CHAPTER THREE: in which they meet in the present- VEGAS

Present day

VEGAS

After he handed the car keys to the waiting valet, he turned to look at me. As usual, his eyes lit up, filling me with wonderment.

“You look great tonight, Vegas.”

“Thank you, Terence.”

Circling his arm around my waist, he guided me into the hotel. We nodded at the doorman. He wished us a pleasant evening.

Before we entered the hotel ballroom, Terence kissed my temple. The soul-patch under his lip scratched my face. I smiled up at him, wiping with my finger tip the bit of foundation that clung to his facial hair.

“Am I wearing too much makeup?” I had applied more war paint than I usually did–concealer, blush ... everything. It was important for him, for us and our future, that I make a good impression at his fundraiser.

Terence stepped back, giving me a leisurely once over, starting at my silver sandals and ending up at the top of my curls. When his gaze flickered back to my breasts, I slapped his arm to get him to focus.

“Well?”

“Baby, you always look good.” When he smiled, his teeth flashed under the lighting of the hotel lobby like those old-fashioned camera bulbs.

I love his smile. I love him.

***

Being the fiancée of an up-and-coming politician had its drawbacks. Parties like these were one of them.

Expensive cologne and perfume mingled with a maze of faces and a plethora of names. The grasping, the clutching, the clawing, had me at my wits’ end. With each new introduction, my smile grew less and less in wattage until it became more or less a perfunctory grin. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep up the pretense...

“Terence Kovack! There you are.”

An elfin woman, dressed elegantly in a silver sheathed dress that showed off her perfectly toned legs, made her way toward us. The woman, both compacted in height and width, seamlessly parted people that stood in her way.

I squared my shoulders, determined to get through yet another introduction.

“Mrs. Eisenberg,” Terence beamed, “this is my fiancée, Vegas.” Terence nudged me forward and into the spotlight of the woman’s gaze. Up close, I noted that time had stood still on the woman’s face, even though her hands were rivers of veins and boulders of age spots.

Mrs. Eisenberg’s gaze traveled my entire frame and bore into my soul in less than a second. From her dismissive glance away from me and back to Terence, I gathered her critical eye had picked up on my flaws and weaknesses.

There were so many...

“So nice to meet you, dear.” Mrs. Eisenberg circled her thin arm into Terence’s beefy one. “Come Terence, I want you to meet some people.” Almost as an afterthought, she turned to me. “Vegas dear, do mingle. I’ll bring him back as soon as I can.” Terence threw an apologetic glance over his shoulder at me before Mrs. Eisenberg led him away.

Now what?

My eyes darted around the room. I didn’t recognize not one person I could latch on to. For me, small talk wasn’t an inherent gift. I always found it difficult to start a conversation with a complete stranger. I seized up like a deer in the headlights, my mouth working in confusion while my brain searched for an intelligent answer, often coming up empty.

Just be yourself, Terence had always told me. Easier said than done. I did not know who Vegas Shipley was.

In college, I worked on finding myself when Terence found me. He was a hurricane force, catching me up in me such a whirlwind of emotions, I let him consume me. Two days after my graduation, we broke up. I’d hurt before, but at that moment, I went through serious pain. Six months ago, Terence called me out of the blue, and we took up where we left off. It was as if we were never apart.

But this time, we were in it for the long haul. The ring on my finger proved it. Nothing and no one could stop us, not even ... Timothy James.

The glow of a newly formed sun warmed me and my heart double-dutched in my chest.

That is him.

I would recognize him out of an identical twin line up. There was no mistaking the thick, dark hair I’d clutched while my body languidly twisted in euphoria. Those swimmer shoulders and still flat waist. He even had on the same silver wire-rimmed glasses. That night I had admired the way they suited his chiseled, angular face. When I’d told him so, he laughed. The deep boom released a thousand butterflies in my stomach.

When he’d taken them off and placed them on the nightstand, the temple pieces clicked like the polished boot heels of a soldier. Without them, his dark eyes were enormous and liquid, yet they burned every inch of my naked form...

Without so much as a start of recognition, he moved toward me. Confidence in every stride.

I grabbed a passing flute of sparkling wine from a server’s silver tray, sucking it up like a vacuum on the highest setting. What courage I hoped to gather from the quick intake of alcohol didn’t work.

The closer he got, the more apprehensive I became. My legs grew weak and rubbery. An Arizona summer, hot and dusty, swirled in my mouth. My tongue felt like a slug on a warm piece of concrete.

But I was happy. No, ecstatic. And worried, and afraid, and—

He enveloped me in a hug, his embrace so familiar, it hurt to let go. A maelstrom of emotion swirled within me, making my eyes fill with tears. I dabbed at the wetness before he noticed.

“Vegas,” he said in that deep voice of his. The one I heard in my dreams. “It’s so nice to see you.”