What Happens in Vegas...

by Kimberly Lang

  And then there was shaking of hands and patting of shoulders, and she and Nick were back in the car, headed home in silence.

  Home. Where was that now? Nick’s house? Not really; she was merely a guest there, just a step above an incubator for the baby. But home wasn’t Dallas, either. She wasn’t the same person she was even a couple of months ago, so she couldn’t just go back and pick up her life where she’d left off. Her focus, her center, had shifted so dramatically recently, but that focus was gone now, and she was more than a little lost.

  “How are you feeling?” Nick asked, breaking the quiet and causing her to jump.

  What wasn’t she feeling? Everything was all tied together, though, confusing her. “Tired.”

  He nodded. “Then you rest, and I’ll go get your meds and something to eat.”

  He looked just as tired as she felt; there were shadows under his eyes, and she wondered if he’d slept at all in that plastic hospital chair. She’d had drugs—drugs that allowed her to sleep and escape the knowledge of what was happening for a little while.

  There was something she should say—a lot she could say—but the words were trapped in her throat behind that backlog of conflicting emotions. “Thanks.”

  Nick followed her into the house “to help her get settled”—the word still grated across her nerves, but in a whole new way now—and she searched for words.

  He stopped at the bedroom door, not following her in as she sat on the bed and toed off her shoes. She noticed the sheets were still tangled from last night’s activities and askew from their hurried exit. She wanted to crawl under them and cry herself to sleep at the same time she didn’t want to be there at all. As Nick turned around, she finally decided what she wanted to say. “I’m sorry.”

  His response was quick, but his voice was tired. “You heard the doctor—it wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I can still be sorry.” For a lot of things.

  “Me, too.” He was quiet for a moment, but he didn’t meet her eyes. “But the doctor did say you would be able to have other children.”

  You. Not we. What had she expected? She lay down, the weight of everything just too much to bear any longer. “Yeah. He did say that. Maybe one day.”

  Nick looked in her direction—but not at her—a moment longer, the muscle in his jaw working, before he nodded. “Yeah. One day. I’ll, um…I’ll go get your meds.”

  He closed the door behind him as he left, and Evie burst into tears. Burying her head in the pillow that smelled like Nick only made her cry harder. She heard the crash, but couldn’t bring herself to care enough to investigate.

  She hadn’t meant to get pregnant, but she did. And now she wasn’t. She should feel relieved, but she didn’t. Smelling his pillow made her think how happy she and Nick had been just hours ago, but she knew now that had been false. Just like their marriage license, it had been window dressing for the sake of the baby.

  A baby she didn’t have now.

  She wrapped her arms around her stomach, berating herself for grieving so hard for something she’d barely had to begin with. But she couldn’t help it. The baby hadn’t been far from her thoughts simply because of the situation, but she hadn’t realized that emotionally, at an elemental level, she’d connected to the baby and the idea of being a mother. Her rational brain hadn’t really been focusing on that, but obviously something in her had. And now it hurt. Badly.

  Following hard on that hurt—as if it wasn’t enough or something—was the pain of knowing she’d lost everything. Her whole life—the new one she’d been working so hard to build—was crashing down around her. And she had no one to turn to.

  She wanted Nick, but that wasn’t what their relationship was about. How many times had he spelled that out to her? She’d just lost what their relationship was about, and Nick had just beaten a hasty path to the door. But that didn’t seem to stop her from wanting him to be here with her now. She needed that. She needed him to talk to her, to tease her, to make her mad. Something. Anything.

  Because otherwise, she had nothing.

  In the car, Nick examined the blood on his knuckle. He didn’t feel any better, and now he’d have to explain the hole in the drywall to Evie.

  Provided she ever spoke to him again.

  He’d never been so scared in his entire life. He’d known the baby was gone long before the doctors in the E.R. made their official pronouncements, but that pain had been held at bay as his real fear had centered on Evie.

  She’d been whiter than the sheet on her hospital bed, but the blood…He hadn’t expected that much blood. For a few minutes there at the beginning, he’d been sure she was going to die, but then her pain meds finally kicked in. It had been the longest time of his life.

  But the worst had been—still was, actually—the hollow look in Evie’s eyes that seemed as if she’d checked out mentally from the whole situation. He hadn’t known what to say, and for the first time ever, Evie hadn’t been very talkative. She hadn’t needed him, and he hadn’t been able to tell her…Well, anything.

  So they’d sat there in silence. That silence had finally driven him to punching holes in the drywall in frustration and grief. The grief—he hadn’t been prepared for that feeling.

  This was his fault. No pregnant woman should have to deal with the level of stress he’d been putting on Evie. And he should have been more careful in general—Evie had said her research had said sex was perfectly safe, but hours of it? In multiple positions even the Kama Sutra didn’t know? Had he once checked to make sure she was eating right? Resting enough?

  At times, he’d almost forgotten the only reason she was even there was because of the baby. He’d gotten used to having her around, started looking forward to coming home to her, and he’d forgotten this was a business arrangement.

  And now their business was concluded. Once she recuperated from this, she’d want to go back to Dallas. Back to her life. What had she said last night—dear God, had it only been last night?—about Farrahlee wanting her identity back? Evie probably wanted hers back.

  And while he could continue to hate his mother for her selfishness, he didn’t blame Evie one bit. This situation was different, and it was only right for him to encourage Evie to do what she wanted. He owed her that much.

  To prove it to her, he’d start by giving back some of the things she’d given up. Mikato’s Sushi Bar was just a few more blocks. He’d get her sushi for lunch. And some regular coffee.

  It was the least he could do. He didn’t want to, but he owed her that much.

  Chapter Twelve

  THREE WEEKS. TWENTY-FOUR DAYS, if she wanted to be exact, since she’d given up hope, swept up the pieces of her heart and come home.

  Evie lay on her couch and watched the ceiling fan turn, bored by the blur of the blades, but unwilling to find anything else to do. That would require energy, and it took all the energy she had just to get through each day, so she didn’t have any to spare.

  Physically, she was fine. Fully healed. Back to normal. No sign she’d ever been pregnant at all. And since she was fully caffeinated again these days, she had no reason to be so lethargic.

  Mentally, she was a mess. Emotionally, she was a disaster area worthy of federal funding. She got up every day and put on a happy face, but she was simply going through the motions. “Evie Harrison” felt like a costume—an ill-fitting costume, at that—but the show had to go on. She didn’t even feel as if it was her life anymore; instead, she felt as if she was the understudy, stepping in to fill a role that really didn’t belong to her.

  And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to star in that show again, anyway.

  She was safely back in the bosom of her family and friends and she didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be in Vegas.

  She wanted to be with Nick.

  It had taken her a long time to admit that, because it was more pathetic than she could stand. In the days right after her miscarriage, Nick had be
en supportive and helpful, yet distant. He’d moved into the guest room without a word, and they became nothing more than polite roommates overnight. Then he’d started talking about Dallas as if it was the best place on earth, and she’d expected him to slap a plane ticket on the table at any moment.

  As if it wasn’t enough she lost the baby. She had to lose Nick, as well.

  The double whammy on her heart had been more than she could take. She was trying to process and heal from two different, yet related, events. She could separate them in her mind to cope, and while she was starting to come to terms with the loss of the baby, the loss of Nick weighed her down like a sack of rocks.

  After only a week, she couldn’t take it any longer and she’d called HarCorp’s pilot to come get her. Gwen arrived with the plane, and Evie had cried on her shoulder all the way home to Dallas. Though she never mentioned her pregnancy or her miscarriage, something in Gwen’s eyes told her Gwen knew a lot more than she was letting on.

  That was twenty-four days ago, and while she wasn’t getting worse, she wasn’t getting better, either. It seemed as if everything inside her had just shut down. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—cry anymore, but she wasn’t bouncing back, either. Other than the constant pain in her soul, she felt…nothing. Bennie was threatening to send her to a therapist if she didn’t “perk up” soon, but Evie didn’t want to perk up. She wanted Nick, and since she couldn’t have Nick, she wanted to wallow in the pain for a while longer.

  That would teach her to fall in love with someone who didn’t even like her, much less love her. The more painful the lesson was, the less likely she was to forget it.

  And this hurt so bad…

  The phone rang, and she wanted to ignore it, but she couldn’t. The show must go on.

  It was the doorman downstairs. “Mrs. Rocco…”

  That was another knife in the chest. She wouldn’t be Mrs. Rocco for much longer. And when that happened…she just prayed the numbness would continue so she wouldn’t care what Lifestyles had to say about it.

  “Yes, Howard?”

  “Your brother is on his way up.”

  Great. Just what she did not need. “Thanks for the warning.”

  She swung her feet to the floor. The door was unlocked, but she couldn’t be wallowing on the couch when Will arrived. She might as well make coffee.

  A minute later, she heard the door open and Will was calling her name as he entered.

  Evie forced herself to smile as she kissed his cheek. “Hey, Will, what brings you by?”

  “I figured we should talk.”

  Ugh. That’s never good. Play ignorant. “Okay. About what? Want some coffee?”

  He shook his head at the offer and pinned her with a stare instead. “You haven’t come back to work.”

  The truth would serve her well here, but it still needed to sound nonchalant. She shrugged. “Well, I think it’s time I got a job on my own. Get out from under my brother’s shadow for a while.”

  Will continued to stare at her. It made her a little nervous.

  “And Kelley is doing such a great job—much better than I ever did—and it didn’t seem right to give her a promotion and then take it away so quickly…” Still nothing from Will. “What?”

  “Jackson tells me he’s helping you file for a divorce.”

  “Remind me to talk to Jackson about what client confidentiality means,” she muttered. “Yes, he is. I assumed you’d figured that out anyway when I moved back here. You were right. It was a stupid, impulsive thing to do.” And she was paying for it. Dearly.

  “But understandable under the circumstances,” he said quietly.

  Did Will…She searched his face carefully. Damn it, he did. “How’d you find out?”

  A crease, so reminiscent of Nick’s it cracked her heart, formed on his brow as he scowled. “I’m not stupid, Evie.”

  “Gwen told you, huh?”

  Will didn’t answer that. “You should have told me, Squirt.”

  The nickname brought tears to her eyes. “I thought y’all would be disappointed in me. Upset that I was about to embarrass the family again and give the gossips more to talk about.”

  “You worry too much about what other people think. I’m your brother, remember?” His voice softened a little. “And how are you feeling? Better?”

  “I’m fine.” She settled for a half-truth. “Early miscarriages don’t have a lot of lingering effects.”

  He frowned again. “So why are you hiding in your apartment? You’re practically a recluse.”

  Argh. “If you want me to present the checks and cut the ribbons for HarCorp again, I will. Just not yet, okay?”

  Will lifted an eyebrow at her. “Evangeline…”

  She held up a hand in weak protest. “Not now, Will. I don’t want to fight with you.”

  The exasperation left his voice, and concern took its place. “Now I know something’s very wrong with you. You’ve never backed down from anything in your life. Much less me.”

  “What?”

  “Something’s got you whipped.”

  How dare he…“I just had a miscarriage. I think I’m allowed to be whipped for a little while.”

  “No, I don’t think that’s it.”

  Anger prickled along her neck, causing her jaw to tighten. “How would you know anything? I didn’t want to get pregnant, but I did. And I didn’t know how much I wanted the baby until I lost it.” Her voice cracked a little at the end. I will not cry.

  Will crossed his arms over his chest and tried to stare her down. It was so irritating when he did that. “Then why aren’t you in Las Vegas trying to have another one?”

  A red haze clouded her vision, and blood pumped to her extremities. “You want to fight? Fine. Bite me, William.”

  He didn’t bite back. Instead he mocked her. “Or did you find out that Nick was a loser after all and now you’re ashamed of the whole—”

  Son of a—Her hand curled into a fist, her nails digging painfully into her palm, and she had to consciously release her fingers. “That’s it,” she snapped, her voice rising to a near shout. “How dare you come into my home and pass judgment on anything, much less my husband? You don’t know squat about Nick or where he came from, or anything about us or our marriage, so just shut your mouth, you…” She trailed off as Will started to laugh. “What is so damn funny?”

  Will’s voice was warm as he reached out to touch her face. “There you are. I was afraid this guy really had damaged you in some way.”

  “So you picked a fight on purpose?” Will merely shrugged. “You like to live dangerously, don’t you? No wonder Nick thinks my family is crazy.” She flopped on the couch and rubbed her eyes. Will’s plan had been dangerous, but it did shake her out of her funk and make her feel something beyond the pain and self-pity. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing; too many emotions kept at bay for too long were now crowding in on her.

  “We’ve been worried about you.”

  “We?”

  “Gwen. Me.” He sat next to her. “Gwen’s been after me for a week now to go to Vegas and beat some sense into Nick—”

  Add flabbergasted to that list of emotions. “Gwen? Gwen is on the warpath? Promoting violence?”

  Very serious now, Will nodded. “And I was going to be next on her list if I didn’t go rip Nick a new one.”

  Didn’t she have a fifty on Nick in that fight? A hysterical giggle bubbled in her throat and she choked on it. “Will, no. Don’t.”

  “I tried to remind her you were a Harrison and no one needed to fight your battles for you. Not even your big brother. I figured if you really wanted him, you’d go get him yourself. You didn’t, though, and now that Jackson is serving papers on your behalf, I figured you didn’t want him. But then you kept moping…”

  “I’m not moping.” Will snorted, and she rushed ahead. “I’m wallowing. There’s a difference. Moping would involve ice cream.”

  “So you’re ‘wallowing.’ Why?”

 
; She couldn’t seem to find her voice, and when she did, it came out small. Whipped. Pathetic. “Because I don’t want a divorce.”

  She heard the sigh and waited for Will’s patented exasperated-with-Evie tone. He didn’t use it. “Then why are you here and not there?”

  “Because Nick wants one.” Saying that out loud hurt. “We only got married because I was pregnant, and now that I’m not…” She sighed. “My feelings changed. His didn’t.”

  Will shifted uncomfortably. “If we’re going to talk about boys and feelings now, maybe I should call Gwen. She’s much better at that whole thing.”

  That made her laugh. “Just a boy. I thought for a little while he might be the boy. But he doesn’t love me.”

  “Then he’s stupid. And I thought we covered the whole you-dating-stupid-boys thing years ago.”

  This time, the laugh did make her feel better. “Thanks.” She patted his leg. “Now you can get Gwen off your back without a trip to Las Vegas.”

  “I don’t know. Sounds like Nick could use a good kick in the—”

  “Very funny.”

  “You think I’m kidding?”

  “I think it’s best to let this go, no matter what I want. Nick and I have probably done enough damage to each other.” She stood and blew out her breath. “I think I should file this away under ‘painful lessons learned’ and just go on like it never happened.”

  Will turned serious. “Good luck with that. Just don’t wallow too much longer, okay?”

  “Actually, I’m feeling a lot better now.” Surprisingly enough, that wasn’t a complete lie. “Wanna buy me dinner?”

  “Sure, Squirt.”

  “Let me go freshen up. You can call Gwen and tell her I’m fine and she can put away the drums of war.”