Vegas Knights

by Maddix, Marina

  "Listen, if I've gotten anything good out of this miserable life, it's one lesson: the only person you can ever depend on is you. Got it?"

  She looked into Kelly's eyes, as if to be certain she understood what she was saying, bobbed her pink spikes, and opened the door.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Sitting at the table in the kitchenette, nursing a cup of tea as she watched everyone sketching Brandon's fine form, Kelly pulled her plane ticket out of her purse. It was an early morning flight, six o'clock, which meant she'd need to be there by four so she could check her paintings.

  She would have like to have finished a fourth piece for the series, but it wasn't the end of the world to just have the three, as long as her other paintings from home arrived in time. She glanced at the finished pieces in the corner, wondering when she should start packaging them up.

  Greta swept over to the counter and poured herself a cup of her custom-mixed chamomile-peppermint tea and settled in next to Kelly. "Why don't you tell me about it, dear?"

  Kelly sat up, alarmed by her words. She knew? Did Syndee blab? Trying to rein in her fear, she just said, "Tell you about what?"

  Greta gazed serenely at Brandon as she sipped her tea. "I may be an old woman, Kelly, but I'm still pretty sharp. What's going on with you?"

  Kelly's vision blurred with the tears she couldn't hold back. She fell into Greta's caring embrace and wept quietly until she got control of herself.

  Accepting the tissue Greta offered, Kelly glanced around and was relieved to see no one had paid attention to her outburst. They were all so engrossed in sketching the god-like Brandon that they didn't notice a woman was crying her eyes out in the corner. It was the first time since he'd walked in the studio that Kelly was grateful for his presence.

  "Ready to tell me now?"

  Kelly nodded and sniffed as she tried to figure out how to tell her mentor she was bailing on the Pinyon show because she got a better offer. "Oh, God, I can't look at you and say what I have to say."

  "Dear, it can't be all that bad. Just spit it out."

  Bracing herself for Greta's wrath — whatever that might look like — Kelly let it all out in a flurry of words. "I've been offered a show at the Soto Gallery in New York City and I fly out tomorrow morning which means I can't do your show and I feel so awful about it plus I have to leave Rick and I don't know how to tell him and I'm just so confused, Greta, and I don't know what to do."

  A weight lifted from her as the words flowed. It was such a relief to get it out there, even though she wasn't looking forward to the repercussions.

  A sad smile pulled at the corners of Greta's mouth. "I see."

  "No, Greta, you don't see. I've watched my friends move up in the art world while I've stayed at the level of someone fresh out of art school. All I've ever dreamed about since I was in school was having my very own solo show at a real New York gallery. I've submitting to dozens and dozens of galleries but most never even called back, and the rest rejected me. Even my best friend is making it big in New York, while my talent and vision moulder away because I can't catch a break. You have no idea how that kills me inside."

  Greta stared into her tea and nodded. "I believe I do, Kelly. Young people have grand dreams and I strongly believe they should do everything in their power to attain them."

  They sat for a moment, the older woman patting the younger's hand. "I think if you want to take the show in New York, you should."

  A furrow creased her brow and she gave Kelly a hard look. "But you're risking a lot for this one shot. That's quite a gamble."

  A cold lump formed in Kelly's stomach at her Greta's words but she mustered her most convincing smile. "Well, this is Vegas, after all."

  ~ * ~ * ~

  After a tearful goodbye to everyone at the Pinyon, even Syndee had given her a punch in the arm and wished her luck — not good luck, Kelly had noted, just luck — Kelly had collected her paintings and sketches and gone back to Rick's penthouse. She lined the Knight Fall series up along one wall to show him what he'd inspired, hoping he would understand her need to leave once he saw how good they were. Then it was just a waiting game until he returned.

  She once again fell asleep on the couch, and again he woke her by raining sweet kisses all over her face. "Hey, beautiful," he whispered when she cracked open her eyes. "What's all this?"

  Anxiety gripped her and she sat up too fast, bumping her forehead into Rick's. "Ouch!" he laughed. "I've been hurt by women before but you take it to a whole new level."

  Guilt and doubt gnawed at her. Was she making the right decision? She knew without a doubt that she loved Rick with all her heart, so why was she leaving? Oh, right, to fulfill her lifelong dream. Life sucks, she thought as she rubbed her forehead and stood.

  "I wanted to show you what I've been working on at the studio. What do you think?"

  Rick moved to the paintings, taking each one in carefully. "These're good. No. They're great." Turning to face her, he said, "Kelly, you have serious talent."

  A rush of pride swelled in her at his words. He liked them!

  "Do they seem familiar at all?"

  He took a step back and studied them again. She sidled up next to him and peeked at him out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction. She saw recognition dawn in his eyes a moment later.

  "Holy shit! These are from our trip, aren't they?"

  Kelly barely had a chance to nod before he'd wrapped her in a bear hug and lifted her off her feet. Gazing up into her face, he said, "You constantly amaze me, Kelly Saunders."

  Laughing, she lightly slapped his brawny bicep. "Put me down, you'll hurt yourself!”

  "Not before I get a kiss."

  Kelly dipped her head to give him a quick peck but when their lips touched, it was as if magnets held them together. Their tongues danced into each others' mouths and their hearts beat to the same rhythm. All thoughts were pushed from her mind until their kiss ended and Rick lowered her back to the floor.

  Doubt clutched at her again as she watched Rick move to the table and start leafing through her sketches. Was she crazy for thinking of leaving him? A cold slick of sweat coated her skin.

  Forcing down the bile that was creeping up her constricted throat, Kelly gave a small cough. "Rick, I really need to talk..."

  "What are these?" he interrupted.

  Kelly was confused by his terse tone. "Just some sketches."

  "I see that, Kelly. Who is it?"

  "Who's who?"

  A muscle in Rick's jaw was working back and forth. "Him," he said through his teeth as he stabbed at the sketch with his finger.

  "Oh. His name's Brandon. He came in to model for us yesterday."

  "So he posed for these in the studio?"

  "Yeah, why? What's wrong, Rick?"

  "You have a mirrored wall filled with booze bottles in the studio, do you?" He spun around to face her, his face dark with anger. "Answer me!"

  Kelly jumped. Rick had never yelled at her like that before. She had no idea what he was getting worked up over.

  "Of course not. I drew that one from memory."

  Rick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In a tightly controlled voice he asked, "Memory of what?"

  Now Kelly was starting to get frustrated. "Of when Beth and I went out the other night. Brandon was the bartender. Why do you care?"

  Ignoring her question, he pressed on. "Beth? Who the fuck is Beth?"

  Kelly realized that she'd never had the chance to tell him about Beth because they'd barely seen each other since they rolled into town. That coupled with his bizarre behavior made her blood boil.

  "Maybe if you spent even a minute of time with me, you might know that Beth is my new friend, my only friend here, really. I can't exactly count you since you'd rather spend your time at the office than with me!"

  A dark look flashed across Rick's face. "I warned you about that, Kelly. You knew all about it, so don't try to change the subject."

  "Change the... You're standing t
here yelling at me for finding a friend because I'm lonely and you call that changing the subject?"

  "Forget this friend. Why the fuck was this asshole posing for you? Naked?!"

  This was going nowhere fast. She calmed herself and tried to diffuse the situation by lowering her voice. "I don't know, he just showed up one day to pose."

  "You didn't invite him?"

  "No. Rick, what's this all about? Why did you call Brandon an asshole?"

  Kelly was amazed that the flames shooting from Rick's eyes didn't set her afire. Then he huffed in exasperation and raked through his hair in the way she loved. By the time he looked at her again, he'd calmed down but the anger in his eyes had turned to pain.

  "Brandon was one of my ex's many lovers while we were married," he explained. At Kelly's gasp, he nodded. "Yeah, so when I saw him in your drawings, I snapped. I couldn't live with myself if I'd forced you into his arms."

  Kelly flushed at the memory of her initial attraction for Brandon, but pushed it aside. Nothing had happened, other than realizing she didn't want any other man than the one slumped before her. Her heart ached for him. When she wrapped her arms around him, he sank into them, whispering her name.

  "I'm so sorry, Rick. I had no idea."

  "Don't be sorry. How could you have known?" He pulled back and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's just with everything Liz is putting me through right now, and then I see her old lover in one of your sketches..."

  A flash of red lit up Kelly's mind, a warning bell clanged. "Liz?"

  Rick nodded. "My ex, Liz. She's throwing up obstacle after obstacle just to piss me off."

  Kelly blinked. She didn't understand what he was saying but a sick feeling started building in her stomach. "Obstacles to what?"

  Rick moved over to the sketches, picking each one up and setting it back down.

  "Rick? What's your ex-wife throwing obstacles up against?"

  He turned and leaned back against the table, crossing his arms and looking at the tips of his shoes. "I thought it would be done by now. It was supposed to just be a quick signature and done. Had no idea she'd do this."

  Bile was starting to rise in Kelly's throat. "Do what?"

  He looked up at her, his face awash in guilt. "I would have told you, Kell — I wanted to — I just didn't think it was going to be an issue. It was a done deal."

  She closed her eyes and whispered, "Tell me now.”

  Rick took a deep breath. "Our divorce. I came back here to sign the papers that would finalize our divorce, okay? My lawyers said everything was all set, I just needed to come back to sign."

  Kelly felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach. She could barely breathe and her knees were threatening to buckle. She stumbled back against the wall to brace herself.

  "You're still married?" She hated how small and pathetic her voice sounded.

  Rick's tone turned pleading. "Only on paper, Kell. Really..." He stepped toward her but she found the strength to move away.

  Kelly had been cheated on by a couple boyfriends, so she could understand Rick's pain at being cuckolded, but she'd vowed to never willingly be a part of a love triangle. Some of her friends boasted about their married boyfriends, how they showered them with expensive gifts and never expected anything but a good time in return. The thought repulsed her. She couldn't imagine being the other woman, not only for how it would hurt her own self-esteem, but how it could hurt the wife if she ever found out. She couldn't imagine being a party to that. She'd always tried to live by the motto 'Do no evil' and here she was doing a lot of evil.

  Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head. Her breath hitched in her chest. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Rick tried moving toward her again but she kept the distance between them.

  "Kell, please. I thought I'd be divorced by now. It's just a matter of time. It’s been over almost since the beginning. The first time I’ve seen her in six months was the other day. Really, it's no big deal."

  Anger finally overpowered the hurt and disbelief that had shaken Kelly to the core. "No big deal?"

  She stopped moving and planted herself in front of him, hands balled into fists at her side. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she glared at him. "Then why did you feel the need to hide it? Why didn't you tell me from the start, or after we got here? Why, Rick?" Her volume increased steadily. "I'll tell you why. Because you knew I wouldn't accept being your mistress. You knew that was something I could never do. You pretended to care about me but you didn't care enough to give me all the information, because you were perfectly aware that if I knew, I'd leave. You're just a liar! A big, fat, selfish liar!"

  Tears still streamed down her reddened cheeks. Hysteria was clouding her mind, pain clawed at her heart. Rick grabbed her shoulders to pull her into a hug but she slapped away his hands. "Don't you touch me!" she screeched. "You lost that privilege."

  "Kelly..."

  "No! I need to get out of here. I need to leave, right now. I didn't ask for this, I didn't ask for any of it!" She could feel the sobs threatening to take over and she was desperate to get away from him fast, so she could think. If she stayed here, he would just confuse her, try to talk her into thinking all of this was okay. She looked around frantically, trying to figure out her next move. She was panicking, and she was helpless to prevent it.

  Rick held up his hands. "Whoa, slow down. You stay, I'll go. This was my fault; you shouldn't have to leave. But I would like to meet you for breakfast to talk this over."

  Kelly eyed him warily, sniffing and doing her best to swallow her sobs. At her curt nod, relief flooded his face. "Okay, good. I'll see you around eight, sound good?"

  She shrugged and looked away. It didn't really matter what time he came to collect her. She wouldn't be here. She'd be on a flight to New York.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kelly was dozing in her seat when the flight attendant rolled up with a drink cart. "Miss, would you like something?"

  Yeah, I'd like a lot of things, she thought, but shook her head at the woman. Her seat mate ordered a bloody mary. He leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, "Hate flying. Need something to calm the nerves."

  Kelly gave him a fake smile and turned to look out the window. Blocks of brown, tan and green passed beneath them as they flew over farmland somewhere in the midwest. She rested her forehead on the cool acrylic, remembering the last time she passed through this part of the country on the back of Rick's bike. A single tear plopped on the grimy plastic surround. Kelly brushed the dampness away from her eyes and took a cleansing breath. No sense getting worked up again. It was over, and by now Rick had found her note.

  After he'd left, Kelly crumpled to the floor and cried for a good long time. When she ran out of tears, she trudged into the shower hoping to freshen up. She was exhausted, but she had a lot to do before she caught a cab to McCarran Airport. Wrapped in a soft robe, Kelly stood in front of the fully stocked closet wondering what, if anything, she should take. None of it belonged to her but she had to at least look presentable when she arrived at the gallery. In the end, she chose a loose, pale blue silk dress and crepe cardigan by Eileen Fisher to wear on the plane, and packed her old dress and painting clothes into a big brown shopping bag. It wasn't even half-full.

  Then she set about plane-proofing her paintings. Greta had instructed her how to box and bind them in such a way that would prevent damage. She followed that by wrapping them thoroughly in paper and labeling them fragile. It was a bulky package but not terribly heavy.

  It was close to four in the morning by the time she was finally ready. Knowing she didn't have enough to pay for a cab to the airport or for one when she got to New York, Kelly pulled two crisp $100 bills out of the stack Rick had left for her. She'd figure out the rest when she got there.

  Her hand was on the penthouse's ornate door handle when she stopped. She may be angry with Rick, but he didn't deserve to be left wondering what happened to her, where she'd gone. She had to leave him a note.


  At the kitchen counter, she found a pad of paper and scribbled, tears smearing the ink before it dried.

  Rick,

  I'm sorry I can't meet you for breakfast. Beth got me a show in New York, and I wasn't sure if I should go but, under the circumstances, I think it would be best. For the record, I wish things had turned out differently for us. Please know I never wanted anything from you but your heart.

  Kelly

  PS: I borrowed $200 and I took one of outfits from the closet. I'll pay you back as soon as I can.

  Now halfway through a flight taking her to a new life, one she'd always dreamed of, one she'd worked for her entire life, Kelly could summon no emotion but sadness. She wanted to cry, but she didn't have any more tears left in her. The one that dropped on the fuselage was the last she would ever shed. A numbness crept over her. Some deep, nameless part of her soul had withered up and died like a delicate flower, and no amount of loving care could ever bring it back to life.

  Her finger traced a scratch on the window as she pushed thoughts of Rick out of her head and focused on her upcoming landing in the Big Apple. She'd left in such a hurry, and boarded the plane so early in the morning, she hadn't had a chance to call Beth to say goodbye. She'd call when she landed, or better yet, after she arrived at Soto Gallery so the gallerist could confirm she was the right person.

  A twinge of excitement broke through the ice surrounding her heart. She was doing it. A gallery had chosen her for a solo show. So what if a friend had called in a favor? Just goes to prove the truth of the old saying 'It's not what you know, it's who you know.' She'd always hated that saying, mainly because she didn't know anyone influential. But now...

  She hoped Beth could make the show. She would, of course, invite Greta, but had a feeling her mentor might be otherwise occupied. Maybe she could even track down Brutus while she was in town. It had been so long and she missed her best friend.

  Visions of little red 'SOLD' dots peppering her paintings played through her mind as she nodded off with her head resting against the window. Her dreams were disjointed and vaguely upsetting but, when she woke with a start, she couldn't remember them.