by Rosanna Leo
Bea had gripped Dana by the shoulders, giving her a little shake. “Please tell me you said yes.”
“I told him I wasn’t sure.”
“Mija,” said Jessica. She’d cupped Dana’s cheek. “Are you nuts?”
“Call him,” Bea had urged. “Call him now or we’ll never forgive you. Seriously, I have a very long memory for this kind of shit.”
Anise hadn’t been quite as enthusiastic. As the others had bubbled with delight, her sister had remained quiet.
“Are you up for a bit of clubbing?” Dana had asked Anise.
“I’m supposed to be up for anything, right? Those are the rules.”
The old Anise would have swung from the rafters. She would have become the unofficial queen of Covet.
Dana wasn’t sure what to do with this new, cautious Anise.
“Because we can do something else,” Dana had said.
“Dana.” Bea had pointed a finger at her. “Are you calling him yet?”
“You’d better do it.” Anise had shrugged. “You’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t.”
Dana had had no choice. With a tremor in her gut, she’d dialed the office number Alex had keyed into her phone. Even though she didn’t expect Alex to answer the office number, she’d stifled her disappointment when a man named Trevor answered.
What did you think would happen? Duh. He has people to do that sort of thing for him.
Alex’s assistant had confirmed they were already on the guest list. Bea and Jessica had spent the next few minutes dancing around the room in excitement and Dana had been forced to accept the fact there was no getting out of this plan.
So she’d decided to own it. She would embrace this party. They would have a great time.
And if the opportunity to flirt with a certain blond hotel owner came up, who was she to deny it?
As she unzipped her makeup case, she heard a buzz in the other room. It was her phone.
Another text from Tommy. She knew it in her marrow.
She planted her hands on the granite vanity and looked herself in the eye. “Do not check your phone. Whatever it is, it can wait. He can wait.”
Taking a deep breath, she applied her makeup. She hadn’t worn it much lately, for fear of messing it with any guerilla attack tears. Tonight wasn’t about tears. Dammit, she would apply a double coat of mascara.
When Dana was happy with her makeup application, deep rose blush, wine lipstick, and a shimmery eyeshadow to complement her new white dress, she set her brushes down. Her natural curls hung loose. They would make her mom want to reach for her flat iron but Dana had long since given up her relaxer.
“You look good.” She smiled at her reflection. “Just have fun and forget about everything.”
Her phone buzzed again.
This time, Dana walked into the living area of the suite and grabbed her cell.
Tommy: I know I’m the last person you want to talk to. But I’m asking you, can we talk? Please.
Tommy: It’s important, Dana.
Important. Right.
He’d stopped being important to her. She couldn’t think of a single thing he could tell her that would carry any import for her. This was probably just a case of Tommy feeling nostalgic. Perhaps he hadn’t met anyone yet and wanted attention.
“No way, sucker.”
Dana shut off the phone and tossed it in her evening bag. Resolved, she walked over to the minibar and opened it. There were all sorts of enticing bottles inside, samples of everything from white wine to vodka to Drambuie. She knew full well drinking from the minibar would cost dearly but she didn’t care. She’d already gotten the suites at a steal. Grabbing a small bottle of white wine, she emptied the contents into a glass.
Reading the label, she noticed the vintage. Although she would never call herself a connoisseur, she knew enough to recognize it was the good stuff. Alex had talked about vintages at Joe’s. It made sense he wouldn’t serve cat pee at Vice.
She drank it down in three gulps. Definitely not cat pee. Dry and tangy, it doused the fireball in her belly.
The flames didn’t stay out for long. In seconds, they surged again with renewed heat.
She checked the wine bottle but there were only drops left.
Tommy’s voice, although reedy and thin at the back of her head, sounded like a cannonball.
Women like you.
“Women like me.” She paced. “What the hell do you know about women like me?”
As the minibar door hung open, her eye was drawn to a tiny bottle of Bailey’s.
She loved Bailey’s.
The bottles were so small. One more wouldn’t hurt.
She reached for the tiny bottle and cracked open the lid. As the creamy nectar burned a pleasant path down her throat, she closed her eyes.
Screw you, Tommy.
The alcohol might not destroy her anger but it softened it, made it tolerable.
Lo and behold. One more bottle of Bailey’s hid at the back.
Another fine example of fate at work.
It wouldn’t kill her. It was so sweet it was practically candy.
Dana polished the second bottle of Bailey’s off even quicker than the first and disposed of them in the trash can. She wiped her mouth, brushed her teeth again, and reapplied her lipstick.
Tommy’s words might have taken residence in her brain, but she’d managed to kick him out temporarily.
A moment later, there was a knock at her door. She opened it to Anise, Jessica, and Bea.
When they saw her, they let out a whoop.
“Well, well,” purred Anise. “You look good.”
“Thanks. I feel good.”
Bea looked her up and down. “Woman, you should wear that dress every single day for the rest of your life.”
“That might not fly at work.”
Jessica hooked her arm in Dana’s. “You look beautiful. And Bea, you can pop your eyes back into your head. This woman is taken. I’m sure Tommy wouldn’t appreciate you ogling his fiancée.”
“A girl can always look.” Bea grinned.
“Exactly. Besides,” said Dana, “Tommy isn’t here.”
“Hey, hey.” Anise poked Dana in the ribs. “Do I need to ask Wade to keep an eye on you tonight as well?”
“Whatever.” As they filed out, Dana shut her suite door, taking care to check it was locked. “Ready to party, ladies?”
“Ready!”
“Alex Markov,” said Bea. “Here we come!”
I want to flirt with you some more.
As she remembered the heat in his gaze, she couldn’t help feeling excited about what the night might bring.
In fact, when she and the others had gone shopping earlier that day, she’d purposely picked out a dress that would catch Alex’s eye. She’d have to be careful not to drop her handbag, because if she bent over too far, the slim-fitting white mini-dress might very well catch the eyes of everyone at the club.
Even Anise had raised an eyebrow when Dana had picked it out. “Planning on wearing that for Tommy when you get home?”
“Who says I can’t wear it tonight?” Dana had replied.
“It’s pretty slinky. Not really your style.”
“Maybe my style is changing.”
Anise had placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to ask you one more time and then I’ll leave you alone. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t seem the same.”
“I’m fine. I have a few days off. I just want to be with you and forget my responsibilities for a while. Is that allowed?”
“Honey,” Anise had said. “As you keep reminding me, this is Vegas. From what I hear, everything’s allowed. But you would tell me if something is bothering you, right?”
“Sure thing, sis. Just like you told me.” Dana tried hard to keep any remaining bitterness out of her voice, but it slipped out anyway. At the sight of Anise’s downcast face, she had reached for her hand. “I’m sorry. I promise nothing’s wrong. If there was a pr
oblem, I would tell you.”
The lie tripped from her tongue as smoothly as the Bailey’s had coated her throat.
She would deal with the repercussions later.
Dana smoothed a hand over the short skirt of her dress. If all went well, it would make a pair of green eyes sparkle.
She didn’t care what Anise thought. Tonight, she just wanted to laugh and smile and forget the world.
Alex Markov, here I come.
Chapter Six
The name over the Vice nightclub marquee said Covet. It had been chosen well.
As Dana approached, she held her breath, eager to enter. She’d been a part of Alex’s world for one night, not long ago.
She wanted to be a part of his world again, even if it was only for a few more stolen moments.
Others did too. At least two hundred people were lined up around the corner. However, Alex’s assistant Trevor had instructed Dana to go right to the bouncer at the door and bypass the line. Everyone eyed them as they headed there, probably wondering who they were and who they knew.
The bouncer, in conversation with another staff member, held the door open. Through it, Dana spotted a celebrity. An A-list action movie actor, the man held court just inside the entrance. His arms were around two women, one of whom was nibbling his neck, and neither of whom were his wife.
Jessica grabbed Dana’s arm. “Is that—?”
“Yup. That’s him.”
“Hmm,” said Jessica. “He’s shorter in real life.”
“Everyone’s shorter in real life,” said Bea.
Anise’s lip curled. “More importantly, he’s married in real life.”
Dana squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“No. It’s just disappointing, that’s all. I’ve seen all his movies but I won’t be seeing any more. Imagine, playing the honorable family man on screen over and over when he’s keeping a couple of women on the side.”
Dana knew her sister didn’t care about celebrity marriages. Anise didn’t even read the rag magazines, but seeing such a flagrant display of infidelity would no doubt remind her of Roman’s betrayal. “If you change your mind, just say the word.”
“Okay.”
The bouncer finished up his conversation and turned to them. “Ladies. Welcome to Covet. May I have your names, please?”
Dana told them their names, wondering if this was the part where the guy would laugh and show them the door.
“Very good. Mr. Markov asked me to keep an eye out for you.”
So this wasn’t just some weird joke.
The bouncer waved to a beautiful woman dressed in a body-hugging black dress. When she approached, he directed her. “Viola, would you please escort these ladies? Mr. Markov’s expecting them.”
“Of course.” Viola smiled and turned on her heel like a model on the catwalk. “You’re more than welcome to have fun here in the club, but Mr. Markov asked me to bring you to the VIP suite first. He’d like to say hello. I’ll be your personal concierge tonight. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”
As they followed, the bouncer smiled at Dana. “Have a sinful night.”
Jessica and Bea squealed.
Dana didn’t know where to look as they walked through Covet. Plenty of people mingled and danced, and each one looked more dazzling than the one before. Although she’d never considered herself a slouch in the looks department, suddenly she felt a need to touch up her makeup for the hundredth time.
Don’t be dumb. She knew how these gigs worked. Nightclub owners routinely hired dozens of models to entice guests. No doubt, it also made the regular folk feel as if they were part of a chosen few.
The club itself was stunning. Although the focal point was a huge dance floor, there were lots of cozy alcoves for sitting, all partitioned off with red velvet curtains. Gorgeous men and women circulated, dressed similarly to Viola, distributing colorful cocktails and flutes of champagne. The red walls provided a sumptuous background to the many works of art. A lot of the pictures on the walls had religious themes. Some even looked like gold icons of saints. It made the place feel like an art gallery.
Only she’d never been in any art gallery with a soundtrack. The lighting scheme pulsed in time with the EDM, in an energetic show of illumination. The music itself was orchestrated by a familiar DJ. Although Dana couldn’t place her name, she’d seen her in entertainment magazines. The tattooed woman stood on a dais, whipping the crowd into a frenzy on the dance floor. Everyone standing near it swayed in time to the groove. Wherever Dana looked, she saw flashes of silver and gold, and happy, sweaty faces.
There was something psychedelic about the place. It made her head swim but she was more than happy to dive into those waters. Her body was already begging to move to the beat of the music.
At the far end of the room, the space opened onto an elaborate pool deck. It was lit by soft light, so flattering most people wouldn’t hesitate to don a bikini. Outside, partiers swam and relaxed on teak deck chairs, surrounded by palm trees and cabanas. Staff members in designer swimsuits encouraged guests to take a dip or lounge on floaties built for two.
There was something decadent about laying on a floatie, listening to dance music and sipping champagne.
After crossing what felt like an expanse, Viola steered them away from the main part of the club and turned a corner into a darkened hallway lined with more religious icons. Saints and martyrs watched their progress, as if in judgment.
Viola knocked on a closed door at the end of the hallway. A man opened it. “Mr. Markov’s guests are here.”
He held the door open. “Welcome, ladies. Please come in.”
Trading looks, Dana and the others headed inside.
When Viola had mentioned the VIP suite, Dana had expected some sort of stuffy back room. She couldn’t have been more wrong.
Where the rest of Covet was opulent and rich, the VIP suite was airy and light. Beige leather couches extended across each wall. Partiers sat and lounged on them, sipping cocktails from filigreed goblets. The great room was subdivided into smaller sections by enormous glass panel artwork that hung in various places throughout the space. The floor-to-ceiling glass partitions made each nook feel private, but still allowed one to see everything on the other side.
The lighting here was soft and neutral, unlike the brighter color display in the main part of the club. Although one could still hear the music, it was muted in this sanctuary and people could talk to one another without having to yell.
As a carryover from the other part of the club, the VIP suite also boasted private booths along each wall. These too featured red velvet curtains that could be closed if guests wanted some privacy. Dana could only imagine what some people got up to in those nooks.
An enormous bar lined one wall, staffed by more employees with perfect skin and perfect hair. This room opened onto the pool deck as well, but had its own separate entrance and private cabanas.
She had no doubt VIP guests paid a premium for the exclusivity. Bouncers stood guard on the pool deck, ready in case any of the regular guests tried to enter the private area from outside.
Anise grabbed Dana’s arm and whispered. “Look. Isn’t that Adam Maxwell?”
Dana did a double take. Another A-list movie star. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“The woman he’s talking to,” said Bea. “That’s Sheree Tucker.”
Sure enough, the Hollywood star was in deep conversation with the famous country singer.
And they weren’t the only celebrities in the room. Everywhere Dana looked, she spied familiar faces, even if she couldn’t place them all.
Alex had some powerful friends. She’d already known it, but it was something altogether different to be surrounded by them.
Where was Alex?
Her heart in her throat for reasons she didn’t want to admit, Dana followed Viola.
She looked all around, needing to see him. Needing to have some sort of assurance
that she hadn’t just walked out of her regular world into some other sort of bizarre existence. Her pulse quickening, Dana suddenly felt adrift.
Untethered.
She needed Alex to be her anchor, to tell her everything was perfectly normal.
Nothing unusual here, Dana. This is just how I spend all my days. Stick around. Mick Jagger is due to arrive any minute now with a bevy of European princesses.
Within seconds, she’d spotted him.
As the others kept walking, she hung back for a moment, taking him in. Her pulse tripped to the same beat as the music.
Or was that just her heartbeat pounding in her head?
Alex lounged behind one of the glass partitions on one of those expensive leather couches. He was surrounded by a bevy of attractive men and women, all of whom seemed to be clamoring for his attention.
One of the women asked him to join her in a selfie. He shook his head and frowned, mouthing the words, “Not tonight.”
What struck Dana most was the look on his face. Although he appeared to be following the conversation on the couch, there was a certain detachment in his eyes, as if he’d had that conversation one too many times. Tuned out, he rested his chin in his hand, and his gaze flitted around the room.
He had all of the approachability of a bored Bourbon king on his throne.
Was it possible Alex was blasé about his own party?
When his gaze landed on Dana, his posture changed. He sat up and his eyes narrowed with predatory focus. A twitch of his lips made his pleasure known. The brunette sitting next to him was in the middle of saying something but Alex excused himself and stood. As he walked over, everyone near him watched.
Dana’s belly fluttered. An honest-to-goodness belly flutter.
When was the last time she’d had one of those?
Maybe it was just all those Hollywood types walking around. They made her nervous.
Alex walked out from behind the glass partition and smiled.
Sweet Mother of Jesus.
Dana had never seen him smile in any of their other interactions. Now she understood why he’d kept it under wraps.
It was too magnificent.
When his lips curled upward, it was like Zeus unleashing his untamed glory upon mere mortals. There was something sly and wanton in the curve of his mouth. It made him look like a lion about to go in for the kill. Heat washed over her. Everything in the party room seemed doused, the lights, the shiny fixtures, the mere mortals who flocked around him. They all faded into the background like sad, grey shadows.