by Beverly Long
If that’s what she was interested in.
* * *
At breakfast, Megan was quiet. Seth chatted with Abigail about the day. She was excited to finally be part of a grand opening and had toured the space where the fashion show would occur.
It would be on the second floor of their building, directly above the boutique. Evidently, at one time, it had been a dance studio but that tenant had departed years ago. Megan’s contractors had cleaned it up, given it a quick coat of paint and a red carpet of sorts had been fashioned. Chairs and a sound system had been rented. Tonight, most of the chairs would go and tall tables would be brought in so that the cocktail party could be held in the same space.
He was glad to be back in Vegas and happy that he’d see his partners and their wives and in Rico’s case, almost wife. Megan had offered invites to the fashion show to Jules Morgan, Kellie McGarry and Laura Collins and all had responded that they’d be delighted to come. Royce, Trey and Rico would join them for the cocktail party in the evening.
Seth had talked to his mom early this morning. She’d said she was feeling good and looking forward to the cocktail party. He’d arranged for Trey and Kellie to pick her up.
Right now, Trey and Rico were out of the office, conducting a security audit for one of the casinos. Royce had said in one of his emails that he’d be in the office. Seth hoped to have a minute to swing by and say hello and get an update on the background check he’d requested on Nadia Vitron. He’d have to make sure Megan was in a safe spot, though. His gut told him that even though Colorado Springs had been without incident, the danger wasn’t over. Both the snake and the tainted candy had had the potential to have serious consequences for her. She’d escaped unharmed. Would her luck continue to hold out?
He wished to hell he knew where Ross Lewis was. Even if he wasn’t the blond-haired man, Seth was willing to bet his last dollar that he was involved in some way in Megan’s troubles.
They finished breakfast and then drove to the boutique. The brown paper was still in the windows, but he’d seen photos of the inside and knew they were ready. They opened the main doors of the building and the boutique was off to their left. He glanced to his right and saw that the antiques store had a closed sign in its window. A plastic hours sign said it opened at ten and closed at six. It was too early yet.
Past the boutique was an elevator to the second, third and fourth floors. Across from the elevator were stairs that led to the same.
“I’m taking the elevator,” Abigail said. “I’m assuming it will hold my weight.”
Megan pushed the button and the door slid open. She pointed to the sign on the right side. “Unless all together we weigh more than 2,200 pounds, we should be okay.”
He wanted a look at the stairs but he’d do that later. He’d studied the blueprints of the building on her computer. She’d gotten them when she was first considering purchasing the building. So he understood the layout, but it was always helpful to see it in person.
They got out on the second floor. Abigail pointed to her left. “That empty storage room at the end of the hall has been converted into a place for the models to change clothes.”
“Can I take a quick look?” he asked.
“Sure,” Megan said.
She unlocked the door. It was an empty room, maybe fifteen by fifteen. Two large mirrors on rollers had been brought in as well as a portable clothes rack with empty hangers.
“The outfits are still in the other room,” Abigail said. “Laid out. I thought you’d want to see them in person.” Abigail had been sending photos for days and Megan had been making small tweaks.
They left that space, passed by the restrooms, the elevator again and then got to the big room that was directly over Megan’s boutique. Megan again used her keys to unlock the big double doors and once she pushed them open, it appeared the space was ready to go. Rows of chairs. A middle aisle where the models would parade. Microphone in the front.
Like moths drawn to a flame, Abigail and Megan immediately went to the clothes. Within fifteen minutes, the models started showing up and outfits were passed out.
As attendees started to arrive, he stood near the door, carefully watching everyone who came in. He’d memorized the latest photo of Ross Lewis that he’d been able to unearth and nobody looked remotely similar to that. There were also no blond men. Several blond women, but nobody with the right height and weight.
Jules, Kellie and Laura arrived together. Each woman hugged and kissed him on the cheek.
“So you’ve spent the last ten days shopping. I’m dying to know whether ankle pants are in or out,” Laura said.
“Speaking of pants, Seth, do these pants make me look fat?” Jules asked, hands on her hips.
“Hmm,” Kellie said, index finger up to her lips. “I’m confused about my color wheel. Do you think I’m a summer?”
“I think I feel sorry for Rico, Royce and Trey.”
“Seriously,” Laura said, “you must be able to get us some sort of a discount.”
“I’m going to tell her to add another 25 percent for you,” he grumbled.
Kellie and Laura exchanged a high five.
“Was it horrible, Seth?” Jules asked.
“It was...just a job,” he said.
The three women exchanged a look. “Nothing snarky to say about women, women’s fashions or the cluster that occurs when those two things coincide?” Kellie asked, her tone thoughtful.
Laura reached for his forehead and laid her hand flat. “Oh, honey, are you sick? What happened to the don’t bother to ask me to conform to your social norms Seth that we know and love?”
He certainly wasn’t telling them the truth. That he’d fallen for a woman who only wanted light and easy. “You three should take a seat. The show’s about to start.”
He retreated to the corner of the room where he could see everything.
Once the fashion show started, nobody in the audience would have known that twenty minutes earlier, it had been chaos. As usual, Megan was engaging and informative, and he had a feeling that everybody who attended would be visiting the Vegas store sometime in the near future. It lasted a little more than an hour and by the time the models cleared out, it was almost noon.
He saw Jules, Kellie and Laura at the front of the room, likely congratulating Megan on a great show. He hoped that was it and they hadn’t succumbed to the idea of interrogating her to see what was going on with him.
He waited until they and everyone else had left besides Abigail before approaching.
“Are you hungry?” Megan was asking Abigail.
“Of course. I’m eating for two.”
Seth stepped forward. “How about the two of you come with me for just a quick stop across the street. I need to speak with Royce. And then I’ll take you both to lunch.”
“I’m in the mood for a greasy burger,” Abigail said.
“If Evan hadn’t already married you, I’d hope that you would consider me,” Seth said.
Abigail laughed and patted her belly. “You don’t want to take this on,” she said.
“I wouldn’t mind.” He said it and then realized that Megan was staring at him.
“You want children?” she asked.
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I’d love it.”
“How many?” she asked.
“Less than a litter. Maybe more than one.”
Abigail reached for the door. “Third wheel moving out into the hallway.”
“No, no,” Megan said, shaking her head. “It’s fine. Let’s go.”
None of them said anything as they walked across the street and into the Wingman Security offices. Of course they hadn’t talked about kids. Kids weren’t light and easy. Kids were hard and scary and wonderful.
Inside the office, he motioned for Megan and Abigail to have a seat in the waiting area
. “I’ll just be a second.”
* * *
He was barely down the hall when Abigail leaned forward. “Oh, my God, Megan. You have got to keep him. He’s perfect.”
Megan rubbed her forehead. “Because he wants children?”
“Yes. Because you’d be a fantastic mom. But more importantly, he adores you. His eyes follow you around the room.”
“He’s getting paid to provide security for me.”
“He’s not doing this for the money, honey. Stop kidding yourself.”
Megan frowned at Abigail. “When did you get so smart? I’m supposed to be the one giving you advice.”
“It feels good to have the shoe on the other foot,” Abigail said. “Although I did feel a bit like a voyeur back there. The two of you need to talk.”
“After we get the store open,” Megan said. “Light and easy. That’s what I need right now.”
“Okay, I won’t push it. Just don’t mess this up.”
* * *
Royce handed Seth the file. “Nadia Vitron was born in Vegas and has lived here her entire life. Up until last year, she was married to Malcomb Vitron, but they are now divorced. She continues to live in the house they owned, located on Crestmountain Drive. She got a ticket for the accident involving Megan but other than that, has a clean driving record. Her vehicle was totaled in the accident and she recently purchased, with cash, a new Cadillac SUV. I could not find any connection between Nadia and either Logan Lewis or his brother, Ross Lewis.”
Seth nodded, leafing through the folder. He looked at the picture that Royce had found somewhere. A woman, her elbow on a bar, a cocktail in her other hand. “This her?”
“Yeah. She posted it on social media.”
She was squeezed into a black dress that looked about ready to burst at the seams, and her blond shoulder-length hair had very dark roots, hinting that the color came out of a bottle. Suddenly, he looked up. “Wait. You said that she continues to live in the house on Crestmountain Drive. That doesn’t mesh with what Megan was told. Nadia was supposedly relocating to Carmel but didn’t yet have a permanent address, so she provided an address of a hotel.”
Royce shook his head. “I took a drive by. The SUV was parked in the driveway.”
“We need to talk to this woman. And I want to know where the hell she’s getting her money. Her new vehicle is expensive.”
“I know. Her house is nice but nothing special. And I couldn’t find any recent employment records for her. The last earnings reported for her was several years ago when she worked as a commercial loan officer for one of the banks in the area.”
“Do you have time to follow up on this?” Seth asked.
“I’ll make time,” Royce said.
Seth leaned forward, his forearms on his side of the desk, his hands clasped. “I saw your wife earlier.”
Royce’s eyes took on a look. He loved Jules to distraction.
“She can be a pain,” Seth said. “Her and Kellie and Laura. All pains.”
Royce smiled. “Did the three of them gang up on you, Seth?”
“Maybe,” Seth admitted.
Royce considered him. “Did it have anything to do with Megan North?”
“Might have.” Seth looked down at his folded hands. “I think I’m in love with her,” he said.
Royce appeared to be considering his next words. “Because you saw her underwear?”
“That didn’t hurt,” Seth admitted. “But she could probably wear burlap and make it look good. She’s...special. The real deal.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“She’s only interested in light and easy,” Seth said.
Royce scratched his head. “Megan took on a huge responsibility when she was barely out of her teens. Now she’s opening four stores, buying commercial real estate, becoming a landlord. None of that is light and easy. Maybe she just needs a little time. Be patient.”
“Were you patient with Jules?”
“I was an idiot with Jules. I let her go for eight years.”
If he lost Megan for eight years, he didn’t know if he could go on. “Patience has never been one of my strengths.”
“That’s the crazy part of falling in love,” Royce said. “Nothing is really what it always has seemed. You’ll find a way.”
Chapter 20
Abigail got her greasy burger for lunch and Seth joined her. Megan ate a salmon salad and felt a little jealous. She stole some of their fries.
Now they were back at the boutique, getting ready for the ribbon-cutting and the midafternoon staff meeting. Seth had helped them remove the brown paper from the display windows and the place looked great. It was almost twice the size of the other three stores, allowing plenty of room for the coffee bar and comfortable chairs. For the grand opening, they’d have a barista there serving up drinks. On most days, the staff would make the specialty coffees, put them in carafes and it would be a self-serve operation.
Abigail was straightening a display of scarves and Megan was adding accessories to one of the mannequins. Seth was staring out the front door, at the antiques store across the hall. “Did you hear anything more from the people who owned the antiques store after you told them that you weren’t able to offer them a ten-year lease?”
“Weston sent a text and said they were disappointed.”
He turned to look at her. “You and Weston are texting?”
“He’s my attorney. Yes, we text.”
“Just business?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“If he shows up tonight, I might shove his phone down his throat. He’ll have to wait until it makes its way through his large colon before he can continue texting.”
“Uh, gross. You’re not serious, anyway,” she said.
“I’m not?” Seth asked.
She wasn’t sure. He was staring out her windows, across the hall. “What are you looking at?”
“Precco’s Fine Antiques,” he said, reading the writing on their window. “They still haven’t opened for the day. Earlier when we arrived for the fashion show, that made sense. But it’s hours later, and there’s no sign of activity there. Yet the sign on the door says that they should be open from ten to six today. I mean surely they have to know that today is the ribbon-cutting. You had a banner across the window that faces their store. They had to have seen it a whole bunch of times. So this is an opportunity to have important local people in their building, maybe taking a few minutes to scope out their store, and they’re a no-show. That doesn’t sound right for people wanting a ten-year lease.”
He was right. “I’ll make an effort to get to know them better now that the store is opening. Once I get my apartment rented, maybe I can buy something from them. Or—” she paused “—maybe you can quiz them tonight. We invited all the tenants in the building to the cocktail party.”
He guessed he didn’t really care if they were terrible businesspeople as long as they paid Megan the rent on time and didn’t cause her any problems. He just didn’t like it when things didn’t add up. Maybe he would take a minute tonight and check out Mr. Precco.
A half hour before the ribbon-cutting was to start, staff started to arrive. No Jasmine for this opening. Instead, he met Patrice Woodman, the manager of the Vegas store. She was midforties and had very short red hair. She didn’t command the attention that Jasmine did when she entered a room but he had a feeling, after watching her for a half hour, that she was going to be very competent.
Once the ribbon-cutting was over, they had their staff meeting. More people were employed by the Vegas store because it was bigger. There were eighteen people in the room. He thought by now that he could have given Megan’s rah-rah speech, but she surprised him. Today she talked about how grateful she was that the other three openings had gone so well and that she was confident that the Vegas store would be even bigger an
d better.
The cocktail party was again a black-tie affair. Back at the hotel, Seth showered and slipped on the tux he’d worn in Colorado Springs with a fresh white shirt. He hoped Megan might wear the same black dress that she’d also worn that night. He had fond memories of that dress and of taking it off her.
But when she opened her door to the hallway, he saw that she was wearing black but it was a different dress. This one was strapless, oh, yes, and came to the floor in what looked like layers of shimmer. Her hair was up. She wore earrings but no other jewelry, leaving her lovely neck and shoulders bare. She looked...like a princess.
If his partners ever found out that he was thinking crazy stuff like this, he would never live it down.
Abigail was also in black but it was to the knee, with the material hugging her baby bump. She wore more makeup than he’d previously seen her in and he suspected the sisters had had some fun getting ready.
“You both look very nice,” he said.
“Thank you,” Megan said. “You do, too. I’m excited about tonight. Last one. Biggest party yet. On your home turf.”
He liked that. Tonight, it wouldn’t be just him watching the room. Royce, Trey and Rico would also be there. Nothing was going to happen with the four of them on high alert.
She glanced down at her black high-heeled sandals. “I may regret these shoes because tonight I’ll have to stay until the bitter end. Jasmine won’t be here to finish out the night for me.”
It would be a late night but once they came back, Abigail would be returning home with her husband and Megan would once again be alone in her room. It was going to take him about five seconds to abandon his room and find her bed.
“I’ll stay until my back gives out,” Abigail said, “or until Evan’s flight gets in and he arrives to take me home.”
Megan shook her head. “You, and Kellie McGarry, will take chairs when we get there. And if Evan doesn’t arrive by a reasonable time, we’ll find another way for you to get home.”
