Sin City Vows

by Zuri Day

  “It’s everything we’ve already discussed. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

  “If that’s what you want.” Christian’s phone rang. “Excuse me.”

  Lauren was grateful for the interruption even as she reached for her own phone, rarely used while in Africa. She’d become more and more uncomfortable with Christian’s probing questions about Ed. The fewer people who knew about the “arranged marriage” that her father desired, the better.

  She turned on her phone and while it powered up looked out the window at the familiar Las Vegas skyline, the hotels along the Strip, CANN the most grandiose—a gleaming mass of steel and glass jutting into the sky—and was surprised to feel as though she were coming home. Although she’d only been in Vegas a short time, she already felt like she belonged there, more so than she’d felt after years on the East Coast.

  That revelation was much too complicated to mentally process, because she knew that the feeling had everything to do with the man beside her. The man she could see herself easily falling in love with, and also the last man she should date. At least now, while her life was in such turmoil.

  The plane touched down just after noon on the West Coast. She said goodbye to the crew and the pilot while Christian was preoccupied, and then began checking a slew of text messages and noting missed calls. Was there something wrong? Her brow furrowed as he assisted her down the stairs.

  “Back to the real world,” he said.

  “Yep.” She continued scrolling her phone.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I hope so.”

  They reached Christian’s car. During the short ride to the guesthouse she was quiet, listening to messages left by several people, including her friend Avery and her mom. He pulled into the drive, put the car in Park and jumped out to get her luggage from the trunk. He wheeled it up to the door and after she’d entered the code, rolled them inside.

  She turned to him with a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

  “Where do you want them?” he asked.

  “Here is fine,” she replied, with a wave across the living room area.

  “Sure you don’t want them in your bedroom?”

  She shrugged. “I guess that would be better.”

  “Sure you don’t want to join me in the bedroom?”

  “Stop it, Christian. We’ve already had that discussion, the outcome of which does not involve bedrooms.”

  “You can’t knock a brother for trying.”

  “No, but I can knock a brother out for making the attempt.”

  They laughed. He pulled her into his arms. “I forgot, the wildcat.”

  “No, a bear.”

  “Dangerous either way.” After a tender squeeze, he released her. “Thank you for joining me in Djibouti. Your presence made the trip infinitely more pleasurable, and not just physically. Your beauty is only outshone by your intelligence.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “This isn’t bullshit,” he said. “I’m serious. You’re an amazing woman and I’m lucky... CANN International is lucky to have you on our team. So I’ll say it again. Thank you...for everything.”

  His words were so heartfelt and tender, they almost drew tears. Lauren covered the emotion by reaching for the crutch and heading toward the door.

  “You’re very welcome, Mr. Breedlove,” she said as she opened it for him to walk through. “The pleasure was totally and completely mine, but from now on, it’s back to work.”

  Lauren closed the door and leaned against it, willing herself not to cry at what could never be. The missed text messages and phone calls she’d read upon landing were the sobering reminder needed to snap back to reality and get a handle on what was going on. She walked into the bedroom, tapped the phone’s screen and called her mom. The familiar message of Faye not being available encouraged her to leave a message at the sound of the beep. She didn’t. Instead she ended the call and scrolled to Avery’s number. She put the call on speaker and peeled off her clothes, donning a short silk robe when Avery answered.

  “It’s about time!”

  Lauren laughed. “I just got home.”

  “How dare you send me a text about exotic travels and private planes and then be unavailable for the next week!”

  “I guess I should have waited.”

  “No, then I would have been angry that you’d left me out. But I’m here now. Tell me everything!”

  Lauren gave a condensed recap of her trip to Djibouti. “I can honestly say I’ve never felt so happy, yet completely conflicted at the same time.”

  A flood of emotions poured through Lauren, making her mind roil and her heart ache. But obsessing over what it all meant would have to wait, she realized, checking the face of her cell phone as the text indicator pinged.

  “Avery, listen, I’ve got to go.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  “I’ll call you later, promise.”

  Lauren meant every word. She was sure that later she’d need someone to talk to. She tapped her cell phone’s face again and read the text her mom had sent. The second one after explaining she couldn’t talk because she was at the library doing research. She read it again, slowly, mouthing the incredible words.

  Honey, your dad is in Vegas. And Ed is with him.

  And just like that, the dream of a week she’d just spent with Christian crashed into the nightmare that she’d briefly escaped. Lauren sat stunned. What were they doing here? There was only one way to find out. She called her dad’s cell phone. Paul must have been sitting right by it. He picked up on the first ring.

  She was exhausted from all the travel and all the lovemaking and belatedly realized that maybe she should have waited to make the call. But there was no getting around it. A face-to-face showdown with both Dad and Ed was inevitable.

  “Lauren, where are you?”

  “Dad, why are you here?” She felt her question was the one that mattered. “And why is Ed with you?” The answer to that mattered even more.

  “Lorrie, we need to talk.”

  No, not the term of endearment he’d used since she was a child, the only one allowed to call her by that name. It came out in the rush of a relieved breath, and wafted through the phone to her heart, gripping it gently.

  She tapped the speaker button, sat on the edge of her bed. “Dad...”

  “I have been worried sick about you.”

  “Why?”

  “First you take a job without my knowing about it, then flee the East Coast with barely a goodbye. Now I hear you’re traveling to God only knows where with that Breedlove character, a playboy from what I hear, who seems to go through women the way an omelet maker goes through eggs. This type of behavior is so unlike you. You’ve never acted this way before.”

  “I’ve never felt pressured into marriage before!” The words, delivered with missile-like precision, were regretted within syllables of their leaving her mouth. But they were true, and while she’d never want to hurt her father, his actions had caused her heart to bleed.

  “Lorrie, I need to see you. Tonight.”

  “I’ll talk to you, but not him.”

  A long silence and then, “All right. Should I come to you?”

  “No. I’ll come to you. Where are you staying?”

  “The CANN.”

  Of course. “What room?” He told her. “Okay, fine. I’ll be there in an hour. And I mean it, Daddy. You’d better be alone.”

  An hour later she pulled into the valet area. This was the first instance she’d entered through the main lobby entrance. She was struck by its vast grandeur and elegant style. At once modern and classic, with Victoria’s imprint everywhere.

  She reached the elevator and pushed the button, trying to forget why she was here. Each time she remembered her heartbeat quickened, and a sickening knot began to form in her
gut. Who knew? Maybe this visit was about the business project between Ed and her dad and had nothing to do with this arranged marriage nonsense. That thought brought a good feeling, so much so that when she reached the fourteenth floor and headed toward the room number her father had given, she allowed herself to get just a little excited about the upcoming visit. She was going to see her dad!

  Lauren arrived at the room and announced her presence with a rhythmic rat-ta-tat-tat. The door opened and there stood Paul Hart, eyes bright, mouth taut, a little slimmer than she remembered.

  “Hi, Dad.” She stepped into the room and into his embrace, her eyes misting unexpectedly at the familiar woodsy fragrance of his cologne. She held him at arm’s length and looked him over. “Have you lost weight?”

  “Perhaps a pound or two,” he said. He smiled and crinkles appeared at the sides of his eyes. He stepped back and eyed the blinged-out sock London had given her. “Faye told me about your ankle. How is it?”

  “Better every day.”

  “A horse threw you, correct?”

  “Yes. She got spooked by a snake and I couldn’t hang on. First time I’d handled reins in years.”

  “I remember how you used to love it, though. You learned on Robert’s old nag, remember?”

  Lauren thought about the ramshackle farm in Georgia, the one owned by her dad and her uncle Robert’s father. The one that left the family’s hands when Robert ran into financial problems and her father refused to bail him out. Lauren was saddened at losing the family land but couldn’t blame her father. He’d bailed out Uncle Robert a lot.

  “You look beautiful, Lorrie, though a little tired around the eyes. Are you being overworked?”

  “I’m fine.” With a limp barely noticeable, she took in the room as she walked over to the sitting area by the window—two high-backed chairs framing a round metal table covered with glass. The king-size bed looked grand and imposing, its brass-studded headboard with tufted black fabric covering a mattress that seemed to promise a heavenly night’s sleep. It was a comfort her hardworking father deserved yet one that, given his sensible spending, surprised her. This single king-size room went for an average of two thousand dollars a night.

  “I can understand why you chose the CANN but given the room rates, I’m surprised that you did.”

  “The company’s paying for it, honey. My money doesn’t stretch this far.”

  “So this is a business trip.”

  “Yes and no.” Paul reached for a tumbler on a minibar counter Lauren just realized was there. She frowned slightly as he came over and sat down. Her father enjoyed a good, neat scotch and cigar as well as the next guy but usually only once in a while, after dinner, late at night. That it was midday and no food had been served caused a slight nervous flutter to return to her stomach.

  “Dad, why are you here?”

  “As I said before, we need to talk.”

  “What is so important that couldn’t be discussed by phone?”

  “Your future and making sure the choices you make are the right ones. When Faye told me you’d left the country with that notorious playboy, well, I knew you weren’t thinking clearly.”

  “I’m a big girl, Daddy, a grown woman in fact. My mind is clear. I can take care of myself.”

  “Men like Breedlove are dangerous. You need someone sensible and grounded, who’ll keep you safe in a loving home.”

  “And you think that’s Ed?” Lauren snorted.

  “Yes, I think that’s Ed. And before you use my predicament as an excuse, this is not just about the money I owe. Over the past several months, I’ve had time to make my own observations. Ed is pragmatic and responsible, and he has loved you for a very long time. He believes that you two can be a power couple, that together our families can create a dynasty of generational wealth. Now, I don’t know what happened years ago when you dated, but I think he’s deserving of another chance.”

  “Dad, you’ve never cared one iota about who I’ve dated,” she scoffed. “How can I not assume that your taking a loan from Ed has something to do with this new glowing view of him?”

  “That I’ve never cared is not true. I’ve always been concerned, you just didn’t know it. Ask your mother. She’ll tell you. A secure future for my girls is all I’ve ever wanted. Thomas is a good man. Perfect for Renee.”

  She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “And you think Ed is perfect for me.”

  “Ed has become like a son to me. The one I’ve always wanted.”

  “Then I suggest you work something out with his dad, some kind of bilateral adoption so that he can join the family. An annoying older brother? Now that I can imagine. But a power couple, or any couple, Dad, that’s not going to happen. When it comes to Ed Miller I couldn’t be less interested. I am not going to date him. I am not going to marry him. There is nothing you can say that will make me change my mind.”

  A slight click, and then movement caught the corner of Lauren’s eye. Ed was coming toward them, obviously from an adjoining room.

  “I think there is something that might sway you, dear,” he said with a sickening smile. “Paul, do you want to tell her? Or should I?”

  Sixteen

  Christian knew there were several issues that required his attention that day but decided to work from home. He reached for the vibrating phone on his desk, looked at the number and sighed. Evidently the word had gotten out about Lauren joining him in Africa. He hadn’t told her during their trip, but his phones had been blowing up with calls from half a dozen other women he’d casually dated in the past. Females who’d agreed to no-strings-attached friendships but had secretly hoped they might become Mrs. B.

  That his private life hadn’t remained private was extremely annoying. When it came to promoting the business, Christian lived for the camera, searched out chances for positive PR. Which made him even more guarded when it came to his private life. The less anyone outside of his family knew, the better.

  No doubt Chloe was behind the leak that could only have led to rampant gossip. She always managed to know his business. If Christian ever discovered her source, that person would be fired immediately.

  He leaned against the back of his chair, locked his fingers behind his head and turned to stare out the window at the peacocks dotting his backyard. He watched a pair of peahens walk by the three peacocks he’d personally chosen from a breeder in California. Similar to their human counterparts, when females were about, the cocks immediately began strutting their stuff, spreading their plumage in all its glory.

  Christian smiled as the peahens continued across the yard to a fountain designed to not only provide them continuous water but to power an Old West water wheel churning into a koi pond. The age-old dance of court and conquer continued. The game had changed, he mused, thinking of the calls he’d ignored. These days, it was sometimes the woman shaking her tail feathers in hopes of attracting the man.

  His thoughts drifted to the past couple years and the types of women he’d dated. And the years before that when he’d been the peacock, when his trust had been tested and broken.

  Chloe. Who’d claimed to be pregnant, and wasn’t. Pamela, who’d been snapped by a tabloid wearing a huge diamond ring and had hinted it was an engagement ring from Christian. It wasn’t, and the lie led to the breakup with Erica, a Bahamian beauty, who at that time he thought was the love of his life. Natalie, who’d filed a felonious police report in an attempt to extort five million dollars from his family.

  That nonsense with Natalie was the final straw that caused Christian to declare he’d never trust a woman again. Moreover, it had propelled him to set very clear boundaries with the women he dated, and brought on the need for confidentiality and nondisclosure agreements and women being vetted before they could enter his world.

  His phone vibrated again. He didn’t want to answer the call but pulled himself away from the win
dow and crossed to the desk. Lauren. He smiled. The peahen who’d made him once again want to stick out his chest and spread his feathers, the one who not once had made him think about contracts and vetting.

  A while back he’d wondered what it was about her that he found so intriguing. In this moment the answer came clearly: Lauren wanted nothing from him. He pressed the speaker button and answered the call.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Hey, hubby.”

  Her voice was sexy, seductive, made his manhood throb and reminded him of...wait. Did she say hubby?

  “Sorry to bother you. I know you’re working. But I’m here with my dad and he doesn’t believe we got married.”

  Christian pulled the phone away from his ear and rechecked the name. Yes, it was the number he’d locked in the night of the fashion show, with a picture he’d snapped of Lauren lounging at his home in Djibouti, smiling from the screen. To say he was confused was an understatement. Was she trying to play a joke?

  “Ed is here, too.” Ed? A former boyfriend? “Ed Miller, my ex, the one I told you about in Djibouti.”

  The words made Christian’s heart squeeze, along with the sound of subtle panic in Lauren’s voice. It was high and bright and overly girlie, not the low, sometimes monotone quality he’d grown to love.

  And she’d called him hubby. Said they’d gotten married. Something was going on. But what?

  “Where are you?”

  “At the ho—”

  “Lauren?” He looked at the screen. It was black. The call had dropped. Or had it been disconnected? Was she okay? Why had her father come to town and brought her ex with him? His mind reeling with all the possible implications, he impatiently hit redial. The call rang and rang and finally went to voice mail. He hung up and tried again. Same thing. He called the hotel.

  “Thank you for calling CANN, America’s first seven-star hotel. My name is Zena. How may I help make your day amazing?”

  “Zena, this is Chris Breedlove. I need to be connected to...” In this moment he realized he didn’t know the name of Lauren’s dad. “To a Mr. Hart.”