Shattered Dreams (Vegas Dreams Book 2)

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  “Oh, come on,” Rae replied. “Don’t you think that’s a little—”

  “True?”

  “Okay, so maybe I left out a minor detail or two. You know I would never do anything I didn’t think was best for you, right?”

  “How is lying what’s best for me?”

  “I didn’t think you’d go to Gideon’s house if I told you he asked to see you alone.”

  I turned. “He did?”

  She nodded.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Oh, don’t play innocent with me. You know why. He likes you.” She patted me on the shoulder. “And you like him.”

  “I don’t like him. He’s my lawyer. We’re not even friends.”

  “If what you’re alleging is true, then why have you worked his name into every conversation we’ve had over the last month?”

  I could deny it, come up with some excuse, say I only talked about him to update her on what he was doing for me as a client. It wouldn’t work. She could always tell when I was bluffing.

  “Are you trying to say putting the two of you together tonight was a bad thing?” she asked.

  My head throbbed, and all I could think about was crawling into bed, alone, for the umpteenth time. “Seeing Gideon tonight didn’t go the way you might think it went. It was a disaster.”

  “So he didn’t try anything?”

  She swiped her thumb across my cheek.

  I jerked back. “What are you doing?”

  “You have lipstick on your face in a place lipstick doesn’t belong. Wanna tell me how it got there?”

  I shrugged. “No idea.”

  “What was it you were saying?” she joked. “Oh, right. How bad was it again?”

  “His ex-wife showed up in the middle of, umm ... us talking.”

  She frowned. “Ooh, sorry. She wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow.”

  “Does everyone know what’s going on but me?”

  “Relax. The ex-wife is harmless. Crazy, but harmless.”

  “Why are you assuring me? She had every right to be there. It’s her house too—for now. Why would you set me up with him without talking to me about it first?”

  “There are dozens of girls chomping at his lustrous bit, Sasha, and he likes you, which proves he has good taste. Why not give him a chance?”

  “I can give you twenty to twenty-five good reasons why.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t follow.”

  “According to the ex, Gideon has a revolving door, one girl goes out, another one comes in.”

  “Did you ask him if that’s true?”

  “Why should I? He didn’t deny it.”

  “So, your one-night stands are allowed and his aren’t?”

  “It’s different.”

  “How?”

  “Twenty-five?”

  “It hasn’t been twenty-five. It hasn’t even been five, from what I know. I’ve only seen him out with two women since I met Richard. One woman lasted one date, and the other maybe three dates. Otherwise, he’s flown solo. You ask me, Gideon’s a good match for you.”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “Because I’ve known you since we were kids. He kissed you. Did you feel anything for him when he did?”

  I didn’t feel anything, I felt everything. Hot. It didn’t matter though. I had to erase it, omit it from my mind like it never happened. It wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t happen again.

  “I never said we kissed.”

  “You didn’t have to, sweetie. Between the pink stain on your cheek and the, uhh, whatever that bright red mark is on your neck, it’s easy to connect the dots.”

  “What? Where?”

  I brushed a finger up and down the side of my neck. Over the last hour, I’d felt a tingling sensation, like the side of my neck had been pricked with needles. Damn him and his five o’clock shadow. I grabbed the glass in front of me, downed one-third of it, and set the ice-filled glass back on the counter, minus one cube, which I pressed to my neck. I jiggled the glass until the bartender raised a brow, looked my direction.

  “Would you like another?” he asked.

  I nodded, and he took the glass. “Easy on the ice this time, okay? If all I wanted was a glass of ice, I could get it from my house for free. Big drink, big tip. Little drink, no tip. Understand?”

  “Don’t be mad at me, okay?” Rae said. “I thought a lot about Gideon’s request before I went along with it. I think you’re ready. Not for a commitment, but ready to date, even if it’s a little at a time.”

  She continued talking for a while, and by the time she finished giving me an infused boost of hyper-confidence, I was on my third drink of the night, each one making me feel just a little bit better about myself than the last. I thought about taking a taxi back to Gideon’s house, letting him finish what he started, but I hadn’t had enough liquid courage—not yet.

  “Hey,” Rae shook my arm. “Are you listening? Your eyes are glazed over. Am I talking to myself here? Because if I am, I’ll stop.”

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you before.”

  “Don’t be. I may have even deserved it.”

  “All those one-night flings I had. Even though I knew it wasn’t right, it also wasn’t hard. Meet a guy one night, have a little fun, he goes his way, I go mine. Gideon is different. I can’t do that with him.”

  “Of course he’s different. You like him. Deny it all you want, but if you want to know why you feel this way, that’s why.”

  “Why did he get divorced?”

  “You met the Queen of Crazy in the flesh, and you still have to ask?”

  I nodded.

  “About five years ago, Mandi was a pretty big deal around here in her own right,” Rae said. “She was a party planner, mainly booked bachelor and bachelorette pre-wedding gigs. They paid her top dollar, and she got them into exclusive clubs and parties. She made a pile of cash and a lot of new friends. The problem was the friends she made were the worst kind of friends you could have.”

  “Meaning?”

  “They used her. Got her addicted to heroin. Gideon caught her in the bathroom one night shooting up. She’d been hiding it, stashing the syringe in her makeup case. The more she used, the more she needed it, until she didn’t care about keeping it secret anymore.”

  “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for him,” I said.

  “He was devastated. They’d been trying to have a baby. Well, he thought they were trying to have a baby. She confessed she’d been on the pill the entire time. He asked her to quit the drugs, she said no, and he told her she had to choose—the drugs or the marriage.”

  “And she picked the drugs.”

  Rae nodded.

  “Even after he filed for divorce, he didn’t give up on her. The marriage was over, but he still felt an obligation to get Mandi healthy again. He convinced her to check into a private rehab facility twice. She never made it past the first week. The withdrawals, the fever, chills—she couldn’t kick the habit. She’d check herself out, phone a friend, and return to the lifestyle. He finally realized he couldn’t help her unless she helped herself. She needed to want to get better, and she didn’t.”

  “Is she clean now?”

  “Sometimes she is, sometimes she isn’t.”

  “I take it she doesn’t live around here anymore?” I asked.

  “Nope. When the drugs took over, her career took the kind of dive a person can’t come back from. She made mistakes—too many of them. Booked the wrong party, the wrong night, at the wrong venue. Pissed off the kind of people in this town you don’t want to piss off.”

  “Do you think he still wants kids?”

  A wide grin crossed Rae’s face. “You mean the already-made kind? I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?”

  Across the room, Callie and Kenna shimmied their way over to the bar.

  “You two gonna sit there and talk all night or are you going to get your butts out on the dance floor?” Kenna asked.
“This is supposed to be girls’ night. As in, all of us girls, together.”

  “Yeah,” Callie added, hands on hips. “Come on.”

  Rapture was thumping, packed with clubbers, most shaking what their mothers gave them on the dance floor. I couldn’t move more than an inch or two without grinding into someone next to me, but it didn’t matter. Even in tight quarters, even surrounded by sweaty bodies dowsed in perfume and body spray, it felt good to be there, and I felt alive.

  Callie and Kenna were each other’s “safe” dates, which meant since both of them were married, they watched each other’s back. Rae was also in a serious relationship of her own. She did what she pleased, and Richard gave her all the space she needed. That left me—single and no longer interested in a one-night mingle.

  A blond, spiked-haired, short stack around five foot nothing strutted around us on the dance floor like a rooster on steroids. Our eyes met, a sheer accident on my part, and he homed in. He outstretched both hands toward me, pulling back on the air like he was reeling me in with an invisible rope.

  I elbowed Rae, who turned and laughed when she caught an eyeful of him. “Aww, he’s so cute. And so tiny. It’s like you could fold him up and stick him in your pocket.”

  “Just get me away from him please.”

  She took my hand and tilted her head toward Kenna and Callie. It was a move all too familiar with any girl squad, and it didn’t require words. Several seconds later, we all found our groove again on the opposite side of the dance floor. Problem solved, or at least I thought it was, until I caught him making a beeline for me.

  “It’s your dress,” Kenna joked. “Can you blame him? Almost every guy in this place has had their eyes glued to your backside all night.”

  I groaned. “Just my luck. The one person I don’t want to dance with is the only one brave enough to ask me to—”

  A sharp feeling on my lower backside stopped me midsentence, a feeling every girl despised—the unsanctioned ass grab.

  I whipped around, faced Short Stack.

  “Hey baby,” he slurred. “What’s yer name?”

  Eww.

  “Hey, buddy,” Rae thumbed in the opposite direction. “She’s not interested. Move along.”

  He pointed at Rae. “Wasn’t talking to you, sweet thang, but no worries; there’s plenty of Stevie D to go around.”

  Double eww.

  As if the single butt squeeze wasn’t enough, Short Stack followed it up with a double ass-smack I was sure left red marks on the flesh beneath my dress. It was then he realized there was nothing whatsoever between me and my ... well, nothing.

  He leaned over to me, his rancid breath steaming my ear. “Wanna get out of here, baby?”

  “I don’t. And if you touch me one more—”

  “Come on, gurlll. Stevie D knows what you like. Trust me. You’re in for a good time. I’ll shake your tree all night.”

  A large, manly man came out of nowhere, reaching in front of me, and launching Stevie D about five feet into the crowd. I turned, staring into Gideon’s sapphire sparklers for the second time tonight.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Looking for you,” he replied. “Can we talk?”

  Before I could reply, Short Stack returned for thirds, except this time, he was no longer the jovial kid who’d groped me moments before, and he was no longer alone. A second Short Stack joined him, both amped up, ready for a fight.

  Short Stack One, who’d started all the trouble, spoke first. “Hey man, you shouldn’a dun that.”

  “Yeah,” Short Stack Two added. “We’s gonna hafta jack you up now, know what I’m sayin’?”

  A man who’d been hiding in a booth across the room stood, looked Gideon in the eye. The man was dressed in all black, which made me wonder if he was one of the club’s bouncers. He didn’t look like a bouncer though. He looked familiar, like I’d seen him somewhere before. He worked his way through the crowd, his eyes never leaving Gideon.

  While this was happening, Short Stack One continued. “You hear what I’m sayin’ to you, man? Outside. Let’s go.”

  “I’ll give you boys one chance to walk away.” Gideon held up a single digit. “One.”

  “That s’posed to be some kinda joke, man?” Short Stack Two asked. “We said outside.”

  The man from across the room, now standing next to Gideon, spoke. “No, I said outside.”

  In unison, both Short Stacks’ jaws dropped, seeming to recognize the man standing before them.

  “Terrence Knight?” Short Stack One said. “I can’t believe it. I flippin’ love you, man! I’ve seen, like, every movie you’ve ever made.”

  Terrence looked at Gideon, placed a hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “Something going on here?”

  “These boys have been harassing the ladies,” Gideon replied.

  “What?” Short Stack One said. “It ain’t like that. Naw. We ain’t done nothin’ wrong, just havin’ a little fun is all.”

  “Both of you, get out,” Terrence replied.

  “Say what?” Short Stack One said.

  “This is my club, and I just asked you boys to leave.”

  Both Short Stacks stood there in dumbfounded awe, like they didn’t believe him.

  Gideon looked at Terrence. “What do you say we take them outside and teach them both a lesson?”

  “Oh, come on man,” Short Stack One said. “We were just messin’ around. We didn’t mean anything.”

  “Apologize to the ladies,” Gideon said. “Now.”

  A half-hearted apology was offered, one which Terrence and Gideon both rejected. The Short Stacks tried again. The second time around, both boys mustered up all the sincerity they had in them. Apology delivered, they were ushered from the club, and banned from ever returning again.

  It turned out Terrence Knight was also one of Gideon’s clients. And to make up for the mistreatment I’d received, we were all given unlimited rounds on the house. Unfortunately, it was late. Rae, Kenna, and Callie decided they’d seen enough action and called it a night.

  “Sorry to steal her from you,” Rae said. “But it’s time for this one to go home too.”

  “I don’t mind giving her a ride,” Gideon said.

  They turned to me for a final verdict, but I’d only been half listening. “Go ahead. He can take me home.”

  “Are you sure?” Rae asked.

  “Yes, go. I’m fine.”

  Rae whispered something into Gideon’s ear, then requested an Uber, leaving the two of us to cap off the night alone. I had one more drink, a concoction Terrence had suggested, then reclined back on one of the clubs sofas in a private back room. I looked at Gideon. “You talking to me or what? Let’s do this.”

  I squeezed my eyes open and shut, realizing the room had started spinning.

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yep,” I said. “Yes I am, and I’m ready to talk. Ready Freddie.”

  He slung an arm around my shoulders. “How many drinks have you had tonight?”

  I uttered the word “five,” but realized I was only holding up three fingers. Perhaps it wasn’t such a great time for a conversation, not the one I imagined he wanted to have anyway.

  “Why don’t I take you home?” he suggested.

  “I don’t want to go home yet.”

  “What would you like to do then?”

  I pressed a finger into his chest. “You. I want to go to your house.”

  “How about I take you home, and you can come to my house tomorrow?”

  “Not tomorrow,” I said. “Tonight.”

  “This isn’t your house,” I blurted.

  The house I found myself in wasn’t a house at all—it was a condo.

  “Remember earlier when I told you I was staying at a place by my office?” Gideon spread his hands. “This is it.”

  I didn’t remember. I nodded anyway.

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asked.

  “What are my options?�
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  “Water.”

  I laughed. Was he kidding?

  He frowned. He wasn’t.

  “Why would I want water?”

  “You’ll thank me in the morning,” he said.

  “I’ll thank you now.”

  I couldn’t look at him without remembering how good it had felt to be in his arms earlier, his hands just starting to explore before we were interrupted. I unzipped the side of my dress, watched it slink to the ground. I kicked it to the side and tiptoed over to him.

  “Why don’t you finish what you started earlier?” I teased.

  I grabbed for his shirt, but it slipped through my fingers, like it had been coated in butter.

  Gideon stepped back. “Sasha, hang on a minute. Okay?”

  What was he doing?

  Didn’t he want this?

  No, no, no. I’m being rejected. I’m ACTUALLY being rejected.

  “I thought you wanted this,” I said.

  “You’re all I want, all I think about, ever since the first day we met at the hospital.”

  “I don’t get it then. What’s the problem?”

  His eyes shifted downward, but he wasn’t focused on my chest. He was looking at my wounds, the scars that remained from Damon’s knife. He’d seen the photos used in court, but this was the first time he’d seen them in the flesh. Seeing them in real life probably made a difference. I felt embarrassed, like a dented car no one wanted when they could buy an undamaged one instead.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted.

  “No, Sasha. You have nothing to be sorry for, and you don’t ever need to apologize to me.”

  Too late.

  I pressed the tips of my fingers onto the side of my face, wished my dress was still covering my body. “My head is throbbing. I don’t feel so good.”

  A glass of water appeared in his hand like he’d pulled it out of thin air. He set it down on the dresser behind him. He reached into a dresser drawer, removed a shirt, bunched it up, and slipped it over my head. “Here, put this on.”

  I was too tired to argue. He handed me a white pill. I didn’t bother asking what it was—I took it, swallowed several gulps of water, and resisted the urge to throw up. My feet were dangling in the air, and it occurred to me I was no longer standing on the ground. Gideon was carrying me in his arms. It was the first time any man had ever carried me that way. Damon had never bothered to do anything that made me feel special.