Vegas heat

by Michaels, Fern

  "Night, Billie."

  Simon stroked Daisy's head as he rocked back and forth. "I'm going to miss you, little girl. Tootsie and Slick are going to miss you, too. All your gear is packed up," he said, a catch in his voice. He stared off into space as the little dog snuggled in his arms.

  Off in the distance he heard the sound of a car. Simon's head jerked upright. His shoulders slumped when he saw the military style jeep being driven by the mailman.

  "Special Delivery, Mr. Thornton. You have to sign for it or I would have stuck it in the box at the end of the road."

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  'Thanks, Clyde," Simon said as he signed his name with a flourish.

  "Looks like another nice day. How's Mrs. Thornton?"

  1 'Fine, Clyde." Go already so I can see if this is from Fanny. Please, let it be from Fanny. Simon tortured himself for another five minutes before he looked down at the address on the heavy manila envelope. It was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Simon Thornton. The sender's name stood out starkly in heavy black lettering. THE APEX INVESTIGATIVE AGENCY.

  Simon tossed the envelope on the floor of the porch. Like he really wanted to know more about his weird family. Colemans, Thorntons, they were all the same. Finding his mother's brother Josh didn't seem important in the scheme of things. Let Fanny deal with it.

  Things seemed to be coming full circle these days. Fanny had at long last found her mother. It hadn't made her any happier. If anything, it had made her more unhappy, because she'd been denied the magical moment she'd always dreamed of. Ash and his decision to leave Las Vegas and turn over the casino to Fanny was something he had always known would happen. And now this envelope. More family. More family meant more troubles, more unhappiness.

  Simon leaned over to pick up the envelope. He put it in the dog crate. "Time to go, Daisy. Fanny's waiting for you."

  Simon loaded the kennel and a taped box full of Daisy's toys, blanket, and leashes in the back of the heavy-duty utility truck, then walked inside the house to call his wife. He wasn't surprised when the answering machine clicked on. He left his name, the flight number, and the time of Daisy's arrival. He paused a moment, wondering if he should say something else. He decided there was nothing to add and hung up the phone.

  "Let's go, Daisy."

  13

  Fanny slipped onto a thickly padded barstool in the Harem Lounge. Billie and Bess joined her five minutes later. "I won two hundred dollars," Bess said, sitting down next to Fanny.

  "And I lost fifty dollars," Billie lamented.

  "Tea, ladies?" the bartender queried. The women nodded.

  "How do your feet feel, Fanny?" Bess asked.

  "They're numb, but the lower heels help. Wow! Would you look at that? I wonder who the lucky recipient is?'' Fanny said as three uniformed young men walked past the bar carrying vases of yellow roses.

  "Somebody must have won big tonight and they're paying off their good-luck charm. Probably one of the showgirls kissed the dice or something equally stupid," Billie said.

  The women watched as the uniforms turned about and reentered the Harem Lounge. "Mrs. Thornton, these are for you," one of the young men said, setting the flowers down on the teakwood bar.

  "For me! Are you sure?"

  Billie unobtrusively looked at the watch on her wrist and gave a slight nod to Bess as Fanny removed the small card from the holder nestled in one of the arrangements.

  "Can you imagine Simon doing something so sweet? He knows I adore yellow roses. There must be six dozen of them. On the other hand, maybe they're from Ash, you know, that good-luck thing. Should we make a bet? I think they're from Simon. He left a message you know. I'm just so glad he sent Daisy. That shows he's thinking about me. Billie, who do you think sent them?"

  "Simon or the kids."

  "Bess?"

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  "I agree with Billie. Will you open the card already before we die of curiosity?"

  Fanny ripped at the card. Please let them be from Simon. Please, please, please. Fanny stared at the card. Her voice was flat when she said. "We're all wrong. The flowers are from Marcus Reed. The man who put me in the pool last night."

  "Is there a message?" Bess asked.

  "Yes. It says, 'Thank you for the most enjoyable thirty minutes of my life.'"

  Billie*s voice was almost as flat as Fanny's when she said, "Isn't this about the same time as it was last evening when you went wading?"

  Fanny looked at the clock over the bar. "I think so. What should I do with them?"

  "What do you want to do with them?" Billie asked.

  "If they were from Simon, I'd sit here and stare at them for the rest of the night. However, since they aren't from Simon I guess I'll just leave them here. The bartender can put them on the tables. They're gorgeous, aren't they?"

  "Magnificent. Costly, too. That guy must have some bucks," Bess said.

  "I'm flattered." Fanny said. "Things seem to be slowing down. Ash always said the casino's busiest time was around midnight. Do you suppose something fantastic is going on at one of the other casinos 0 "

  "You would have heard if there was. Each casino has its spies. Sometime, you just have an off night."

  "I had an idea a little while ago," Fanny whispered. "Do you remember when I gave you the tour and we opened that small empty suite next to the Spa Shop? Think about this, ladies. We decorate it to fit our theme and hire a seer. Fortuneteller, whatever you call those people. We might even be able to hire a real psychic. We'll give her a mystical-sounding name of some sort. It could be a lot of fun. Women absolutely love that kind of thing. I always read my horoscope, don't you? Tarot card readings and individual astrology charts go for hundreds of dollars. We could try to locate one of those hands-on people

  who touches something of yours, closes her eyes, and tells you about your life. It would be a tremendous draw and perfectly in keeping with the theme of Babylon. Billie, you could design us some razzle-dazzle outfits to fit the mood. What do you think?"

  ' 'Mega advertising," Bess said.' 'Reservations only, to begin with, because she's booked three months in advance which means you pay her while she does nothing until you generate enough interest. When you have to wait or can't get something, you want it all the more. It can't be shoddy. It has to be a real class act. When it comes right down to it, it is an act," Bess said.

  "I just love harem pants, veils, beads, and bangles. My mother always said I was a gypsy in my other life. I'll make you an outfit that will blow your socks off," Billie promised. There was such enthusiasm in Billie's voice, Fanny laughed.

  "We're cookin', ladies. Whoever said this was a man's business was wrong."

  "My ex-husband said that, Bess. Three more hours and we can call it a night. I want to go upstairs to check on Daisy. I'll be right back."

  Fanny's jaw dropped when she stepped from the elevator. Shoe boxes, one on top of the other, were piled every which way outside her door. She knew immediately who they were from. She struggled to count the boxes and finally gave up. She wondered what kind of taste he had and how he knew her shoe size. Charles Jourdan. He must have looked inside her shoes when he was holding them for her. Fanny opened several boxes and nodded approvingly. She couldn't accept these shoes. The question was, where and how was she to return them?

  Daisy ran to meet her the moment she opened the door. She fondled the little dog as she pressed the play button to hear her messages. Her eyebrows shot upward when she heard Marcus Reed's voice. There was no hi, no hello, no this is Marcus Reed. "I'm just calling to tell you my sister tells me, and she claims to know everything, that if you soak your feet in Epsom salts and liquid peppermint, your feet will heal and feel wonder-

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  fill. Both ingredients can be purchased at any drugstore. I'd like us to have dinner the next time I'm in Las Vegas. Lunch is good and so is breakfast if your schedule is tight. Good night, Fanny Thornton."

  Fanny sat down with a thump, Daisy cradled in her
arms. "Didn't he see my wedding ring? He didn't seem like the kind of man who would hit on a married woman. I did notice that he wasn't wearing a ring. Women notice things like that, Daisy. What am I going to do with those shoes? The flowers were a nice gesture. The shoes are something else." Daisy yawned. ' 'Guess I woke you, huh? I'll take you for a long walk tomorrow and find some grass for you. It's a different kind of life here."

  Fanny stared at the answering machine. She could call Simon and thank him for sending Daisy. She placed the call and held her breath while she waited for Simon to pick up the phone. "Simon, it's Fanny. Thanks for sending Daisy. I just came upstairs to check on her. It's late, I thought you might be sleeping."

  "No. I was sitting on the front porch. I saw the paper today, Fanny."

  Fanny sucked in her breath. She hadn't imagined that she would make news in a small California paper. ' Tt was one of those things that just happened. My feet were burning and I could feel a corn starting to form on my little toe."

  "You looked like you were having a good time. Who was the man?"

  "Somebody in the casino. He left right afterward. I heard him say he had to catch a plane."

  "I guess you're starting to like the bright lights and the noise."

  "No. I came up with an idea tonight, though." She told him about her plans for the empty suite next to the Spa Shop. When Simon made no comment, Fanny babbled on, not wanting to hang up. "Billie is here for a month and so is Bess. Billie has agreed to decorate Ash's apartment so I feel comfortable living

  here. Simon, can you see your way clear to coming here for a long weekend?"

  "I can't, Fanny. I'll say good night now."

  "Good night," Fanny whispered to the dial tone ringing in her ears. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Fanny returned to the casino floor in time to hear excited squeals, ringing bells, and shrill whistles. Bess motioned to her. "A grandmother from Edison, New Jersey, just won the hundred-thousand-dollar jackpot on the dollar machine. Here comes the photographer and the floor manager with the IRS forms. Remember how excited we were the night Sallie let us each win a thousand dollars?"

  "I remember. I called Simon and he saw today's paper. He cut me off and said good-night. There was a message on the machine from Mr. Reed and fifty boxes of shoes outside my door."

  "Oh my God!"

  "That's pretty much what I said myself. I can't even return the shoes because I don't know where Mr. Reed lives."

  Fanny hugged the grandmother and posed for a photograph before she handed over the check to the speechless blond-haired lady. "If you don't mind me asking, Mrs. O'Leary, what do you plan to do with your winnings? Readers always want to know things like that."

  "Call me Tootsie, Mrs. Thornton. Help my children, save some, maybe Daniel and I will take a vacation. I might buy a new lawn mower for Danny."

  "What will you get for yourself?"

  "I might buy some books. I love to read. I can't believe this. I've been here a whole week and haven't won a thing. My daughter Mary is going to be so surprised."

  "Enjoy it, Tootsie. And come back and see us again."

  "I will. I absolutely will, and if you ever come to Edison, New Jersey, stop and see us. We're in the phone book."

  "I'll be sure to do that."

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  Fanny turned to Billie. *'I think we can call it a night."* "And not a minute too soon." Bess said.

  Fanny yawned, her eyes on the calendar. She'd give anything for twelve uninterrupted hours of sleep. Working the floor at night, sleeping for three or four hours in the early dawn, then working in the office for another four or five hours, snatching a catnap when she could, didn't make for an alert individual.

  "A penny for your thoughts. Fanny." Bess said. "'If it's any consolation to you, I feel as tired as you look."

  '"I forget what fresh air is. We've been here four months. Bess. Billie"s been gone a month and Thanksgiving is only four days away."

  "We've made progress though.'" Bess said. '"We've managed to weed out all the deadbeats Ash had on his payroll, we've hired new people, we stopped the skimming, changed suppliers who were giving the deadbeats kickbacks. On top of all that we work the floor at night and Madam Sarika has turned into a class act. If you really want to take a bow. you're entitled. The Foundation is up and running. Billie's made her family's contribution and Madam Sarika's money is flowing into the account. W T e done real good. Mrs. Thornton.'"

  "'I haven't heard from Simon. Ash never calls. I was hoping Sunny would invite me for Thanksgiving. I hoped against hope that Simon would do the same thing. I called Sage this morning and he let it slip that he. Iris, and Billie are going to Sunrise. They were invited. Do you have any idea how terrible I feel. Bess?'

  "Have you called Sunrise 0 "

  "Of course. Several times a week. Sunny says hello, says she's tine, says the children are fine, her dad is fine, then she hands the phone to Ash. who basically tells me to stop calling because things are under control. He doesn't want to hear one word about this casino. My daughter and my ex-husband are living in their own world, and it does not include me. Now. what would you do if you were me?"

  "I'd stop calling. Fanny, you're killing yourself and for what? You don't have to prove anything to anyone. You can't be all things to all people. My daughter is cooking Thanksgiving dinner and we'd love to have you join us. I know Billie invited you to Washington. That's two offers."

  "I appreciate it, Bess. I'm still hoping Simon will call."

  "Fanny, it's been four months. It's time to get your ducks in a row. Stop calling him and leaving messages on his machine. You must have left five hundred by now, and not one was returned. What does that tell you?"

  "Hope springs eternal. Maybe I'll drive to the ranch over Thanksgiving. I could cook a turkey, fix all the trimmings, and..."

  "And if he isn't there?"

  "I'll call and leave a message first. If Simon doesn't want me to make the trip, he'll call back and tell me. This silence is so unlike Simon. He's carrying this beyond stubborn. What he's doing is punishing me. He's done it before when I did something he considered stepping out of line."

  "I would have blown up three months ago. Men do not have an understanding bone in their bodies. When John starts to act like that I put him in his place right away. He usually thanks me, saying he didn't think of it that way, whatever that way is. It works for us."

  "Simon has a point."

  "Which is?" Bess said.

  "Those first few weeks when we did speak, he didn't understand how I could be doing something like this for my family when that same family turned their backs on me. I ask myself the same question every day. He doesn't understand that I have to earn back Sunny's respect and love."

  "Excuse my language, Fanny, but that's bullshit."

  "No, it isn't. I wasn't there for her. She doesn't want me anywhere near her or her children. I haven't told anyone in the family about the medical rehab center we're going to build. They aren't interested in anything I do. They'll view it as a ploy to get back into their lives."

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  "Oh, Fanny, you don't know that."

  "Yes, Bess, I do know that. I'm okay with it. Each day it gets a little easier. The anger is starting to dissipate. Simon is a different story. I could make a life for us here if he would agree. I'm more than willing to give us another chance. Why is it women bend where men are concerned and men trench in?"

  "It's the way it is. I hope you weren't expecting magical insight."

  Fanny's voice was weary yet stubborn. "If Simon truly loved me, we could work something out. He's unwilling even to talk to me. That, Bess, tells me more than I want to know."

  "Time will take care of everything. One day at a time. Look on the bright side, Fanny. Every day you get a dozen yellow roses. Four months is a long time for a person to send roses to someone he only met for thirty minutes. It's so mysterious."

  "There's nothing mysterious about it at all. Mr. Ree
d left a standing order at the florist. He probably forgot all about me. As you said, four months is a long time."

  "What did you do with the shoes?"

  Fanny snorted. "I've been wearing them." Bess laughed.

  "It's kind of quiet this afternoon. Go upstairs, get Daisy, and we'll go for a long walk. We'll get an ice cream on the way back. Both of us need some fresh air."

  "That sounds like a marvelous idea. I'll meet you by the service elevator."

  Fanny took a moment to savor what Bess called her "new digs." With Daisy in her arms, she walked around the spacious, newly decorated apartment. The chrome, glass, mirrors, marble, and leather furniture were all gone. In their place were cream-colored walls, ankle-hugging wheat-colored carpeting, matching draperies, and soft lighting. Low, deep, comfortable sofas in various shades of brown and beige with matching chairs welcomed her. Green plants dotted the corners next to well-stocked bookshelves. The cream-colored walls hosted vibrant watercolors signed by local artists. The electric fireplace was smoky black flanked by two enormous red chairs—duplicates

  of the chairs in her old studio at Sunrise. "My personal gift to you," Billie had said.' 'One for you, one for Daisy." A luscious jade plant and small Tiffany lamp sat in the middle of the table that separated the two chairs. All the comforts of home. "It's gender neutral," Billie had said. What that meant to Fanny was if Simon ever changed his mind, he wouldn't object to the decor. Her bedroom and the guest rooms were in various shades of green and beige.

  The kitchen that had once been sterile white with touches of black was now homey and fragrant. The new appliances were almond-colored. The glass-and-chrome table and chairs had been replaced with antique oak, the chairs covered with red-and-white-checkered cushions. The pristine white cabinets had been resurfaced and now sported a rich oak veneer. Green plants in apple red crockery stood on the counter and in the center of the oak table. Braided, colorful rugs replaced the cold black-and-white marble floor. A small metal dish with orange peels and cinnamon sticks warmed over the pilot light, sending off a delicious aroma. The kitchen always smelled like she'd just baked an apple pie.