It’s nice that she cares enough to make me feel like I have an option. As her sister, I always take care of Sam because, well, I love her. She might be a hot mess at times, but she’s my hot mess.
Within minutes, the hotel room smells like a mixture of perfume and hair spray, and I’m glad we got a nonsmoking room, or I’d be afraid Carrie might try to light the joint I know she has in her purse. Between that and the massive amount of flammable chemicals, we’d be sure to start a small fire.
Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating, but honestly, I wish these windows opened more than the inch crack I just got out of each of them.
“Tell me, have you banged a player yet?” Carrie asks. She pretty much asks me this every time I see her since I started working for the LA Lakers.
I pick up the decorative pillow that’s sitting on the bed and toss it at her. “How many times are you going to ask me that?”
“Until I hear, Why, yes, I did, and it was ah-may-zing,” she teases as she runs her hands up her body. “And don’t give me that it’s frowned upon shit. So is not jumping on those tall, manly gods you see walking around all sweaty on a daily basis.”
I laugh at her antics as I slide my black leggings over my calves. I pair them with tall boots and a bright blue shirt that brings out the color in my eyes. Sitting on the bed, I start to apply the minimal makeup I wear every day.
Sarah puts on a cute sweater dress that zips from the bottom of the dress all the way to the top in the front, showing off some cleavage. It’s sexy but not over the top like Carrie, who has on a black dress that’s squeezing her breasts out the top and the ultimate fuck me of fuck me boots to match.
When I step into the bathroom, I examine my reflection in the full-length mirror. Where I’m five foot five with a lean dancer body from the years of ballet I did when I was younger, Sam is smaller and has enough curves for the both of us, and her outfit shows off every inch of them.
Deciding I need to step up my game so that I don’t stand out as the Goody Two-shoes tonight, I reach for Sam’s curling iron and plug it in, planning to put big curls in my straight, long brown hair.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Sam comes over to the mirror, placing her makeup on the counter. “I knew you’d try to hide those gorgeous legs like you always do, so I brought you an outfit.”
My lips slowly tilt up to a smile. “You didn’t …”
“Oh, yes, I did,” she sings as she flings around the black dress with lace arms that flow open toward the bottom.
I’ve admired it for years now. It was always more my style than hers, and I was so jealous when she bought it while we were shopping at Neiman Marcus years ago. It cost a fortune. I couldn’t bring myself to put it on a credit card. In my mind, the justification was never there.
She, on the other hand, waited for me to say I wasn’t going to get it before she swooped it up, opened yet another card to put it on, and walked out of the department store with the biggest smile on her face.
I’ve wished since that day that I could throw caution to the wind like she could. I have to have a plan, a way to pay for things, and at least a thousand dollars in my account at all times. She’s lucky if her account doesn’t bounce.
I think that’s the major difference between someone who gets tips and someone who has to wait two weeks for a paycheck. Sam has always been a waitress and makes damn good money at the high-end steakhouse she works at where she knows she’ll make a few hundred dollars every night.
I started out interning for no pay for years, so I had to budget big time to make my small nighttime stocking job stretch for two weeks, knowing not a penny would be coming my way until then.
Some habits die hard though. Even though I’m making good money now, it’s hard to splurge on myself.
I grab it from her, trying to act irritated, but she sees right through it.
Laughing, she pushes my shoulder as I step away from her. “You’re welcome,” she teases.
I turn around, smiling bigger than I have this entire trip as I slip off my boots and leggings.
Once we’re all ready, we take one more shot and walk out the door, heading toward the elevator when I notice I forgot my phone.
“Sorry. Wait here. I’m going to run back to get my phone,” I say as I turn around.
Thankfully, our room is only a few doors down, so I rush back just as I hear the elevator doors open.
“Better hurry, or this car’s leaving without you,” Sam singsongs with a laugh.
I hear some commotion of whoever is getting off the elevator, and I say a little thank-you under my breath, knowing that’s buying me some more time.
I enter the room and see my purple case sitting on the bed, so I quickly grab it and run back out to the hallway.
Not paying attention, I run back to the elevator in my wobbly heels, only to trip and go stumbling toward the brightly colored carpet.
I clench my eyes shut, afraid to take in what’s going down—literally—when two strong hands reach out and catch me as the persons luggage falls to the floor instead of me. Liquid splashes everywhere around us.
I grip an arm that is obviously not one of my girls, and instantly, I fume with embarrassment. When I get my bearings and inhale a deep breath, a musky, manly smell hits my senses.
And I like it.
My body goes flush as I run my arm down this man’s, feeling every dip and valley between the long, lean bicep all the way to his forearm. When I feel the veins, I close my eyes, not wanting to see what this man looks like because, if he’s anything like what his arm feels like, I’m going to die from humiliation.
“Are you okay?” A deep male voice sends tingles right to my lady parts.
Opening my eyes, I get back to my feet and stand up straight. I fix my hair as I take a peek at the man who just broke my fall. His black-rimmed glasses are sexy more than dorky, and he’s got messy hair that seems it was styled to be that way rather than just messy from the day. He’s lean and tall with the bronzed complexion of a Greek god and the straight jaw of an Abercrombie model.
His chin is tilted down, his forehead crinkled up in genuine concern. “I’m so sorry I tripped you. You’re not hurt, are you?”
I fix my outfit, and when I look up at him, his eyes are staring right at my breasts, but he quickly corrects himself.
He turns his head toward his door—room 7007.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I shouldn’t have been racing out in the hallway like that. My friends are waiting on me, and I forgot my phone.” I’m rambling, so I stop and take a breath when I see his drink on the floor. “I’m so sorry I made you spill your drink.”
I notice my phone lying next to it. We both lean down to retrieve it, him getting there before me. As we’re crouched down, he hands it to me, and I take a deep breath, his closeness causing the butterflies in my tummy to flutter out of control.
“You don’t want to forget this. You might need it tonight.” A faint smile touches his lips, but he wipes it away.
I grab my phone from him, and when my fingers rub against his again, I get the same chill down my spine.
“Come on, girl, let’s go! Unless you want to stay and flirt with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome,” Sam yells.
“I have to go,” I say, trying not to stutter.
We both stand, and I awkwardly step beside him. Then, I try to make my way past his luggage laid out on the floor.
“Have a safe night,” he says.
When I turn around, he’s standing in the hallway, not trying to open his door but rather watching me walk away.
I smile and give him a small wave. “You, too.”
The girls and I enter the elevator, and Sam hits me with her shit-eating grin. “Leave it to Gemma to run into a hot guy an hour after being here.”
“Girrrl, if you wanna go back there and get your swerve on, we won’t be offended to get left this early in the night.” Carrie sways to her words.
Sarah laughs. “Gemma? Get it on with a random? Neve
r!”
“I would totally hook up with someone,” I defend.
“He definitely looked like he was packing and totally into you.” Sam waggles her brows.
“And he smelled so good.” I sigh before I raise my eyebrows at them.
They look at me like I have three heads.
“Smell? Seriously? Dark hair, blue eyes, arms that could be in a porn all on their own, and you’re into the way he smells? I was more focused on the whole James Bond thing he had going on with that suit jacket he was holding, his top button open on his shirt, and his sleeves rolled up.”
I laugh out loud. “Well, he is in room seven-double-oh seven.”
They join in, giggles filling the elevator. I peek out to see if he’s still there, watching us as the doors shut.
He is.
CHAPTER 2
“Where are we going to eat?” I ask once we step off the elevator and into the chaos that is a Vegas casino.
Bells and chimes ding from every direction, and the smell of stale cigarettes lingers, no matter how well they say the place is ventilated.
Someone screams, “I won,” from one direction while I hear someone else scream, “Red, baby. Let me see it land on red!”
I’m not a big gambler. The thought of putting down money on one color makes me ill. I’ve been told video poker has the best odds, so that’s what I play most the time. Penny slots are fun, too, but I only bet the minimum. Those things can turn into five-dollar pulls if you’re not careful.
When I’m in the mood to just chill, I’m totally happy with sipping my free drink and playing on less than forty dollars the entire night. Tonight’s not going to be one of those nights though. They only give out free drinks when you’re gambling, and we came here to dance our asses off.
“Do we want to find a place in the hotel or venture out?” Carrie asks.
“Did I hear that you want to venture out?” a guy asks as he wraps his arm around Carrie.
The tall guy is dressed in a black button-down and designer jeans. He’s with a few friends who appear to be harmless at first glance.
Carrie assesses the man’s looks, and from the way her eyes widen she likes what she sees and decides to play along. “I was talking about food, but that doesn’t mean we’re not open for something else.”
“Well, my boys and I were just going to grab a bite, too. Are you interested in joining us?”
Carrie acts like she’s checking with us before turning back to him. It’s one thing to hang in a bar together, but eating with a group of guys you’ve never met could turn disastrous, as you’re stuck for the entire meal if they turn out to be jackasses.
She decides to play with them a little longer, sizing them up for later maybe. “I guess that depends. Do you have any other friends who can join us?” Carrie motions to his friends and then back to us. There’s three of them and four of us.
“Whatever happened to sharing is caring?” The shit-eating grin on his face makes us all laugh out loud.
“I’ll tell you what. We’ll go have dinner by ourselves, and then we’re going to Chateau tonight. If you’re truly up for sharing, look for us there,” Carrie says, rubbing her fingers down his chest.
I stifle a giggle. She’s totally fucking with him, and he’s eating it up. There’s no doubt that he’ll be searching for her later now, but she knows there will be no need to share. Sarah’s one of the lucky ones who has found an amazing man, and she wouldn’t dream of cheating on Bryan.
He runs his fingers through his stubble on his chin, nodding. “We’ll see you later than.”
He nods to his friends, and they turn in the opposite direction of the exit.
“Oh my God, they were so fine!” Sam says, grabbing Carrie’s arm in excitement as we head out the doors.
“Girl, you should have felt the muscles under that shirt!” she replies.
Sarah and I smirk at each other, knowing we’ll probably lose the two of them before the night is over. Some things never change with these two.
I lean over to whisper, “You have the room key, right?”
She laughs. “Yep. I made that mistake last time we were here and sat in the hall, talking to Bryan all night because Carrie had my money and ID, too.”
“Lesson learned, right?”
She nods. “Huge one.”
I smile and grab her arm as we speed-walk to catch up to Carrie and Sam, who are already out the door.
The night chill rushes through my body and finds its way up my skirt. Most people wouldn’t say it’s cold, but in this outfit, with more skin showing than not, it’s a little chilly.
“Yay, look!” Carrie points as we meet up with them. “It’s Gordon Ramsay Steak. We have to eat there.”
I turn to Sam, and we say at the same time, “What are you? An idiot sandwich,” quoting one of the funniest yet worst insults from the show.
Sam and I can’t seem to get enough of his shows. They are like crack when it comes to looking for something that makes your life seem not so bad.
The place is busy, but we’re here after the normal dinner rush, so we don’t have to wait for a table. They lead us upstairs to a private round booth with tall black leather backs.
Once we’re seated, I open my menu, searching for something that will sit well in my stomach with the upcoming drinking that will ensue tonight but also help me soak it up, so I won’t hurt too bad tomorrow.
“Hello, ladies. Are you celebrating something special tonight?” a waiter asks when he approaches our table.
“Why, yes, we are. I finally convinced a judge to give me an annulment. Drinks all around!” Sam says, motioning her hands to all of us.
The waiter scrunches his face. “I’m thinking, by the way you said that, congrats are in order, but that seems a little odd.”
“Not in her case,” Carrie says, placing her hand on the table to make a point. “Guy was a total asshole, liar, and tried to saddle her with his huge debt.”
“Yikes. Okay, I get it. Champagne then?”
“Champagne is for weddings. Tequila is for divorce!” Sam yells.
He smirks, slapping his notepad to his other hand. “You got it. Four shots coming up.”
“Waters, too, please,” I say.
He turns to give me a nod in acknowledgment. “Good call. I’ll be right back.”
He leaves, and Carrie leans closer to us, whispering, “Did you see his ass?”
“Honey, I was too busy staring at the front of him. And that look he just gave you, Gemma? You must be giving off some kind of come fuck me tonight vibe. You need to rub some of that on me,” she jokes as she runs her hands up and down my arm.
I push her off, laughing.
I glance around the room and am stopped short when my eyes meet the guy I just tripped over from the across the hall. He’s being sat at a two-seater a few feet away. He’s dressed more casually now in a black polo and jeans. Another man sits across from him.
His eyes meet mine, and my body instantly reacts to his presence. We’re stuck on each other for a few brief seconds before I pick up my menu and start searching for food again.
My cheeks blush, and I can feel the heat rise up them as I try to focus on my dinner choices. I’m dying to know if he’s still looking at me, so I raise my eyes, keeping my head down, and check over my menu.
He is.
And I just got caught checking him out again.
But he’s looking my way, too.
I take another glimpse up from my menu and don’t miss the dimple that appears on his cheek.
I give a little wave with the tops of my fingers.
He nods his hello, and I smile back.
“What’s causing you to blush like that?” Sam asks. When she sees him sitting there, she squeals and hits my leg. “Nice, double-oh seven is checking you out. I told you he was into you.”
I tilt my head down, trying to cover my face with my menu. “He’s being cordial because I almost smushed him earlier.”
; She pushes the thick, book-like object to the table. “Maybe not, but you’ll never know if you hide behind that menu.”
Thankfully, the waiter returns with our shots and blocks my view of him, so I can gather myself and not be so nervous.
“To dissolving the three rings of marriage: the engagement ring, the wedding ring, and the suffer-ring,” Carrie says, holding up her drink for all of us to join in.
“I’ll cheers to that.” Sam clinks her shot to ours, and we all shoot it back, shivering as the alcohol attacks our bodies.
I encourage everyone to drink some water as they order dinner and more drinks.
“Do you think those guys from earlier will be at Chateau tonight?” Sam asks.
“If they’re smart, they will be.” Carrie laughs as she jokingly adjusts her bra. “There will be plenty of guys though, so I’m not worried if they don’t. What’s the plan if one of us wants to hook up with a guy?”
“To be safe,” Sarah interjects. “And, no, I’m not getting kicked out of my room again.” She playfully hits Carrie’s arm. “You can find another place to hook up. Just try to stay in the hotel, please. I don’t want to have to put out an APB all over Vegas on you in the morning.”
“Don’t worry; I’m sure there are dark spots up on the rooftop that will work just fine.” Sam winks at Sarah.
I chuckle under my breath, dropping my head to my chest. If only she were kidding.
My sister is an adult. As much as I want to keep her chaste tonight, I know there’s no holding her back. And that’s fine. I don’t care who or what she does. As long as she doesn’t come back with another husband or, God forbid, pregnant, then this weekend will be a victory.
Carrie fills us in on the last date she went on. She’d met him on an internet dating site. “I swear, the guy was on something. The entire time, he was fidgety, and he got up to go to the restroom, no joke, eleven times. I started counting after the third. I’ve never wanted to bail on a date as much as I wanted to on him. Sarah here was supposed to help me. She and Bryan said they’d meet us at the restaurant and would help me get out of it if I needed to.” She turns to Sarah. “Go ahead. Why don’t you tell them what you and Bryan were really up to?”
Blackout: A Romance Anthology Page 59
