Page 41 of Married With Lies

CALE

This assignment was kind of last minute.

Yesterday Richie called all in a huff because his son-in-law was in the hospital with a gall bladder attack and wouldn’t be able to make the trip to Vegas for the grand opening of the latest Amato investment.

Taking a short trip to Vegas isn’t the worst task in the world so I didn’t argue. After a year of renovations the Golden Castle Hotel and Casino is back in business. The original place probably enjoyed its heyday back when Elvis was alive and had become kind of a sorry looking dump before changing ownership. While Atlantic City will always be Richie’s preferred playground, he’s been talking about getting a foothold in the Vegas scene for years.

That’s why I’m now standing in a crowded room, bored out of my skull and hiding my irritation. It’s not that I mind a sudden change of plans. That’s a part of the job I’m used to. Anyway, I can combine this trip with a visit to Santa Fe where I’ll be reminding a disgraced movie producer that he still owes Richie Amato a few favors.

This is the first time I’ve been back in Vegas since my wedding. For four months I’ve kept up my end of the charade. For the most part it’s been easy. After the initial shock and gossip about my marriage faded, the topic didn’t seem to come up a whole lot. Richie was pleased enough to have the Wingate alliance. Since he sends me out of the city on a regular basis it’s not a big deal to go along with his assumption that I often travel to Colorado. Richie trusts me enough not to keep close tabs and I know how to cover my tracks in case he gets curious.

The more time that passes, the less of a need there is to tell lies. Like if someone asks, “How’s the wife?” I can answer, “She’s just fine.”

She’s better than fine. She’s exactly where she wants to be, building doghouses and shit. Now she has all the money she needs to bring her plans to life.

The thought makes me break into a smile. Nearby, a shapely blonde wearing a red dress has been trying to catch my eye for the last twenty minutes. The woman brightens and takes a step closer, thinking I’ve just given her a signal. I haven’t. My attention returns to the speaker standing atop an absurd gold podium at the front of the room.

He’s one of the Bowler brothers. Their first names are Mike and Fred. I don’t know which one is speaking because I paid no attention earlier when they went down the assembly line of guests to make introductions. They are both stocky and balding and sound like talking geese. I suppose Vegas isn’t going out of business anytime soon so Richie’s investment is safe. For the sake of the Bowler brothers, I hope this is true.

Mike or Fred could use some public speaking lessons. He trips over his words for the tenth time and consults his phone. The blonde woman’s elbow brushes my arm. She loudly clears her throat. She’s starting to get on my nerves.

My thumb rolls over the smooth band on the fourth finger of my left hand. I wear it every day. I’ll keep wearing it until this arrangement is finished.

Despite the fact that nobody, not even my own wife, would care if I fucked all the showgirls in Vegas, I’ll be sticking to the rules. It’s only fair. If Sadie has to sleep alone then so do I.

I’ve never been worried she’ll break the agreement. Why would she? She’s getting everything that I promised her.

In the beginning, I hired a detective to hang around that little town of hers and check the place. In the interest of being transparent, I gave her a heads up that he was around. She did not like this at all.

Funny thing. I was unwilling to go against her wishes.

Besides, I’d already received a full report from the detective and was satisfied that she was safely tucked away with only animals and harmless locals to interact with.

After arranging for the electrical system to be quickly updated on the entire ranch property, I paid for the installation of a full security system. Naturally, Sadie forgets to use it all the time.

It’s fortunate that the town of Sleepy Rock is as dull as it sounds. Sadie spends all her time dedicated to working at her ranch and being a productive citizen. She’d probably be shocked to hear that I admire her for that.

One constant life lesson is that not many people can be counted on to be what they seem. Makes me appreciate the ones who are. Sadie, by all appearances, is exactly who she says she is.

Mike or Fred finishes his speech and cuts a ceremonial yellow ribbon. Applause rains down. People begin to cluster and mingle and Red Dress seizes the chance to strike.

“Ellie Caswell.” She extends a delicate manicured hand and smiles until her dimples pop. “Of Caswell Resorts and Entertainment.”

Never heard of them. She could work for the Pope for all I care. But I’m here on Richie’s business so I have to act polite.

“Cale Connelly.” I give her hand a quick pump.

She tries to hold on for longer than necessary and waits for me to say more. I don’t play that game. Even in the best of circumstances I’m no prince of manners.

“Very nice to meet you, Cale,” she finally says in a velvety voice that’s just a notch above a purr. Her name is called from a cluster of people speaking to the Bowler brothers. She responds with a wave of acknowledgement and gives me a not-so-subtle inspection before leaning in.

“I’m surprised they managed to pull off the renovations on schedule. What do you think, Cale?”

I think the Golden is midlevel at best. But the place won’t have a problem attracting starry-eyed suburbanites who are easily impressed and come traipsing out here with money falling out of their pockets.

“It’s not bad,” I say, hoping that’s the end of this encounter.

She sniffs out a giggle. “You’re right, it’s no palace. But I scored one of the top floor suites for the weekend. I have it all to myself. What about you?”

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