Page 47 of This Thing of Ours

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” The asshole got out of the booth, and his friend slid out behind him.

Marco pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket, peeled off four bills, then passed them out. The men grabbed their drinks and staggered into the crowd.

“I can’t believe you just paid four hundred dollars for this table. We could’ve stood over by the bar,” Gabriella said once they were seated.

Marco grunted but didn’t reply as a waitress stepped up to the table. “What can I get you guys?”

Leaning closer to Gabriella, he asked, “What would you like?”

She thought a few seconds then finally said, “I’m not a big drinker. Surprise me.”

Turning back to the waitress, Marco said, “The lady will have a sea breeze. I’ll have a beer. Whatever’s on tap is fine.” It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t be drinking it.

He took another look around as their server left, his eyes drawn to a group a few tables away. Five men and three women were crammed into a horseshoe booth. They were loud and getting louder and rowdier by the minute, but it seemed self-contained to their booth. He’d keep an eye on them. He tracked the asshole from earlier, noticed him standing on the fringes of the dance floor, beer in hand.

“You hate this place, don’t you?”

He turned his attention back to Gabriella. “I don’t… hate it,” he said cautiously and diplomatically.

Or so he thought until she laughed, “You sooo hate this place.”

Resting his forearms on the table he sighed and admitted, “Yeah.”

“Why?” she asked, seeming genuinely curious. “We’re in a decent area at the heart of the Las Vegas strip.” She waved a hand around. “The place isn’t a dive, and the people seem friendly enough. Plus, it’s still early. Nothing bad ever happens in a bar at nine o’clock.”

He pulled his eyebrows into a frown and addressed her last comment first as it was the most ridiculous. “Bad things happen in bars at all hours. People drink in bars, and when people drink, they become unpredictable.” He captured a lock of her hair and twisted it around his finger, pulling her closer, until their faces were but inches apart. “Don’t let the friendly laughter fool you, it can turn belligerent on a dime.”

She covered his hand that rested on the table with her own. “So cynical.”

He gave her a small smile because she wasn’t totally wrong but shook his head and said, “No, just a realist. I’ve seen a lot of bad shit done by all kinds of people. Even the good ones.”

The waitress came and delivered their drinks. Gabriella picked hers up, sniffed it, took a small sip, then promptly made a face.

Marco chuckled. “You don’t like it.”

She set the glass down and licked her lips. “I’m not a fan of grapefruit juice. Or cranberry juice, really. I think it’s the bitterness I don’t like.”

For as long as he’d known Gabriella, he felt as though he should have known that—her likes and dislikes. He raised his hand to signal the server, wanting to rectify his mistake. “We’ll order you something else.”

She grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand down. “No. It’s okay. As I said, I’m not a big drinker and really just wanted one to blend in. Soak up the atmosphere as one of the natives, so to speak.” She laughed nervously and fiddled with the straw in her drink. “That sounded kind of stupid when said aloud.”

A blush tinged the apples of her cheeks, and without thought, he leaned in and kissed her. A gentle brush of his lips against hers. He backed away a fraction, and murmured, “Nothing you could ever say would be stupid.”

Speaking just as softly, she said, “I think you’re biased.”

He smiled even though with their faces so close, he knew she couldn’t see it. “Absolutely.” He waited a beat then continued, “Now, I need to ask you a very serious question.”

She nodded her assent, a small frown pulling at her lips.

“What else don’t you like?”

She tipped her head back and giggled at his very serious, non-serious question, no longer looking uncomfortable.

Mission accomplished.

As time passed, Marco felt himself growing more at ease in their environment, tucked away as they were in a semi-quiet corner. The crowd and noise melted away and all he heard was Gabriella as she shared her least favorite foods and then her favorites, which transitioned into the movies she loved and her fascination with period pieces because of all the kick-ass costumes. And that led to her reluctantly admitting she wanted to open her own dress boutique once she graduated and raised the money.

He could listen to her talk for hours and never grow tired of the sexy rasp of her voice. Its tranquil melody surrounded him, leaving him feeling more peaceful than he had in… well ever. She did that. Lightened all the darkness in his life. Gave him the hope of a happy future. Something he’d never dreamed of hoping for before.

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