Page 15 of Vegas Baby

“I never said you did. It’s not my place to judge anyone. You live your life the way you want to live it and if you’re happy and it doesn’t hurt anyone, keep doing what you’re doing. But don’t imply I made a parallel assumption about you and Miller. Your own insecurity is talking, not me.”

“I don’t feel guilty nor will I apologize for my lifestyle.” According to the GPS, the resort neared and he couldn’t wait to get out of the car. Was she right? Had he read more into her statement? He was hot, tired, and sticky, his mood turning from promising to bad in the space of a few hours.

The resort appeared in the horizon, a huge, sprawling building with palm trees and a waterfall from the reflection. He pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in gear before cutting the engine.

“What are you doing?” Raina asked.

“Putting my suit back on. We’ll be meeting people for lunch. I can’t go in looking like this.” He reached for the shirt from behind the seat and slipped his arms into the sleeves.

“I’d forget the pants. I mean don’t change your pants. Leave the jeans on with the white shirt. No jacket. No tie. We’re at a resort and on our…” She made air quotes, the diamond in her ring catching the sun. “Honeymoon, and attending a wedding, we’re not at a business meeting.”

What she said made sense but it made him uneasy. He’d worked hard his entire career to show himself as a professional and not the punk kid that he once was. His suits were like his second skin, a way of covering up who he really was with an air of someone who had it all together.

A ruse to fool the world but he couldn’t fool himself.

Not for one second.

The doors to the resort entrance opened with a soft woosh. Raina stepped over the threshold with Howler, his hand on the small of her back. She removed her sunglasses and swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. A large group of people were gathered at the far end of the huge lobby decorated in a chic modern take on a southwest classic. Excited voices mingled with laughter and sitar music. Veer stood out amongst the crowd. At six foot four and two-hundred and forty pounds, he dwarfed the elegantly dressed man standing next to him.

Raina had Googled Mr. Patel, and the dapper man with his dark hair combed in a conservative style and a neatly trimmed beard, appeared no less impressive in person than in his CEO profile picture. Veer waved and she returned the gesture, her stomach in knots. If not for Howler’s splayed fingers on her back moving her forward, she might have turn around and escaped to the car.

“Relax, we’re going to a wedding, not an execution.” Howler guided her toward the front desk of the lobby, a noticeable falseness in his smile. He halted a few feet behind another couple checking in and dropped his hand.

“Easy for you to say. How can you be so calm? Patel is standing next to Veer.” Raina averted her gaze from the party and stared at the innocuous picture behind the front desk, trying to ward off the inevitable panic attack. Breathe, Raina, breathe.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that.” Howler retrieved his wallet from his back pocket, the action causing his shirt to strain as the muscles of his shoulders bunched. The jeans and the white button down reminded her of what lay beneath the fabric. Perhaps she should have let him wear the suit, a visible barrier between the man and the professional.

Her safety net.

Howler leaned in close. “Why are you so nervous? It’s not like you’ll ever see him or any of these people ever again.”

The couple in front of them finished checking in and strode towards the elevator.

“Of course I will. When Veer signs with the Pioneers, his family will be invited to team events.” By then, they’d be divorced, which meant a whole bunch of questions she’d be forced to answer.

He raised an eyebrow, and offered Raina an exasperated shake of his head. “If he signs with the Pioneers.”

“When he signs with the Pioneers. We have a deal,” she said out of clenched teeth.

“That’s up for negotiation,” Howler said low enough for only them to hear.

She glanced about, wanting badly to debate the issue but the music had stopped, and the voices from the group carried in the cavernous room. They weren’t alone.

“Glaring at me won’t convince Patel of your undying devotion. We’re supposed to be in love.” The sharp clip to his tone spoke of deep skepticism.

Someone as jaded as herself. She’d never been in love and in the back of her mind, she felt she never would be. Her family life hadn’t exactly been conventional and she had nothing to pull from, not really. “My undying devotion? More like my eternal frustration.”

“We don’t have to do this. We can always call it off.”

Raina inspected his stern profile, curious to his sudden change in mood. “Sure, I can call this off, lose Veer and lose my job. Some choice.”

“Welcome, can I help you?” the clerk asked, her smile overly bright.

“Yeah, some choice.” Clearing his throat, he lifted his chin and approached the desk. “We have reservations for Hamilton.”

The clerk typed his name into the computer, her eyebrows rising before she glanced up and grinned at Raina. “Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton. I see here you’re newlyweds. Congratulations.”

Mrs. Hamilton. The clerk slid over a small envelope and the sick feeling in her gut returned with a vengeance. “Here are your room cards. You’ll be on the first floor.”

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