Vegas Revenge Wedding

by Kelli Callahan

  I had too many nights purging Quetzalcoatl from my stomach and flushing him down the ceramic to ever dance with that ancient Aztecan again. I took a step towards the table to my left when the patrons walked away, and put the shot glass in the middle of their empty beer bottles. With one quick step to my right, I was back in the perimeter of the group that had become my permanent home until I could make an excuse to leave. The dress seemed to move up my hips on its own, or rub against my ribs in a way that I was sure would leave a mark, so I had to keep adjusting it. The battle never seemed to be won. The next thing I knew, a voice broke me from the war with my attire and startled me.

  Chapter 3: Max

  “Me?” She looked at me with a bit of confusion.

  “Yes, I think you’re beautiful.” Behind my back I gave a signal to Steve and the volume of the music started to get louder.

  “You what?” My words were drowned out before she could hear the last word.

  “I said, I think you’re beautiful.” I leaned closer to her, my lips nearly against her ear so she could hear my words.

  “I’m sorry.” She blushed and stared at me, her eyes blinking. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “Tell me you already know it. Tell me that guys say that to you all the time.” I let my lips drag against her earlobe.

  “Guys don’t say that...” She tugged at her dress.

  “They should. That dress looks really uncomfortable.” I could see redness in her cheeks and they were already starting to glow with faint radiating blush.

  “I borrowed it from my friend.” She pointed towards the table. “She’s over there.”

  “You can return it when you pick it up off the floor tomorrow morning.” I put my hand on her arm and let my finger slide down the sensitive skin near her wrist.

  “Uh... Um...” She took a step back and tried to say something, but the music drowned her out.

  “I can’t hear you.” I mouthed and motioned for her to say it in my ear.

  “I said I’m not that kind of girl.” She spoke directly into my ear and I ran my fingers along her arm again.

  “Why don’t we just go somewhere quieter and talk then? I really do think you’re beautiful, but it is too loud to talk in here.” I reached for her hand and started walking towards the door.

  She was mine.

  The music was so loud that it was probably hard for her to even think, much less figure out what I was saying. I flashed a thumbs-up to Steve as I walked towards the door and he started lowering the volume before customers started to complain. He knew my tricks because he had seen them repeated so many times. I could feel Abby’s hand sweating as we walked through the crowd and outside the club. The evening air felt nice after being trapped in a room filled with sweating college students. The second we were outside the club, she pulled her hand away and shook her head.

  “I need to get back to my friends. That sip of tequila must have really done me in, because I don’t know you.” She moved her hand in a half-circle wave. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “Wait, don’t go.” I stepped forward and took her by the hand, preparing to ooze charisma filled with all the manners I could muster—it was a wonderful mask to wear when I met the kind of good girls I liked best. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m obviously not very good at talking to women in clubs. That’s my fault. I just wanted to get your attention.”

  “You seem nice.” Her lips twisted into nervous uncertainty and she looked down at the ground.

  Here comes the fucking but.

  “But, I’m not really interested in going home with someone I just met and I’m not sure the kind of guy that would want that sort of thing is really my type.” Her smile twisted to one of pity, like she felt sorry for me.

  “I came on too strong.” I nodded. “I get that. I’m not upset with you for being concerned. I don’t get out much. I’m just a guy that saw a beautiful girl and got a little ahead of myself. You don’t sound like much of a drinker. Would you like to get coffee instead? There’s a nice little coffee shop right over there. You can see it from here. They’re open all night and we can just talk until your friends are done.” I gave her my best I love you smile, buried behind a remorseful stare.

  “I really don’t want to go back inside.” She sighed. “Yeah, coffee sounds good.”

  “Awesome.” I extended the crook of my elbow towards her and smiled as she put her hand in it.

  “Let’s start over. My name is Abby—short for Abigail and I don’t mind if you call me that.” She looked up at me with a smile forming where I had previously seen nothing but hesitation.

  Mine. Mine. Mine. All. Fucking. Mine.

  “Hey girl. Don’t go falling in love with him. He’ll break your fucking heart.” I looked to the line of people waiting to get into the club and saw one of the women step out of line. She started walking towards us with a purpose, her high heel shoes slamming on the sidewalk with each step.

  God, what was her name. I knew her. I fucked her. Valerie? No, it was Veronica.

  “I’m sorry, she’s just a crazy person.” I tried to keep Abby’s hand in the crook of my arm, but she stopped walking and turned around.

  “This guy?” She pointed at me with her thumb. “Max?”

  “Yeah, Max.” Veronica let out a laugh. “What did he do? Offer to take you for coffee so you could have some time to talk? You may think you’re clever enough to resist his charm right now, but give him an hour. Your panties will be drowning in your pussy and begging him to come save them.”

  “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Veronica.” I gave her a death stare, but I knew it was all over with Abby. The rest of the patrons in line were paying attention as well, and Abby seemed a little nervous.

  “We call him Mr. Mistake, those of us that let him in. We fell for his charm, fell for his good looks, and of course the fact he’s filthy rich doesn’t hurt. You can follow him and join our club tomorrow morning—he won’t be there when you wake up. Or, you can go back inside with your friends where you’re safe.” Veronica pointed towards the door.

  “Abby...” I let out a sigh.

  “I’m sorry, I should go.” Abby looked down at the ground as she ran back towards the door.

  “This place really needs more bouncers.” I sighed angrily. “Are you still that pissed off at me? It’s been what, two years?”

  “That’s the problem, Mr. Mistake—you’re unforgettable. Now that she’s gone, why don’t you take me home and I can make that mistake again.” Veronica walked closer and took my hand as the crowd finally stopped staring.

  “We’ve had this talk before. It’s not happening.” I turned and motioned towards my driver who was waiting on the other side of the street.

  He did a u-turn out of his parking space and pulled up to the curb. I climbed into the passenger door and slammed it shut, watching Veronica stomp her high heel before she walked back towards the line.

  Veronica was a bit of an anomaly. I thought she was a sweet, innocent young woman when I first met her, but she turned out to be a freak. It was a fun night but it was never going to be forever. Veronica seemed to have other ideas and she stalked me for a bit, posting shit about me on social media. She coined the term, Mr. Mistake, and even used it as a hashtag for some of her friends. Occasionally, I would run into her and she would try to get me to take her home. It was the first time she had ruined a date for me, and I was angry I had to go home alone because of her interference.

  Chapter 4: Abby

  Mr. Mistake.

  No. There was no way I would have went home with him. That wasn’t even feasible. We would have gone to the coffee shop, had a cup of coffee, and then I would have been in bed regretting my decision to end my evening with a steaming cup of caffeine. There was electricity when he touched me, fire when his lips got close to my ear, and I was lost in those dark brown eyes. He seemed like such a nice guy when we talked. The night was perfect, the moon was hanging in the sky like it was there to perfectly illumina
te the moment, and then what I thought was beginning of my life’s romance novel ended with those fateful words.

  Mr. Mistake.

  I stretched out on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Sebastian curled up next to me and tried to share my grief with his gentle purring. It wasn’t the first time I had come close to tumbling head over heels in a matter of minutes. When I was in high school, a hot guy said I was the one, led me on, and seconds before his lips descended to mine he started laughing. He wasn’t the only one. Everyone joined him in the ridicule. It was a prank. I was the butt of the joke, stupid enough to believe someone like Chad Dawson wanted me. I spent months hearing those cackles behind my back from those that retold the story over and over until someone else became a better victim.

  “It looks like we’re going to grow old together, Sebastian.” I rubbed his head. “That isn’t a bad thing, right?”

  After a few hours of wallowing in self-pity, I started to think of work. I was supposed to prepare for the meeting. I didn’t know a whole lot about the company we were meeting with. I picked up the portfolio and started flipping through it. When I got into advertising and marketing, I thought life would be filled with creativity, but before the creativity ever got started, we had to convince them we deserved to pitch them ideas. The company sold energy drinks and catered to a higher-class crowd, mixing various vitamins into their overdose of caffeine. As I dug through their catalog, I noticed that they were losing ground to the more popular brands with their target audience, but gaining ground with the college crowd. I felt like I could use that to my advantage at the meeting, so I closed the portfolio and rubbed Sebastian’s head.

  I WALKED INTO THE OFFICE on Monday morning with a coffee in my hand and a fresh idea in my head. I was ready to dazzle everyone in the room with my new business strategy. I stood by my desk and sipped my coffee while the cliques formed around me. I hadn’t yet found my place in the company. They used me as a Jill-of-all-trades. That was going to change when I completely revolutionized our client’s business model, won the account, and secured the admiration of everyone in the office. I tried to forget Mr. Mistake and the moment we shared, but every time the room got silent, the what-if scenarios ran through my head. I sipped my coffee and tried to shake off the thoughts.

  “Hey, Abby.” I heard a nervous giggle and turned to see one of our tech guys behind me.

  “How’s it going, Paul?” I turned to him with a smile.

  “Is the software update working well for you?” He pushed his thin-framed glasses up his nose and smiled.

  “Yeah...” I nodded with a raised eyebrow. “It’s working great; is there something I should be concerned about?”

  “No, I just wanted to check in with you.” He stared at the floor. “So, I had a question...”

  Before Paul could ask his question—I already knew what it was—the boss walked in and motioned for everyone to join him in the conference room. I quickly said my goodbye to Paul, saving him the embarrassment of being declined for a date. I was impressed he had found the courage to finally ask me since I had known for a while that he was interested, but he just wasn’t my type. He was thin, nerdy, and awkward—his genetics were not his fault, but I couldn’t help it if I didn’t have any attraction to him at all. I was glad the meeting had started before I had to break his heart. I hoped it would take him a few more months to work up the courage again—it would be better for us both if he never did.

  “Okay, I’d like to welcome the representatives from Energy Enhanced.” My boss, Mr. Hawthorne, turned to them. “Gentlemen, I hope you’ll like what you hear.”

  “Before we begin.” One of the men from Energy Enhanced held up his phone. “We have an investor that wanted to join us for the meeting. He’s in the elevator, if you don’t mind waiting...”

  “No, not at all.” Mr. Hawthorne nodded.

  The doors opened and in walked Max—Mr. Mistake. He was the freaking investor. He walked in like he owned the damn room, oozing charisma when he scanned the audience. I could see Mr. Hawthorne swallow a lump in his throat and several of the people from Energy Enhanced started muttering to each other. It seemed I was the only one in the room that didn’t really know him, yet I knew things about him I was sure none of the people around the table had a clue about. I felt my throat drying out and my tongue going numb as I stared at him. He pulled up a chair and took a seat. When his eyes met mine, I had to immediately look down at the floor.

  Chaos.

  “My time is limited. Pitch it to me.” He folded his hands on the table.

  “Mr. Martin owns eighty-five percent of the company.” The representative from Energy Enhanced presented Max like he was the living embodiment of Jesus Christ sitting in our conference room.

  “Right.” Mr. Hawthorne nodded. “We appreciate you joining us.”

  The next ten minutes were agonizing. My boss pitched his best ideas, completely laid out with charts, graphs, and everything we would normally use to woo a client. Max just ignored it for the most part, looking at his cell phone and grunting when potential sales figures went up on the screen. I could see the frustration growing on Mr. Hawthorne’s face, even if he managed to avoid verbalizing it. The Energy Enhanced representatives seemed to look towards Max for approval each time a new idea was put on the table and when he didn’t react, they followed his lead. The meeting was going south. Ideas were flying from every direction and crashing before they hit their target.

  “I’ve got an idea...” I finally broke my silence. My boss gave me a shake of his head, indicating I was speaking out of line.

  “I’m sorry.” Max put down his phone. “Who are you?”

  “I’m...” I tried to swallow the dryness in my throat. “I’m Abby Grant. I’m fairly new here but—”

  As if he didn’t remember.

  “You’ll have to excuse me, Ms. Grant.” Max’s voice dripped with the same sugary sweetness he had when I met him at the club. “I’m not trying to be insulting, but I’ve heard a lot of ideas and none of them have been worth the syllables.”

  “You haven’t heard my idea.” My words came out quick, almost as if someone else said them—it almost startled me when I realized they came from my lips.

  “The floor is yours.” Max gave me a smile and I could see that Mr. Hawthorne’s brow had erupted into sweat as he stared at me.

  “Your marketing strategy.” I started to feel a bit of courage as I began to speak. “You’re trying to cater to high end clients. I’m not sure your brand is built for that. The name Energy Enhanced doesn’t exactly scream high class.”

  “Abby...” Mr. Hawthorne walked across the room and put his hand on my shoulder. “Gentleman, I apologize. As she said, she’s new.” His hand tightened on my shoulder.

  “I’d like to hear what she has to say.” Max leaned towards the table. “I don’t like hearing problems without a solution, so is there more to this epiphany?”

  “Yes.” I shrugged off Mr. Hawthorne’s hand and opened my folder. “I know it isn’t a market share you’re really after, but Energy Enhanced is actually doing very well with the college crowd. They don’t care about all the vitamins you’re infusing with caffeine to make it more appealing than the competition. They’re just drinking it and realizing it gives them a lift. You’re growing in that market faster than any of your competition.”

  “Do we follow that market?” Max looked towards the representatives from Energy Enhanced.

  “No.” The man who had introduced Max shook his head. “It isn’t the market sector we’re after. Our strategy is—”

  “How can we ignore it?” Max drummed his fingers on the table. “Fuck strategy. Business is all about opportunity and Ms.—I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

  “Abby.” Mr. Hawthorne stepped forward with a smile that was glowing. “Abby Grant.”

  “Ms. Grant has clearly picked up on something you haven’t been paying attention to. I think they just proved that they deserve our account, wouldn’t you agr
ee?” He stared down the group from Energy Enhanced.

  “Yes sir.” Their reply was almost in unison.

  WHEN THE MEETING WAS over and people started to leave, I slipped out of the conference room and retreated to the break room. It was empty. Everyone that had time to take a break was on pins and needles as they waited to find out how many advertising dollars the account was going to be worth. I knew it would be a lot. I was more confused than ever about Max—Mr. Mistake. He had to remember me, even if he just seemed to feign indifference. I fixed a cup of coffee, stirring in cream and sugar. A few seconds later, I heard someone walking into the break room. I turned around to see Max. Even a few minutes without him directly in front of me had made me forget how attractive he was. He looked like he was sculpted from perfection, staring at me with those oh so mind boggling dark brown eyes.

  “Hi, I’m Max—short for Maxwell, but please don’t call me that.” He extended his hand.

  “Seriously?” I put down my coffee cup and folded my arms across my chest.

  “Okay, fine.” He looked down at the floor. “Yeah, some people call me Mr. Mistake.”

  “I don’t make mistakes.” I shook my head.

  “Never?” He raised his head and smiled. “Not even one?”

  “No.” I shook my head again. “Don’t feed me your crap. I don’t have the stomach for it. I’m not interested in being a one-night stand and I’m certainly not going to ever call you Mr. Mistake.”

  “You’re very confident.” He grinned. “I didn’t expect that.”

  “Don’t try to woo me. Don’t give me this sugary sweet nonsense. I already know it is nothing but a lie.” I stared at him.

  “Fine.” He started walking towards me.

  Holy shit.

  I didn’t see that one coming. I thought I was telling him to hit the bricks, but he took it as an open invitation. When he got close me and I felt his buzz—that same radiating electricity I felt the night we met—I was practically sweating. I wasn’t the kind of woman to fall victim to charm like his, but he turned the charm off and went straight into attack mode. Before I realized what his next play was, there was an arm around my waist and he was pulling me close. His other hand grabbed me by the back of the neck and tilted my head. Everything in my conscious brain built on rationale thought was saying no, but my head was spinning with the intoxication of his touch.