“Who is this lovely creature?”
“Braxton, this is my girlfriend, Bailey.” He slid an arm around her waist, disgusted at the male pride that made him instinctively claim her as his own. But he’d be damned if Braxton got the idea to hit on her.
“Nice to meet you,” Bailey said, politely sticking her hand out and blinking in surprise when Braxton brought her knuckles to his lips.
“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” In the blink of an eye, Braxton had gone from being an unapologetic hot mess to a total lady-killer. “You look absolutely stunning. That dress is very becoming.”
Bailey bristled as if he’d insulted rather than complimented her, and it was then that Lance noticed the redness in her eyes. Had she been crying?
“Thank you.” Her tone was flat.
“Everything okay?” Lance asked, leaning down.
“Of course.” Her lips formed a smile but the corners of her eyes didn’t crinkle the way they usually did and her body was stiff in his arms. “I’m a little tired.”
“New relationship, huh?” Braxton winked. “The honeymoon period is my favorite part. That’s probably why I can’t seem to get past it.”
“You did get married though,” Lance pointed out.
“Only because she was nagging me something fierce. I never wanted to get married.” Braxton raked a hand through his hair, his true age showing on his face for a second before the camera-ready smile was back in place. “I never promised her a ring.”
“Perhaps she felt as if you implied it with the way you behaved,” Bailey said out of nowhere, her voice taut.
“The words never came out of my mouth. All she heard was what she wanted to hear.” Braxton shook his head. “That damn girl was living in a fantasy world thinking we’d get married and have a white picket fence kind of life. It’s not me.”
A tremor ran through Bailey and Lance rubbed his hand up and down her arm. Her blue eyes were stormy and she gnawed on her lower lip as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Something was definitely up.
“Well, maybe she thought she loved you,” she said, her small hands clenching and unclenching by her sides. “Maybe she thought you loved her back.”
“Just ‘cause I loved her doesn’t mean she’s right for me.”
“Oh, because you think you can find someone better, someone more exciting,” she snapped.
“Okay, it’s time for a trip to the refreshment table.” Lance steered Bailey away from a bewildered Braxton before looking back over his shoulder. “Please excuse us for a moment.”
He ushered her out of the crowd toward the refreshment table. Without asking, he scooped some of the fruity punch into a cup and handed it to her. “What on earth is going on?”
Chapter Ten
Bailey tried to breathe normally but the tight bodice on the dress was restricting her lungs. Pressing her hands to her ribcage, she sucked in a long, slow breath. Time to take stock of what the hell was going on.
So far, Vegas had turned into a giant shit storm. Not only had she not gotten the watch back, but she’d given Julian a chance to humiliate her for a second time. And she’d set herself up for further failure by developing feelings for her one-night stand slash partner in sort-of-crime.
“Bailey, talk to me.” Lance placed a hand on her shoulder. “Please.”
She sipped her drink. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I hope I didn’t ruin your deal with Braxton.”
“Don’t worry about that. He’s had a few drinks. He won’t even remember you in the morning.”
She let out a humorless laugh. “Why would he?”
Lance shook his head. “That came out wrong. What I meant to say is that he won’t remember the conversation and I certainly won’t bring it up.”
“What would be the point of that? I’ll be heading home tomorrow and we won’t see each other ever again.” The thought of such finality between them made her stomach twist and she set her drink down. “I mean, it’s not like this is anything that’s going to continue.”
He frowned. “Well, we could always exchange numbers and grab a coffee back home. I mean, we do live in the same city and it…might be nice.”
This was probably one of those conversations where she was hearing what she wanted to hear. An offer to swap numbers wasn’t a sign that he wanted to see her again. It was an obligation. The cushioning under her ass as he let her down.
Unless he was hoping for a pity fuck. God, how could she have been so stupid? That damn workshop had gotten into her head and she’d bought into the airy, fairy “love yourself” bullshit.
She smoothed her hands over the full skirt of her dress and steeled herself. All those years she’d been an outcast at school had taught her one thing—never let them see you cry. “That’s not necessary.”
“I know it’s not necessary.” Lance’s gray-green eyes shifted color like moving storm clouds. “Bailey, I don’t say things I don’t mean. It would be good to see you when we get home.”
No, he’s just trying to be a nice guy. Don’t fall for it.
Nothing he could say now would change her mind. She wouldn’t be like Braxton’s ex-wife. She wouldn’t be the stupid girl who’d dated Julian for a whole year thinking that she was loved. And she most certainly wouldn’t give Lance the opportunity to break her heart.
The watch might not be coming home with her, but at least she’d have a few more life lessons tucked into her back pocket. A few more examples of why she should stick to the things she was good at—numbers, calculations, facts.
She would not be humiliated again.
“Look, Lance. You gave me the spiel about you not being a long-term guy yesterday and I get it. I really do.” She pressed a hand to his chest. “The last thing I want is another relationship with a guy who doesn’t know what he wants. I’m not doing that again.”
He raised a brow. “Right.”
Hang on. He hadn’t even said anything about a relationship. He’d simply asked her to swap numbers so they could grab a coffee and she’d jumped straight to the “I can’t be with you” spiel. It was clear she didn’t need a guy to humiliate her. She could do that all by herself.
Dammit, why hadn’t she queued up for social skills the day they were handing those out?
“Something has obviously happened in the short time we’ve been in here. Why don’t you tell me what it is?” He raked a hand through his short hair. “Did you run into Julian?”
How could she tell him that she’d failed to get the watch from her ex again? It was a good thing she couldn’t read minds because he was probably thinking how crazy stupid she was. And if she told him the truth, then what? Being the kind of guy she’d seen him to be so far, he would want to go after Julian and teach him a lesson.
And then what? Lance needed to go and smooth over her freak-out with Braxton, not spend his evening worrying about her inability to get the job done.
“I got the watch back,” she lied. “That’s why I was gone so long. I had to run it up to the room. You know, for safe keeping.”
“That’s great.” His eyes lit up. “Fat lot of good I was helping you out.”
“Your pep-talk last night helped.” She forced herself to smile. “And jumping on the bed. I had fun.”
She left out the bit about how he’d damn near melted her insides with how mind-blowing her orgasms had been that afternoon. Surely that went without saying?
“Me, too.” He reached out to her but she took a small step back, not enough to draw attention to them but enough to send him a message.
“I should probably get going unless you need me to convince Janet of anything else?”
“Get going, like upstairs?”
“Like getting on a plane.” She bunched her hands into the fabric of her dress to keep herself from touching him, “and going home.”
…
No. The protest lodged in his windpipe, his fingers itching to reach out and haul her to him. But what right did he have to do that?<
br />
They’d fulfilled their agreement—she had her watch and he’d commenced redeeming himself with Janet. Tomorrow the convention would be over, he’d seal the deal with Braxton at the luncheon, and then everything would be back on track. A big client would mean more visibility for his work and a shot at a promotion at the next round of performance appraisals.
And then what? More of the same? Work, mindless dating, more work, sleeping with women to scratch an itch. His life had become a hamster wheel, a never-ending cycle of chasing the next thing. There was no satisfaction in that.
“Can I at least walk you back up to the room?” he asked.
“What about your new client?”
He looked over to where Braxton was chatting to one of the other Take Two guys and some petite blonde that Lance didn’t recognize. “Give me a minute to make sure Braxton will be at the luncheon tomorrow and I’ll meet you out front.”
“Sure.” She nodded.
After checking in with Braxton—and determining that there was little chance he’d remember his own name in the morning, much less Bailey’s outburst—Lance made sure he and his agent were lined up to attend the Take Two luncheon. Janet was attempting to dance some kind of waltz with another Take Two staff member and was stumbling in her heels. The ball looked as though it was starting to get messy, so no one would even notice he was gone.
Bailey was waiting in the exact spot he’d left her a moment ago. “Ready?” He held his arm out.
She slipped her hand over his forearm but didn’t snuggle against him like she had earlier. “As I’ll ever be.”
They walked out of the ball, dodging two girls who were teetering precariously on high heels. “I only had the punch,” one of them said, her words trailing off into a fit of giggles.
“Looks like things are about to get crazy in there,” he said as they wove through the crowded floor in the direction of the elevators. Masked faces dotted the crowd—some elegant and beautiful, some ghastly.
Mercifully, there wasn’t a queue for the elevators and when one arrived, a group of ladies in colorful dresses piled out but he and Bailey were the only ones going in. The doors closed with a ding and they were alone, in relative silence.
He watched the display illuminating the number of the floors as they whooshed up. Turning over the confused bundle of thoughts in his mind, he grappled for something to say that conveyed how he felt…which wasn’t easy, since he wasn’t totally sure what that was.
“Did Vegas live up to your expectations?” Lame, but at least it broke the excruciation tension between them.
Bailey leaned against the back of the elevator, her hands knotted white-knuckled in front of her. “Yes and no. It was as outlandish as I expected, but I’m ready to go home. I think it’s all a little too bright and shiny for me.”
“You prefer quieter places?”
“Yeah.” Her pink lips tilted. “I might live in the city now but I think there’s always part of me that will prefer the quiet small town life. If only there were some way to have both.”
“A city apartment and a country house?” Sounded like heaven to him.
“Why aren’t you married, Lance?” She looked at him closely, her eyes tracking every movement he made. The blue of her irises was so penetrating it felt as if she could see everything going on inside his head. “You seem like you’d be a great husband.”
The question caught him off-guard and her compliment even more so. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. Most of the time a question like that was followed by a lecture or at the very least a wink and a nudge. But no one had ever seen him as more than a guy who refused to be tied down.
“My parents are married, happily so. They’ve been together for almost forty years.” His parents were two average people with average lives who’d made his childhood so filled with love despite the fact that he’d always been difficult. Rowdy, unfocused. A bit of a disappointment. Which was exactly why he wanted to make partner at Take Two, then he’d finally be able to prove to his parents that their efforts hadn’t been wasted on him.
“And that made you not want to get married?”
“I guess it’s that they set the bar so high. I haven’t ever been able to feel the way about someone that they feel about each other.”
Except you.
The automatic response ran through him like the aftershocks of an earthquake. It was impossible to think that he was starting to fall for a girl he’d only met yesterday. Those kinds of things only happened in movies…and romance novels.
He looked at the poster on the inside of the elevator that advertised the convention. Books were sometimes based on real life, right?
“And you refuse to settle.” A look of begrudging respect flittered over Bailey’s face. The elevator dinged and they stepped out of the elevator.
“I know that makes me seem like the bastard everyone says I am, but I don’t want second best.” The hallway was eerily quiet. No one passed them as they walked to the room and Lance had the feeling that he was walking toward a crossroads. “When I find the right person, I want it to be forever.”
“I think you’ve been reading too many romance novels,” she quipped, though her feet fell quickly on the carpet as she propelled them towards the room. “If you find the end of a rainbow no leprechaun will jump out and give you a pot of gold.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She set her lips into a firm line as they reached the door. “The girls you date shouldn’t be put through constant rejection while you make up your mind about what true love means. Spare a little thought to how they feel.”
Digging her hand into the tight bustier of her dress, she pulled out her room key. The door was open before he’d pulled himself together enough to react, but he followed her in and let it slam shut behind him.
“I do spare a thought for them. That’s why I end things quickly if I know it’s not going anywhere. Isn’t that the best thing to do?” His jaw clenched. He knew other people viewed him as selfish, but hearing the words come out of her mouth hurt him like a blade to the heart. “And I tell them up front not to expect anything.”
“I bet that makes them feel really special,” Bailey said quietly, her eyes shimmering as she reached behind her head to undo the mask.
Noise filled his head as he ground his teeth. This wasn’t the way he’d envisaged finishing things with Bailey…although, if he were being truthful, for some reason he hadn’t envisaged it at all.
“I know I’m not perfect,” he said.
She let out a frustrated huff as she tugged at the back of her mask, so he stepped behind her and gently brushed her hands aside. The knot was tight as if the mask resisted being done for the night. He toyed with the ribbon, his fingers moving her hair and making that sweet, clean scent waft upward. But eventually the knot gave and she pulled the mask away, stepping forward as if she couldn’t get away fast enough.
“Except you are, and I think that’s part of the problem.” She bit down on her lip. “Thanks for spending the weekend with me and for helping me to see things clearly.”
Nervous energy ran through his veins. He wanted to punch a wall and draw her into his arms at the same time. How had this quirky, wonderful woman gotten under his skin so quickly?
“Can I call you when we get back to San Francisco?” he asked.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She shook her head. “Besides, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?”
“How about you call me.” He pulled a business card out of his jacket pocket and held it out to her. “If you want to get together.”
She looked at the card. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
“No need to commit to anything. Take my number and if you call, I’ll answer.” A tiny kernel of hope lit in his chest when she finally took the card from his hands.
He wanted nothing more than to push his hands into her hair and kiss her senseless, kiss her until she decided to stay. Or, at the
very least, until she promised that they would meet up again. But that would make him a hypocrite after his spiel about not making promises he couldn’t keep. And Lance was many things, but he wasn’t that.
It’s out of your hands and now you can focus on more important things…like landing Braxton St. John and getting promoted. You know, the stuff you really care about.
But as he watched Bailey gather her things, he wondered whether he’d gotten his priorities all mixed up.
…
Bailey sat at the airport gate awaiting her return flight to San Francisco, kneading the knots in her calf. Despite changing into her work outfit from yesterday, she could still feel the ghost of the masquerade mask on her skin. A whisper of Lance’s hands as he’d tied the ribbon—making her feel so cherished and beautiful.
She tried to concentrate on the way her feet ached from wearing leather pumps for hours on end. But a few blisters weren’t much compared to the soul-deep emptiness she felt walking away from Lance. True to how he’d handled everything since she’d met him, he’d been a total gentleman.
He’d carried her things down to the street and tried to give her money for her flight, which she’d refused. Why couldn’t he have come along before she’d gotten all messed up in the head?
She turned his business card over in her hands. It was simply designed with the Take Two company logo in the corner and the words “Lance Fulton, Senior Image Consultant” in a classy serif font. Their business address was printed at the bottom. She knew the building. It was only a few blocks from the banking offices where she worked.
Had they ever passed one another in the street? Had they been jammed into a packed cable car, their shoulders touching while she tried not to notice how good he smelled? Maybe she’d stood behind him in line at Starbucks, admiring his broad back and sandy-blond hair.
It boggled her mind to think that they’d been so close and yet it had taken a crazy weekend in Vegas for their paths to cross. She’d never believed in fate because it seemed like something that people relied on when they didn’t want to take responsibility for the future. Now she wasn’t so sure.
Loving the Odds (What Happens in Vegas) Page 10
