Instead, I stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish’s. The slut. That hurt.
“I’m Chris Patterson.” He extended a hand. I shook hands with him, grateful for his adult attitude. “I apologize for the moron.”
“Some brother you are. That’s not nice.” Rod looked insulted.
“Not nice? You call me a slut, and he’s not nice?” I couldn’t believe this idiot.
“I didn’t call you that. Your sister did. I was just quoting.”
“You’d better shut up before she lets you have it.” Chris’s face looked like a storm front was moving through.
“I’m going upstairs.” Rod nodded to me and pushed past his brother.
“Meet me in the lobby in thirty minutes.” Chris glanced at his watch. “We can catch the next shuttle to the airport and catch the two o’clock to Newark.”
Rod shrugged and kept walking toward the elevators.
“He’s such a kid.” Chris looked down at the mess on my table. “Can I get you another one of those?”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll head upstairs, too.”
“To warn your sister?”
He didn’t merit an answer. My newspaper was ruined, so I abandoned it. I dropped a five on the table as an apology to whoever would have to bus this mess and headed out of the café.
A strong hand on my upper arm pulled me short. I stared down at it, then at Chris. “And here I was, thinking you were better than your brother. Let go or I’ll scream.”
“Scream and I’ll kiss you. Happens here all the time. No one will look twice.”
“You are so disturbed. And I don’t even want to know how you came up with that lame line. Scream and I’ll kiss you.” I snorted, not an easy thing to do. Get it wrong and it sounds like you have a cold. Or worse, you end up with an embarrassing nose thing and no tissue handy.
He looked at me, expressionless. “Where’s your sister?”
“Why ask me? You should have asked your brother.” I’d wanted to follow Rod upstairs and find where they were, but he was long gone. “Too late.”
Chris looked toward the elevators, then back at me. “Damn. I thought you were in on it. You mean you don’t know where they are?”
“In this hotel somewhere. I’ve been leaving them messages since I got in yesterday, but no luck.”
He cursed. “He’s going to blow the semester. You know how hard it is to get into Princeton? The idiot.”
“Is that where you went?”
He glared at me. I shivered. He was so George Clooney. Angry George Clooney.
Carl had left a brief phone message to call him. I dialed, and he answered right away.
“I’d come, but someone’s got to stay here and take care of the kids.”
“It’s better to let me handle it, Carl. We’ll be back soon.” I didn’t mention Rod. I’d always thought that Carl was a dull, plodding kind of guy, but he was looking better all the time. Especially since Susu’d gone nuts.
I promised to call him later, then called the front desk to leave a message for Susu.
“She’s checked out,” the clerk said.
“Try Rod Patterson.”
“Yes. I’ll connect you to Mr. Patterson’s room.”
Bingo. The phone rang three times, and then the voice mailbox picked up.
“Susu, it’s Anita. Carl’s really worried about you. He’s in Atlanta with the kids, but he’s dying to come out here and I don’t know how long I can hold him off. Call me, okay? I’m in room 752.”
I didn’t know what else to say. Rod had probably already warned her that his brother was here, looking for them. I hung up without saying good-bye.
If you’re not gambling, and you’re not with friends, Las Vegas is the world’s most boring city. By three that afternoon I was ready to scream. I’d been keeping an eye on the front lobby, on the off chance that Chris would succeed in talking his brother into returning home. They’d have to walk right past me.
The time for the flight to New Jersey came and went, and no Patterson boys.
Had my sister been kidnapped by aliens, or what? She’d changed so much. My solid, mature sister was running around with a guy almost ten years younger. It would be hysterical if it wasn’t so pathetic.
I was the one who was always accused of being selfish and wild, and here I was, trying to get her back to her old life. I dragged myself upstairs, nursing a headache from the constant noise of the slot machines.
I was snoozing through Jerry Springer when the phone rang. I jumped, mentally rehearsing what I’d tell Susu.
“Babe. Ready to party?” The lightly accented male voice wasn’t familiar.
“Who is this?”
“Bernardo. Remember, from the bar last night? We compared fat lips.”
The boxer!
“Bernardo, of course. How’s the lip?”
“Better. I iced it. How’s yours?”
“Much improved. Do you have a fight tonight?”
“Not me. Not till day after tomorrow. I thought you might want to party with us tonight. A bunch of us are going to catch a couple of shows, maybe go dancing. How about it?”
I looked at the TV. Springer was muted. I’d slept through it, and could expect more of the same. I’d go insane.
“Where do you want to meet?”
“I can come up.”
“Ha ha. Good try. I’ll meet you in the lobby, at the foot of the Eiffel Tower.”
“Cool with me. See you there.”
I jumped into the shower, feeling energized again. If Susu was going to be the death of me, I might was well have a little fun before I died.
The house beat was hot at Ra’s. We were deep inside the pyramid at Luxor, dancing under the spread wings of the Egyptian god.
Bernardo was a dancing fiend, and I laughed as I worked to keep up with him. The night had been great. We’d started at the Barbary Coast, eating dinner at Rai’s before coming here to dance. The plan was to head to the Bellagio later for more dancing, and then end up with drinks before—whatever we ended up doing.
Flashes of light strobed through the darkness, giving me brief glimpses of Bernardo and his friends and their dates. I felt a little uneasy about their dates. I suspected that some of them were rentals.
My heart matched the heavy beat around me, and I loved the feel of the little silk shift as it slid around my thighs. It was hard to tell in the throbbing darkness, but I could have sworn that Susu was on the dance floor, too. Wishful thinking.
I stumbled a little, and Bernardo grabbed my arm.
“Hey, baby. Take it easy. You could fall down.” He had to yell the words into my ear, his lips brushing my cheek. My nipples got hard. The guy was my height and all muscle.
His arm was around my waist and we were dancing closer, but my eyes were scanning back and forth, looking for my sister.
I spotted her again a few minutes later, and the same flash of red light illuminated Rod, dancing with his eyes closed and his head thrown back. What a dork. What did she see in him?
She didn’t see me. I pulled against Bernardo and we danced closer to them.
Rod saw me. I know because he looked scared, then angry. He grabbed Susu and said something in her ear.
The next flash of light showed a startled Susu, looking around wildly. What did she think, that I was going to knock her out and toss her over my shoulder?
For a second I considered it. Bernardo and his friends could definitely help me tote her home. I could tie her up, duct tape her mouth, and put her on a plane. On the other hand, Homeland Security wouldn’t let me take a ticking bomb on board the plane, and Susu was definitely explosive.
I danced closer to her. Bernardo good-naturedly bounced along behind me.
“Susu, we need to talk,” I yelled.
She grinned and twirled, moving her hips to the beat. College Boy jerked along like a balloon on a string. Dork.
I matched my sister’s rhythm. “I talked to Carl.”
“So
what?” Yelling while she jumped took all the inflection out of her voice.
“So did you get my phone message?”
“No. No phone message. What did you want?”
I glared at College Boy. “I left you a message earlier today. Rod must have deleted it.”
She laughed. “Probably did.”
“And you don’t care? If I did that you’d massacre me. You’d call me irresponsible.”
The music had moved on to another dance tune, but the beat stayed the same. Bernardo and Rod danced around us, but we were face-to-face, dancing hard and yelling to be heard over the ear-pounding house jam.
Susu appeared and disappeared with the changing lights. It was the most surreal conversation I’d ever had.
“I don’t care what Carl says, I’m not coming back until I’m ready, which may be never.” She danced away and then danced back. “And by the time he comes here, I’ll have moved on.”
“Doesn’t College Boy have to go back to school?”
Rod must have been close enough to hear, because he scowled at me.
Susu looked at him, then looked at me. “Okay. You want to talk? We’ll talk.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me off the dance floor.
Bernardo started to grab at me, too, but I waved him away. Susu didn’t do the same to Rod because he stalked out after us.
We ducked into the restroom alcove.
I pulled away from her grip, but she held on. “You’re hurting me, Susu.”
“I’m hurting you? You are in my face everywhere I go. Why can’t you leave me alone?”
“Okay, so your husband wants you back and you’re not playing. That’s cool. Your marriage is your business. But what about the kids?”
“So now you’re the ethics police? You?” She laughed.
“What? Why is that funny?” Rod was hovering. I looked at him. “Bud, what is it about you that’s so hot? I’m not getting it.”
Rod gave me a look. “Why don’t you go home? Your sister is an adult. Leave her alone.”
“She’s married.”
“Look around you. This is freakin’ Las Vegas. Most of the people around here are married. Not to each other.”
He had a point.
Susu rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. She doesn’t care if I’m married or not. She wants me to go home because she’s feeling bad and wants a little home cooking.”
“So untrue.” Damn. Did she know me, or what? “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Rod won’t hurt me. He’s a decent man. He’s been offered a job with the Defense Department.”
Rod grinned and nodded, proud of himself.
“He’s not the one I think will hurt you. You’re hurting yourself. You’re ruining your marriage, you’ve abandoned your kids.”
“I have not. They’re safe with their father.” She gave me the eyebrow. “Come on, Rod. I’ve still got some dancing left in me.”
Bernardo stuck his head in the hallway. “Is this a private party?”
Susu twirled her fingers in his short, crispy curls as she walked by. “Come on in, handsome. We were just leaving.”
“Baby, you don’t have to leave.” He pointed after her as she and Rod left. “That’s your bad-ass sister?”
“That’s my goody two shoes sister. I’m the bad-ass in the family.”
He watched Susu twitch her ass back to the dance floor. Her skirt was about six inches of green leather with a little gauze for a top. Rod strutted next to her. And she’d called me a slut?
“I think you lost that title.”
I put my arm through Bernardo’s. I wasn’t worried. I’d have it back before morning.
Chapter 5
Someone was banging on the door. I opened one eye and glared at the clock. Three A.M. This was not some wild Las Vegas–style wake-up call.
I was too exhausted to be worried. I closed my eyes and lay still, enjoying the weight of the covers, the feel of the expensive sheets against my skin. I’d enjoy this for just a little bit more and then I’d call the police.
The banging continued, now punctuated with someone yelling my name. Bernardo. He’d only left an hour ago. He probably forgot something, and I was about to give him hell for waking me up. I jumped up and flung open the door.
“What was it, your wallet?”
Chris Patterson’s eyes widened as he took in my outfit, or lack thereof. “Do I need it?”
“Isn’t it a little late to pay a visit?”
“You look like you’re ready for company.” His eyes were clamped on my breasts. I glanced down. My nipples were waving at him through my thin knit camisole. Traitors.
“I was ready for bed.”
“That’s what I said.” He started to push past me, but I blocked his way. Unfortunately, it brought us into full frontal contact. Well, the “unfortunate” part is open for debate. Big brother Chris had a hard body, long and lean, the way I like it. All thoughts of Bernardo slipped away. The bad-ass title was mine once more, in spades.
He’d put a hand on my waist to push me aside, but it was starting to slip down over my hip and toward happier places. I lifted my face, ready to let him have it. A kiss or a scream, depending on his next move.
He shoved me aside. I screamed.
He whirled to face me. “Shut up. It’s three o’clock in the morning. You’ll wake everyone up.”
“Me? You’re the one that barged in here.”
“Where’s your sister?” He looked under the king-sized bed.
“I’m not into threesomes, incest, or girls. She’s with your brother, in their own room, their own bed.” I looked at the clock radio pointedly. “Normal people sleep, you know.”
I glanced at the open door, half expecting Bernardo to reappear, wishing he really had left something.
Chris followed my gaze and smirked. “I get it. You were expecting someone else.” He started looking around, as if he was the head cop in a crime scene. “Are all these yours?” He’d opened a drawer and was sorting through my new underwear. He opened another drawer and pulled out an immense cotton panty, one of Susu’s old ones.
He held it up, brows raised in astonishment.
I snatched it out of his fingers. “Excuse me, that’s not yours.” I heard my voice rising, taking on a Fran Drescherish tone. I hate it when it does that. “Someone left that here in the room.”
I slammed the drawer shut. “You need to leave, Chris. We’ll talk tomorrow morning at breakfast and come up with a plan for getting our sibs back, but I need my beauty sleep.”
He looked me up and down. “I’m thinking you don’t need to improve a single thing.” He grinned at me. “So where’s your sister? What’s her name? Frou Frou?”
“Susu. Short for Susana. If you want to talk to her, call her. Just call the front desk and they’ll put you through to their room.” Daring him to do so, I went to the telephone on the little square nightstand to the right of my huge bed. I dialed the front desk. Chris pulled open another drawer, lifting out tops and staring at the tags that were still attached.
“Expensive taste you’ve got, Miss Anita.”
“Rod Patterson’s room, please…Yes, of course. This is Anita Suarez.” I turned and caught him staring appraisingly at my backside. I was wearing one of my new thongs, a black satin one with little black cords that tied at the side. He seemed to be fascinated by the little rhinestone bow that joined the cords in the back. I yanked down on the hem of my camisole, trying to cover it, but my breasts popped out.
“Does that say ‘Cutie’?”
“You shouldn’t read a girl’s backside. It’s not polite.”
He was staring, open-mouthed. “Not polite to look at what’s in my face?” He pulled out the giant granny panties. “Maybe you should wear these instead.”
“No way.” He’d already seen just about everything I had. I figured covering up would be false modesty, so I went to the bathroom to check out my hair and slipped into the high heels I’d abandoned by the sink.
/> “I’ll bet your sister’s just like you.” His voice trailed off in a moan. “My poor brother doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Your poor brother is getting a job with the Defense Department, according to my sis. He can take care of himself.”
“They scouted him,” Chris said proudly, trying, and failing, to not look at my breasts.
“That’s awesome. If he’s old enough to keep the country safe, he’s old enough to spend a weekend in Las Vegas without Big Brother coming to bail him out.”
“He’s never met anyone like her. He doesn’t know—”
I’d had it. “Doesn’t know what?” My fists were on my hips and I was starting to shake. “What fork to use at dinner? How to avoid the phone when you’re hanging with a married woman?”
“Married?” The word seemed to be a revelation to him.
“Yeah. Married. With two kids and a husband who’s probably too good for her.”
Chris grinned. “Whose side are you on?”
“The side that will keep me happy, cowboy.” And right now this big guy constituted my side. “You’re treating me like the enemy, but we’re after the same thing. To get our sibs back on track and out of Vegas.”
“True, but you aren’t being helpful. Does her husband have a gun?”
“No. Not if you don’t count the 30.06. But he uses that mainly for deer.”
Chris looked so freaked out that I laughed and told him I was kidding. Actually, Carl had a whole gun safe full of weapons. But he kept them locked up, out of the reach of kids and visitors, and it would never occur to him to use them on anyone, even an intruder. Besides, Homeland Security would stop him at the airport.
“We should work together.” He spoke suddenly, as if my thought had entered his mind through my psychic percolator.
“Sure.” I sat on the bed and stared at my fingernails, not anxious to be found out. “When did that idea come to you, exactly?”
He ignored me. “This husband of hers, what’s he to you?”
The question was so unexpected that my head shot up and I looked into his face. He was staring at me, his expression solemn and angry.
“He’s my brother-in-law, that’s what, you perv.”
“Perv? Me? I’m salt of the earth.” He sat on the bed next to me. “As a matter of fact, I didn’t really believe you had a thing with your brother-in-law. But something’s up. You and your sister are not normal.”
Names I Call My Sister Page 8
