The Emi Lost & Found Series

by Lori L. Otto

  “Yes, that makes sense, Em,” I mock her.

  “Shut up,” she laughs. “I’m taking it slow... with them, too.”

  “Okay, Em, whatever you want.”

  “What are you doing tonight?” she asks.

  “Not sure. Maybe a little gambling. Definitely some sight seeing... people watching...”

  “Do you need a little luck?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt, why?”

  “I thought you might... Check your email.”

  “Now?”

  “I think now would be a good time.” I pull out the laptop and find an outlet to plug it in. It takes a few minutes to boot up and connect to the wireless in the hotel. A flood of messages load into my inbox, and I quickly scan through them to find one from Emi. The subject is simply “Good Luck.”

  I save the attachment to my desktop and click it to open it up. When the file opens, I slowly inhale through my teeth, hold the breath in as I take in the gorgeous black and white photograph, and then exhale sharply. It is a side profile shot of Emi on my bed in the loft, her legs pulled into her chest, her head resting on her knee, her eyes looking into the camera, her lips slightly parted. She is holding a small four-leafed clover that is spot colored green. She is completely nude.

  She laughs. “That’s the response I was hoping for.”

  “It’s beautiful. You’re perfect,” I say to her.

  “Teresa helped me take it,” she explains. I remember that photography is one of her roommate’s other hobbies. Men and photography, sometimes both at the same time.

  “Lucky girl,” I spoke in a trance, unable to take my eyes off of the computer screen.

  “I just wanted you to remember what’s waiting for you back in New York.”

  “I was in no danger of forgetting that, but I’ll take reminders like this every day,” I say. “My god, baby, you’ll be the death of me.” I cringe as the lust invades my vocabulary again.

  She sighs into the phone.

  “Um... Emi, are we okay?”

  “Sure, Nate,” she tells me simply.

  “I can’t wait to kiss your lips,” I say, losing myself in the picture, “or your shoulders... your arms... legs... breasts...”

  “Okay,” she cuts me off. “I’m going to leave you to enjoy your picture now.”

  “Yes, I’m going to take this to a printer to make a huge life-size poster,” I tease. “I can afford a billboard...” I ponder.

  “Nate, don’t you dare!”

  “Em, I wouldn’t, don’t worry. I don’t want anyone else seeing your amazing body. I’m jealous enough of Teresa.”

  “Good, because it’s only for you,” she says.

  “Thank you. It’s unbelievable. I’m a little surprised. You’ve never been so... confident,” I tell her.

  “It’s your fault,” she says. “You make me feel... beautiful.”

  “Emi, you are.”

  “Alright, I’m blushing now... I need to get some work done... Like ya, Nate.”

  “Like you, Em,” I respond automatically, the words the same ones we’ve always exchanged, wondering if I should go ahead and tell her I love her now. “Good night,” are the only other words that come out.

  “Bye.”

  ~ * ~

  “Nate, stop what you’re doing!” Startled, I look up to see Shannon, Albert and another woman I’ve never met standing in the doorway of the new restaurant. They’re all dressed to the nines as they come to see my current work-in-progress.

  “What do you guys want?” I ask, smiling, putting my brush down carefully and wiping the paint off my fingers. Albert shakes my hand as Shannon squeezes my arm.

  “Nate, this is Cherry.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I tell the woman with dark red hair.

  “The pleasure’s mine,” she purrs. I shift uncomfortably.

  “We want you to get out of here for a night,” Albert says.

  “I’m working,” I laugh.

  “You’re working too much,” Shannon informs me. “You need a break. You’ve been working non-stop for three weeks. Have you enjoyed the city at all?”

  “A little,” I tell them. “I’ve got a deadline, you know?”

  “It’s not a hard deadline,” Albert argues. “That’s your own self-inflicted deadline.”

  “True.” I want to wrap this up to get back to Emi as soon as possible. Whatever it takes.

  “Well, you’re taking the night off and coming with us.”

  “No,” I huff. “I’m not dressed for whatever you have in mind.”

  “We have time,” Shannon says. “We’ll close up here. You go to your hotel, throw on a suit and we’ll meet you in the Bellagio bar in an hour.”

  I sigh heavily, not really wanting to be social tonight, but I’ve turned them down twice this week, and this time, it doesn’t seem like they’re going to take no for an answer. “All right.”

  I seal up my paints quickly and rinse my brushes before leaving the club. Cherry flashes a quick smile as I walk out the front door. I hope she’s not here for me.

  Albert and Shannon have made sure my stay in Vegas is nothing short of spectacular. The suite at the Bellagio is amazing, the car is fast, and they stock the club with healthy food and water, having picked up on my eating habits in LA. Albert has hinted at setting me up with women the entire time, but I’ve told him I’m not interested. I guess he truly believed me when I told him Emi was just a friend.

  After showering and changing, I head downstairs to meet the trio that awaits me.

  “You look nice,” Shannon says.

  “High-roller,” Albert adds. “Cufflinks and everything. We’re hitting the high-stakes tables. Hope you’re good at blackjack.”

  I laugh internally.

  We find two seats at a reserved blackjack table. Albert and I sit down and ante up. The women stand behind us, over our shoulders, talking amongst themselves, mostly in hushed whispers. I haven’t been able to make out a single word, but then again, I’m not really interested in the conversation. As luck would have it, I get blackjack on the first two hands, and my good fortune continues through the next hour, through multiple dealers. By the time we decide to move to a craps table, I’m already up $12,500. Albert has won about $7,000. The women are giddy with excitement.

  The craps table is crowded, and someone is on a winning streak. We play through a few shooters, and then it’s Albert’s turn. He holds the dice up to each woman for her to blow on them for luck. His turn continues for seven rolls of the die, and we’re both on a pretty big winning streak. Waitresses are serving Albert and the women drink after drink. I’ve been holding on to the one glass of scotch Albert ordered for me, just to keep him from incessantly insisting I drink with him. He hasn’t realized it’s the same glass. When he was sober, he respected my preference, but when he was buzzed, he often bought me drinks that would sit, untouched.

  When it’s my turn, I pull my arm back to throw the dice, but Cherry grasps my wrist and stops me.

  “You need some luck,” she says. Luck. I think back to that photo of Emi that sits on my computer, awaiting my return to the room. She is the only luck I want, the only woman I want. I hold the die up for her. I ignore the way her lips form into the perfect “o” when she blows on them. She smirks when my eyes meet hers again.

  I roll a three on my first and only shot. My turn is immediately over. I pocket my chips and back away.

  “Sorry,” I tell the table. “Hey, Al, I think I’m gonna take a break for awhile, walk around for a bit.”

  “Do you mind if I join you?” Cherry asks.

  “I, uh...” I stammer as I shake my head.

  “Hold up,” Albert says, taking me to the side away from Shannon and Cherry. “What do you think of Cherry?”

  “She’s pretty. Seems nice enough.”

  “Do you think you may want to hook up with her tonight?”

  “No,” I choke out a laugh. “Umm... not my type.”

  “I was hoping you’d
say that,” he says, then motions for the women to join us. “Well, Nate, if you want to meet up with us later, just call me. We’ll be around.”

  “Sounds good,” I smile, shaking everyone’s hands as I bid them goodnight. I have no intention of seeing them again tonight.

  I walk over to cash out my chips, and realize I’m walking away with a little over $23,000.

  “That’s a nice take-away,” Shannon says from behind me, surprising me.

  “Yeah,” I laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Not bad.”

  “Where were you going to go?”

  “Really, I just wanted to wander around the casino a bit. I’ve been wondering what these stores are all about.”

  “Oh,” she says, “they’re great, do you want me to show you around?”

  “Sure,” I tell her. “I could probably use a woman’s opinion on a few things.”

  “I’ve got great taste,” she boasts.

  “I’m sure you do, Shannon.”

  We wander around the shops slowly, talking about her work and mine. Most of the stores are closed for the night, so we spend a lot of time looking at the window displays.

  She waves me over to her as she gazes into a jewelry store window. I look up to see it’s Tiffany’s.

  “How do you like these earrings?” she asks, pointing to silver posts with mesh and diamonds dangling from them.

  “They’re very nice.”

  “I’m thinking about getting them for the Vegas opening. For every club we open, I treat myself to something nice. I got this pendant when we opened LA,” she says, pointing to the pink stone that hangs just above her breasts. I avert my eyes quickly back to the jewelry in the bright case. “Nice, huh?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I say, nodding and running my fingers through my hair nervously. A necklace catches my eye, and I can’t look away from it, imagining it on Emi’s neck. The choker is made of a single strand of round pearls and adorned with a colorful five-petal flower. The flower has this iridescent blue and green enamel with gold details. Each petal is highlighted with a line of small diamonds. A delicate, perfect pearl sits in the middle. It’s as if it was made for Emi. I can imagine how the green would bring out the color of her eyes.

  “Hey, what do think of this?” I ask Shannon.

  “Which one, that pearl one?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s breath-taking,” she says. “I’ve priced that, and it’s way out of my budget. But I wouldn’t turn it down as a gift.” I nod thoughtfully.

  We wander through the rest of the shops, making note of things we each wanted to come back and get when the shops were open again.

  “Were you ever able to find that design book?” Shannon asks when we reach the elevators that would take me up to my suite.

  “I forgot to look,” I admit, remembering our conversation over lunch the week before. “I’m sure I brought it though, if you want to come up for a sec I’ll see if I can find it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, come on,” I tell her, holding the elevator door open. “So, I thought you and Albert were...” I start a conversation in the elevator, easing the silence. I had always assumed they had some sort of arrangement, so I was surprised when Albert showed interest in Cherry tonight, right in front of his friend and business partner.

  “No,” she laughs. “We try to keep it professional. It works most of the time. He’s a great guy, but he’s got a wandering eye. I actually expected you to be more like him, from the way your agent talked about you.”

  “I don’t get into a whole lot of personal stuff with Kate. I guess she’s drawn her own conclusions from my past. I guess historically it may have seemed like that to her since I never brought the same woman twice to any of my shows.” The elevator stops on my floor.

  “So I guess Albert is to me what Amy is to you...” she says, walking next to me to my room.

  “Emi...” I correct her. I’ve been reluctant to talk about her to my clients since it was all so new, even though the three of us had been spending a lot of time together in Vegas. I didn’t want to jinx things, and the way Emi and I left things in LA was still a little up in the air. Things seem to be moving forward on the relationship front, but until I see her again, I won’t truly know where we stand.

  Shannon cocks her head and smiles when we reach my room, not pressing any further. “I think the book’s probably in my bedroom. Just give me a minute. Sorry this place is such a wreck... when I get in the creative mode, I tend to leave shit all over the place.”

  “A true artist,” she says with understanding as I head to the closet. “You play guitar?” I hear a cacophony of notes roughly strummed on the newly-tuned strings, making me cringe not only at the sound, but at the thought of someone inexperienced handling it.

  “Yeah,” I call to her from the adjoining room. She’s silent for a minute or two, until I hear the sound of a cork popping. I stop in my tracks as I stumble upon the book I had been looking for in a box on the floor.

  “Wow, Nate. What don’t you do?” She startles me as I realize she’s now in my bedroom. I emerge from the closet to see her sitting on the bed with two glasses of champagne in her hands.

  “For starters, I don’t drink.” I smile, taking one of the glasses and setting it on the night stand. “Here’s the book.” I carry it with me to the living area, hoping she’ll follow.

  I wait for her in the next room, and she eventually joins me, again holding both glasses.

  “Sure you do. You had scotch tonight, and I remember you drinking champagne that night in LA.”

  “That was a special occasion,” I inform her. “We were celebrating the completion of the LA club, remember?”

  “Well, surely we can think of something to celebrate tonight...”

  “Shannon...”

  “Come on, Nate. You seem so stressed out. Just relax,” she coos, sitting down on the couch and holding the drink out to me. I grab it from her and move across the room. “Don’t you ever get lonely?”

  “Sure, but... I mean, no...” Flustered, I take a drink, then another, the silence in the room suffocating me. I walk into the kitchen area of the suite.

  “It’s good, isn’t it? It’s a vintage champagne... we shouldn’t let it go to waste.” I smile suspiciously at her and pour my glass of champagne into the sink.

  “Look, Shannon, at another point in my life, this may have been something I pursued, but... it’s not now.” She looks at the floor in front of her, then glances at my laptop sitting next to her on the side table. I had forgotten to shut it down before dinner.

  I had stared at the background so much over the last few weeks that it had begun to blend in with my surroundings, so I was startled when I realized Shannon was looking at the picture of Emi that she had sent me for luck.

  “Wait, is that Emi?” I quickly cross the room and close the computer. “So there is something going on between you two?”

  “Yeah, kind of. I think.”

  “That’s not very definitive.”

  “Yes, there is something going on between Emi and me.”

  “When did this happen?” Shannon asks, taking another sip of her drink before setting it on the coffee table.

  “When she came to visit in LA.”

  “I thought things were getting a little too friendly at dinner,” she admits. “I just thought you two must be friends with benefits.”

  “No,” I state. “We were never that. Always just friends.”

  “So what changed? If you don’t mind me asking...”

  “I don’t know. I got tired of hiding my feelings for her, and she realized she had feelings for me, as well, I guess.”

  “Well, don’t I feel silly?” she asks with an embarrassed laugh as she stands up.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression by inviting you here. I really just wanted to find that book for you.”

  “No, I was just jumping to my own conclusions. I have to admit, not many men have turned me d
own.”

  “Well, six months ago, I would most likely not have been one of them. But at this point, I want to do right by Emi, and I respect the professional relationship you and I have. I don’t want to screw any of that up.”

  “I can respect that,” she says with a friendly smile. “She’s a lucky woman.”

  “Trust me, I’m the lucky one in this relationship.”

  “Hmm...” she laughs softly, nodding. “I’m happy for you. Now I can see why you’ve set your deadline.”

  “Yeah, I’m anxious to get home.”

  “Well, whatever I can do to help with that, let me know.”

  “Thanks, Shannon. I really do appreciate it.” After drinking her glass of champagne, she sets her glass in the sink and takes the rest of the bottle with her.

  “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

  “Have a good night, Nate,” she says as she opens the door to leave.

  “You, too.”

  I pick up the phone as soon as Shannon leaves. It’s one-thirty in the morning here, so it’s four-thirty in New York. The time difference really gets in the way. Although I know she often stays up this late to work, I don’t want to wake her if she is sleeping.

  Alone in my hotel room, I’m reminded of another of Shakespeare’s sonnets. I know she’s not a fan, but the verse is too fitting, describes my feelings tonight perfectly. I decide to pick up my phone and email her the last two lines before my shower.

  “All days are nights to see till I see thee / And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.”

  After I take a shower, I check my messages before going to bed. There is a text from her, and I’m immediately surprised and amused at her Shakespearean response.

  “Is it thy will thy image should keep open / My heavy eyelids to the weary night? / Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken / While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?”

  “So I’m keeping you awake at night?” I respond quickly, crawling into the plush bed, throwing off all the pillows but two.