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Gracie lived in the same gated community as Gray’s parents, right by the country club. Her home was small by country club standards. Most of the houses were grand McMansions. Gracie’s was a cozy ranch that could just have easily been in any neighborhood in my home town. I already felt right at home.
“Hello. Welcome.” Gracie greeted us as she opened the door. She stepped back to allow us to enter. “I thought we’d have some iced tea out on the patio. It’s another perfect day to be outdoors.”
“I agree,” I said. I shook Gracie’s hand. Gray hugged her affectionately. We followed Gracie through the house, exiting again onto a patio.
“Days like today remind me of my childhood summers. Well, minus the humidity.”
“Where did you grow up?” I asked.
“In Ohio.” She sat on a chaise lounge overlooking the golf course. I took the chair next to her. Gray sat facing us at the table. “I recognize a Midwestern girl in you. The tea is unsweetened.” Gracie raised her glass in a toast and winked at me.
“Oh, thank you! I miss regular old tea!” I picked up the glass next to my chair. North of the Mason Dixon line, sugar was optional in tea. I’d noticed over the years, the farther south you go, the sweeter the tea, while the farther west you go, tea wasn’t usually offered as an option.
The patio was covered with a wooden pergola. Plants hung around the perimeter and ceiling fans were installed every few feet. It felt very warm and inviting. I’d have loved to cuddle up with a book here and waste away the afternoon. Gracie must have noticed me taking it all in.
“I enjoy the outdoors. The fans help with the heat so I can enjoy it for longer,” Gracie said.
“I like the outdoors, too. It’s very peaceful out here. You’d never guess you were in Vegas except for the mountains in the distance.”
“This was the first place I found peace when I moved here. Right on this very golf course.”
“What brought you to Vegas?” I asked.
“My parents were killed in a car accident when I was seventeen. Mary Francis and Michael welcomed me into their home until I found my way. Mary Francis is my cousin.”
I looked for a family resemblance but couldn’t find any. Mary Francis was dark-haired with dark eyes. She was cold and hard, like a beautiful statue. Gracie was blonde-haired and blue-eyed. She moved with grace, like a feline. Passion moved in— My mind snapped into focus. Passion could pass as Gracie’s daughter. I didn’t realize how much they looked alike until this moment.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” I said, hoping Gracie didn’t notice my lack of attention.
“It was a long time ago but thank you. The grass here reminded me of home. I would pack a lunch every day, walk over here and just sit on the grass. Only a small-town girl can truly appreciate the feel of grass under her feet.”
“Ain’t that the truth. I used to go to Lincoln Park in Chicago and walk around the grass barefoot. There’s a joy in feeling the grass between your toes.” Gracie smiled and looked back at the course.
“You get it, then? The green?” she asked.
“I do. Other than parks, the only grass in Chicago is two feet by four feet patches.”
I straightened my clothes and enjoyed the view before proceeding.
“So, you’ve known Franky for a long time?” I prompted.
“Oh, yes. He was the first person I met here outside of family.” Gracie blushed as she spoke. “I think he used to have a crush on me. A long ago, schoolyard crush. I’d see him watching me before walking over. Like he was getting up the nerve to talk to me.”
A shiver went down my spine. “It’s hard to imagine him without his confidence. Do you think he still has a crush on you?”
“Oh, no. Maybe up until recently, but I believe a certain dancer holds his interest now.”
“That’s nice.” I was a romantic at heart. I wanted everyone to find someone. I gagged a little thinking the dancer she referred to was also my sister. I asked another question to get the image of Frank and Passion out of my head. “Why hasn’t he ever married? If you don’t mind my asking... you know, it’s just, he’s good-looking, rich, generous. I’d think women would flock to him.”
“The women flock, but he’s always kept his distance. I think the hotel is his first true love. For him, it was the ticket out.”
“Out?” I asked before sipping my tea.
“Can we keep this off the record?”
“Of course. The article is about the hotel, primarily. I just like to get to know the people involved, too, though. They are the heart and soul. The owners and how hands-on they are, the maids taking pride in the rooms’ appearance, the maintenance men we never see, but work so hard to keep everything running smoothly. Hotels fascinate me. They are their own little world.” I stopped talking when I realized I was babbling on. Other than Gray, no one knew I’d quit the article but I was still nervous at the deception.
“I like that. Franky has always believed in personal touches with the clients. He walks the floor multiple times each day, just to say hello to strangers. He buys drinks and cheers on winners. It’s really quite nice to watch.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for the article. It is a nice touch.” I took a deep breath before plunging back in. Some interviews went smoothly while others were like pulling teeth and made me nervous. “Back to ‘getting out.’ What were you referring to?”
“Franky was raised by an abusive, alcoholic father and a weak mother. As far as life went, his prospects for the future were slim, except that he befriended Guy Bianchi.”
“And that would make a difference?” I asked.
“To Frank, it was everything. Guy was walking back to the hotel one night and cut down an alley. Guy thought he was invincible, even as a kid, but three men tried to jump him–”
“Didn’t the men know who his father was? That seems like poor planning on their part,” I said, interrupting her.
“Do you know who Guy’s father was?” Gracie sat up straighter and turned toward me.
“Yes. I’ve spent a few hours at the library already.” My cheeks burned. I knew I was only doing my (fake) job, but I always felt like a Nosey Nellie when I did my research.
“It’s okay. Guy can’t hide it. It just... is what it is,” Gracie said.
“You talk about him like he’s still alive,” I said.
“Who? Guy?”
“Yes. Like he could come back.”
Gracie chuckled. “I guess, in my mind, he still haunts me. It’s like he’s here and gone all at the same time. Everywhere I look, I see him. Sometimes, I swear, I catch a glimpse of him but I know he’s gone.” Gracie looked away as sadness filled her eyes.
“I didn’t realize you were so close to the situation with the Bianchis,” I said.
Surprise caused Gracie to sit up straighter. She looked to Gray first and then to me.
“You don’t know? I assumed Gray filled you in on the family history.”
“Some.”
“Guy was my husband.”