dementia specialist—without a wedding ring in tow.
“Lisa Marie? Are you okay?” Nana’s voice brought Lisa back to the here and now.
“Sure, Nana. Just a long day, that’s all. Some of us have been up since five-thirty this morning, in another time zone.”
“Well, it’s five o’clock now,” Bill said. “Why don’t you ladies go get some rest and get freshened up. We’ll meet you at the restaurant for dinner. What floor is it on, Ryan?”
“Fourth. Where are you going until dinner, Pops?”
“I thought I could go back to your place.”
Ryan shrugged. “Sure, but it’s kind of a long way over to the residence tower. I may live at the Renaissance Grand, but where I live isn’t the same as the hotel. I can get one of the guys to get you a golf cart to shuttle you over there.”
“I’ll be fine, fine.” Bill seemed so sure of himself. “And you two, will you be fine?”
Gina Mae absently patted the bottom of her silver curls. “Yes, of course. This is a lovely place.”
“What about you, Lisa?”
It was sweet that Bill was so concerned about his guests.
“Well, one question. What’s the dress code at this place? Nana packed—I have no idea what’s even in this suitcase.”
Bill twitched his lip into a thoughtful half-frown. “Well, I don’t know. Ryan?”
“For women, cocktail dresses or higher.” His eyes looked down and his gaze came to rest on the toes of Lisa’s bright yellow sneakers. “The Mona Lisa is the nicest restaurant on the property.”
Nana shook her head. “I brought my bright blue dress. I can wear that. But I didn’t pack anything fancy like that for you. I just brought that dress you wore to the winter formal at school. I thought it would match the flowers I want for the wedding. I want a big bouquet of roses.”
“Is there a place that sells dresses here?” Lisa swallowed, thinking about what kind of shops—and price tags—would be in an ostentatious palace like this.
Her poor credit card. Her poor, plain old green American Express card that was almost to the limit.
Ryan pointed toward the opening to a long, wide hall. “There are shops over there. Look, I’ll get Charley to take care of your Nana and my Pops and I’ll show you. I need to check on a few things for tonight and the shops are on my way to the elevators.”
Lisa hated shopping. Then, she rolled her eyes back in her head as she thought of something she hated even more.
Shopping on a tight deadline.
And an even tighter budget.
In a hotel that clearly didn’t know the first thing about affordable.
Especially schoolteacher affordable.
Just one more thing she now needed to sort out, thanks to Nana and her crazy ideas. So far Spring Break was anything but the relaxing time Lisa had planned on.
––––––––
“It’ll work.”
