Wanna Get Lucky?
Page 33
Teddie was right behind. Grabbing a robe from the back of a chair, he helped me into it. “Follow me.”
Admiring his long, lean lines, I gladly did as I was told.
His apartment had a huge dressing room, as mine did, lined with mirrors. He grabbed a large, gold box from the top of his dresser and presented it to me. Gold boxes meant only one thing—the Palace.
“Open it.”
He held the box as I lifted off the top. I gasped when I saw what was inside. I lifted the delicate fabric and held it up.
Intricately beaded in teals, blues and purples on two layers of chiffon, so thin that each single layer was translucent, but together they were provocatively modest, it was the most beautiful gown I had ever seen.
I looked at him quizzically. “When did you get this?”
“I bought it the day we were there with Miss Patterson, but it needed some alteration. I picked it up the other night when you tried to call me on my cell and couldn’t get me—the night I was trying to stifle my inner caveman.” He set the box aside. “Put it on.”
I shrugged out of the robe and stepped into the cloud of material, then pulled it up and snaked my arm through, careful not to rip the delicate fabric. Teddie, standing between me and the mirror, zipped me up. He brushed my hair back from my face, gave me a wink, then moved aside.
A beautiful—even sexy—woman stared back at me. My eyes grew wide. Off one shoulder, cut down the back and slit up one side to the very limit of good taste, the dress fit like a second skin until it draped in soft folds just below my hips.
Teddie moved behind me, his chin on my bare shoulder, his arms around my waist. “This is the you I’ve seen every time I’ve looked at you since the day we met. Remember that day?”
I smiled as I leaned back into him. “Backstage after your show at the Flamingo.”
“You walked up to me and introduced yourself. You told me you wanted me, then you got all flustered when you realized what you’d said.”
“You knew I meant to say I wanted your show, but you left me dangling in the wind.”
“I’m shallow; I take my yucks where I find them.” He waggled his eyebrows at me over my shoulder.
“That sounds like something I’d say.”
“Anyway, this is how I see you—sloe-eyed, your mouth a little puffy and bruised after an afternoon of unbridled sex—with me, of course. Your hair loose, sexy.” He nibbled on my ear for a moment, sending shivers through me. “You blow me away. You always have.”
GOING from my afternoon with Teddie to watching the procession of adult film stars parade down the red carpet was truly ruining the sublime with the ridiculous. Teddie, resplendent in his perfectly fitted tux, held my hand as we stood off to the side and watched the show.
“Welcome to the land of the Stepford porn stars,” I whispered in Teddie’s ear as starlet after cookie-cutter starlet, all bleached, waxed and suitably siliconed, sashayed down the gauntlet to the raucous approval of the crowd gathered six deep.
Young men in varying states of inebriation hung over the velvet ropes shouting their favorite star’s name. Occasionally, one of the women would grant a request for a photograph or a kiss. One particularly brazen young thing almost started a riot when she raised her dress and gave the crowd a money shot.
“That one clearly doesn’t understand that some things are best left to the imagination,” Teddie remarked.
“Did you truly expect subtlety from this crowd?”
“Do you know who any of these women are?” Teddie asked, God bless him.
“I don’t really focus on faces when I watch porn.”
He shot me a startled look.
“What?” I kept my face a mask of innocence.
The roar of the crowd drowned out his reply.
Miranda, a young man on either arm, posed for photographs and adulation. Tonight she wore a flowing robe reminiscent of those worn by royalty in an earlier era—except for the fact Miranda’s royal wardrobe was completely see-through—sort of a modern take on the emperor’s new clothes. Every square inch of her body was displayed for all to appreciate.
“Miranda is certainly very comfortable with her body,” Teddie whispered.
“Nobody should be that comfortable.”
Behind Miranda, Subway marched by himself—a good sport letting his wife have her fun.
Catching sight of us, Subway ducked under the ropes and wormed his way through the crowd. He wrapped me in a bear hug then planted one of his famous kisses on me. “Lucky! You look remarkable!”
“Who knew?”
“Theodore.” Subway shook Teddie’s hand. “You have the most stunning date of all. One, I understand, you pilfered from me.”
Teddie beamed in my direction. His grin shot a jolt of warmth through me—I didn’t need to be clairvoyant to know what he was thinking.
Miranda with her boy toys muscled in beside Subway. “Theodore, you look good enough to eat.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively and said, “If I only had the time.”
“My loss, I’m sure,” Teddie shot back.
“Lucky, these are my friends.” She proffered the boys for my inspection. “You remember, the ones with the little camera by the pool?”
“Right.”
“They’re going to be technical advisors on our next film.”
“You boys be careful,” I said. “She eats young men like you for dinner.”
One of the youngsters looked over-the-moon with anticipation. The other one looked at me as if he couldn’t decide whether I was being literal or figurative. Keeping my expression bland, I didn’t give him a hint. He’d jumped into the cage with the tiger; he was on his own.
“Nice dress,” Miranda said, I assumed to me, since I was the only one in our little throng wearing one.
“It’s a wee bit conservative for you, don’t you think?” I asked. “Who are you dressed as tonight?”
“I’m the Whore of Babylon,” she announced as she adopted a regal position, putting her assets on display. “What do you think?”
“Appropriate,” I said. Momentarily at a loss, it was all I could think of.
Teddie leaned down to Subway and said, “Is this where I tell you your wife has a nice ass and you hit me in the nose?”
Subway laughed and put a hand to his wife’s back, urging her to move. “Come on, Miranda. You and Lucky have dueled enough for now. Besides, we’re wanted inside.”
The four of them disappeared into the ballroom, leaving Teddie and me alone as the crowd rapidly thinned.
“Do you think Miranda knows that the Whore of Babylon is an allegorical figure of supreme evil associated with the Antichrist?” Teddie asked.
“Probably not, but if you told her that prophesy spoke of a beast with seven heads and ten horns taking down the Whore of Babylon, she would think that had a lot of interesting possibilities.”
“Where did you learn that?” he asked after he stopped laughing.
“Harvard isn’t the only institution of higher learning.”
“They’re going to be sad to hear that.” Teddie hooked his thumb toward the ballroom. “Do you really want to go to the banquet and awards thing?”
“You’re not dying to know who wins the award for the best up-and-comer?”
He shot me a look. “They don’t really have an award for that, do they?”
“Subway wins it every year.”
“I want to be like him when I’m his age,” Teddie said with an evil grin.
“You’ll need to find a new lover.”
Teddie shook his head. “Too high a price to pay. Seriously though, do you have to go?” He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he hoped the answer was no.
I shook my head. “I don’t think we’ll even be missed.”
“Good.” He grabbed my elbow and steered me back toward the casino. “We’re young, alive, in love, all dressed up with money in our pockets. Where would you like to go?”
I thought for a minute. “I kn
ow just the place.”
RIDING the elevator, I waited until the last guest got off before I stuck the key into the panel, then removed the cover over the button that said Babel, and pressed it. Fifty-three stories up, Babel, our new rooftop lounge, was set to open next weekend.
The construction crew had left thousands of lights twinkling in the branches of the potted trees surrounding the swimming pool, and the roof retracted so the stars added their own sparkle—perfect. Babel had been designed to attract the younger, hip crowd, but tonight, we had it all to ourselves.
Hand in hand we walked to the edge of the rooftop terrace. Teddie put his arm around me as we drank in the view. Vegas stretched to the horizon in every direction—the flashing multicolored lights of the Strip; the white lights of the neighborhoods where people lived quiet lives, raising families; the moving red and white lights of cars coming and going, tracing the highways and streets in lines of light; the landing lights of the planes on approach to McCarran, hanging like a string of pearls in the velvety blackness of night sky.
My town.
Teddie hugged me tight, then lifted my chin and kissed me deeply, awakening every cell in my body.
My life.
My Nextel rang.
Teddie groaned, then laughed a resigned sort of laugh as he fished the thing out of his pocket. “Can’t the others cover for you tonight?”
“They were here all last night and all day today. I gave them both the rest of the weekend off.” I flipped open the phone, put it on the speaker, and said, “O’Toole.”
“Oh, Ms. O’Toole!” Sergio’s voice sounded strained as he talked rapid-fire. “We have this man, in room 12107. He is spitting mad and naked as a jaybird. Housekeeping found him. There is this trapeze, and this rope, and duct tape around his . . . well, you will have to see him yourself.”
“On my way.”
“Nice to know your life is getting back to normal.” Teddie took my hand and led me to the elevators. “A naked man, duct tape around his member, a trapeze, rope, how’d you get so lucky?”
I threw my arms around his neck and just before my mouth closed over his I murmured, “Lover, I was born lucky.”
Only the beginning . . .
Table of Contents
Cover
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two