“I am proud to inform you that I did not fail my American Driver’s License test, but the hotel sent a car for me, so why attempt to drive? And since I have never been to Las Vegas before, and am worried about getting lost or worse, being kidnapped, I was hoping you would accompany me to keep me safe and we can give you a ride to your hotel?” he smoothly jokes with me.
No words come out of my mouth as I just stare at him and blink. He wants me to ride in his car with him?
“I am sorry, I should have asked if you were waiting for someone instead of assuming you would just come with a complete stranger whom you just met.”
“No, I am sorry, I am not waiting for anyone, and that is really nice of you to offer me a ride, but I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you and the driver by having to go to separate hotels.”
“It’s not an inconvenience at all since I’m not the one driving. Where are you staying?”
“I’m staying at the MGM Grand,” I confirm by checking my hotel reservation on my phone.
“Brilliant, because so am I.” He flashes me a wicked smile. “C’mon, let’s go.”
He grabs my bag and starts walking to the exit. I quicken my pace to try to keep up with his long legs. I stop in my tracks as I stare dumbfounded as he greets the driver of a Rolls Royce Phantom. I watch as the driver puts my luggage into the trunk and they both wait for me to get into the car.
“I am so surprised that the hotel provided you with such a junker of a car,” I sarcastically say while getting in the car and observing the interior of this extraordinary vehicle.
“Right? This is such an embarrassment to be driving around Las Vegas in,” we laugh and admire the car. I thought my ex-husband’s car was going to be the nicest car I’d ever entered, but I was mistaken. The driver tells us to help ourselves to the beverages available in the center console and eases into traffic towards our hotel.
“So, is this your everyday norm, being driven around in cars worth more than most people make in a year?”
“Being driven around by someone else is definitely not normal for me. I do appreciate the art form of a well-made car though,” he sheepishly admits. “I am fortunate that my family, especially my sisters, make sure to keep me very well grounded, and not let the aspect of my career alter my ego too much.”
“So, would you say cars are a weakness of yours?”
“Cars and good-looking woman,” he locks those gorgeous blue eyes with mine and I can’t look away. What am I doing here with this man? He is pure fire - lures you in with his confidence, and can leave scars from burning you with his charm. I am uncomfortably hot in places that have not been alive in a very long time.
“I am sure you have zero problems meeting women,” I say, fidgeting in my seat under his gaze.
He shrugs his shoulders at that, and glances out the window before answering.
“Yes, this industry brings a lot of beautiful women in my path, but beauty on the outside does not mean beauty on the inside. I like strong women, and am not attracted to anyone who wants to ride my coattails.”
“You are young, you have plenty of time to find that person. Don’t rush it.”
“True, but I like being in relationships. I am fascinated with exploring as much as I can about that person, emotionally and physically.”
I swallow at the thought of being physically explored by him and refuse to let my thoughts continue down that path.
“What are you looking forward to the most during your time in Las Vegas?” I ask, hoping the change of topic, and not directly looking him in the eye, will also help cool me down.
“I am excited about the writing in this movie script, so getting the ball rolling on filming. I got to Las Vegas early because I like to get myself mentally prepared for my role, and have some time to myself first. This is also my first major film with Sean, so that’s always fun to make movies with your friends. What about you?”
“I am new to the whole public speaking gig, and not too sure if I am even good at. It isn’t what I love to do,“ I say with a laugh. “Honestly though, I really just hope that I can inspire someone to stop being afraid, and go forth with their dreams. If one person out of everyone at the conference starts their journey, then I would deem the trip a success.”
I look back into his eyes, anticipating some sort of sarcastic response to my sincere answer.
“Was my answer too cheesy for you?” I ask with an uncomfortable giggle as he continues to stare at me.
“Your answer was pretty amazing to me,” he answers seriously, holding my gaze. The honk of a horn breaks our hold, and we realize we are already pulling into the entrance of the hotel. Figures that there would be no traffic when you are having a nice conversation with a handsome man.
I gather my purse, and step out of the door the driver has opened for me. Cal reaches into the trunk to take my suitcase out. He notices my strange look when he shuts the trunk with his suitcase still inside of it.
“Apparently, I am staying on a side of the hotel that has a private entrance that I have to be driven too,” he says with an irritated look towards the driver.
“I completely understand, high roller!” I joke. “Seriously though, thank you again for the ride, and I sincerely hope the movie is a big success.”
“Thank you, and good luck with your conference,” he smiles and nods his head at me as I let a hotel employee grab my bag to escort me to the front desk. I turn around, and force myself to not look back.
5
After waiting in line for thirty minutes to get my key, I finally head to my room. I arrive to find a very large spacious suite with a separate living and dining room from the bedroom and a workstation. I immediately jot down a note to remind myself to thank the organizer of the conference for upgrading me to a suite. I start to unpack my clothes into the closet and drawers, wanting to get comfortable since I will be here for almost a week. I put some clothes that I wore during the conference in New York in the dry-cleaning bag to send out for cleaning. The thought of giving dry cleaning services my underwear to wash horrifies me. Shopping for new underwear for the week is a must. Once all the unpacking is done, I put away my suitcase in the closet, and glance at my watch. With the time change, it’s only just past lunch and I groan at the thought that I have a full day’s work ahead of me. What I wouldn’t give for a nap. I look longingly at the bed, debating whether or not to take a two hour nap. If I want to try to go to the Grand Canyon tomorrow for some sightseeing, I need to skip the nap. With my decision made, I grab my laptop, order room service for lunch and start working.
Five hours later, and I am feeling confident enough to stop working for the day. I managed to finish sending all of my thank you emails to people from the conference in New York, got up to date with my incoming emails, finished the final touches on my speech, and worked on a couple of blog posts to schedule for the week pending Robert’s proofreading approval. Feeling accomplished, it is time to get out of this room, grab dinner, and walk up and down the Strip for some people watching, then back for a decent night’s sleep. I change into a long maxi dress with a jean jacket and some comfortable wedges. Foregoing a shower until the morning, I put my long brown hair in a messy ponytail, touch up my makeup, put on fresh deodorant, a spritz of perfume, and finally my hoop earrings. Satisfied with my appearance, I head downstairs to find somewhere to eat.
The hotel is packed with people walking around, getting ready for the nighttime activities. With my tummy rumbling, I decide to stick to one of the restaurants in the hotel. I walk to the concierge desk and ask for recommendations. Being that this is one of the largest hotels in the world, the options seem endless. I walk away from the desk, overwhelmed by too many choices, and the amount of people in my path. Maybe I should just walk to another hotel? But my hunger pains are starting to affect me. I take out my phone from my purse, and decide to look at the hotel app to see what the closest food option is to my current location and that’ll be the winner. At this point, I don’t even
care if it’s fast food.
“So, we meet again.”
I look up from my phone to see the megawatt smile of Cal Harrington. He is wearing a long sleeve button down light blue shirt, navy dress slacks with a brown belt and brown dress shoes. His curly hair is on full display and he has shaved. He looks so delicious that I unconsciously lick my lips.
“Fancy seeing you in this neck of the hotel. What are you doing here?” I ask, pleasantly surprised that I am seeing him again.
“I wanted to get a tour of the whole hotel and check out the sights,” he says, as he looks me up and down, giving me a look of appreciation. I immediately blush, and mentally give myself a high five for deciding to try to look cute in my solo excursion for food.
“Where are you off to?” he asks, and that is when I notice a hotel employee standing next to him, listening to our conversation, but looking around to make sure other guests do not bother Cal.
“I’m trying to find dinner.” I hold up my phone to show him the hotel app. “Is this your new bodyguard?” I nod to the hotel employee.
“No, not today, and as for dinner, Randall is taking me to one of the hotel restaurants that has amazing French cuisine. I think you need to join me.”
It takes me a moment to fully comprehend that he just asked me to dinner. Can I even eat in front of him? Is he the type of guy who SAYS they like a woman with an appetite when in reality, he would be horrified if he sees me eat anything else besides a salad?
“No need to hesitate in your answer. I KNOW you want to eat dinner with me!” he says with a confident smirk. “Randall, please lead the way.” He grabs my arm, and turns me in the direction of the restaurant while laughing at my stupefied expression at his cockiness.
“Making assumptions are we?” I raise my eyebrow at him, hoping I sound flirty and not obvious to the fact that he’s right.
He shrugs at my question. “I’ve enjoyed our conversations thus far, and selfishly, I would like to continue getting to know you. You’re a very intriguing woman, Jenna.” His compliments flow easily from that mesmerizing mouth. “And let’s be honest, no one likes to eat alone.”
We arrive at the entrance of the restaurant and as I look around, I realize that I might be underdressed. The restaurant’s decor is decadent with inspiration from an 1800s’ French Chateaux. My denim jean jacket sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the finely dressed patrons.
“Cal,” I whisper, while we wait for Randall to finish talking to the maître d’. “I think I need to decline your invite. I’m not suitably dressed for this place.”
“You look perfect. All will be fine.” As if on cue, the maître d’ tells us our table is ready, and Cal places his hand on the small of my back with a slight push forward. We are seated at a private table in the back of the restaurant. Menus are handed to us, and we’re left alone until our waiter arrives. I feel like all eyes are on us and as I start to look around the restaurant, my suspicions are confirmed. What am I doing here with a Hollywood actor?
“Jenna, look at me,” Cal demands, noticing my uneasiness. I finally pull my gaze away from the crowd and look him in the eyes. “Don’t worry about anyone else, and stop looking at them. Just concentrate on you and me and what you want for dinner, ok?” he says softly with a smile and looks back down at his menu. I follow suit and try to focus on my food options. When I finally do focus, I groan inwardly. The style of food matches the decor - rich and upscale. I have never been a “foodie”. I am perfectly content with bar food and this style of food is way out of my food palette league. I am notorious for eating a bowl of cereal for dinner most nights. I search for even a small side salad, but apparently this place is too good to even serve that. I turn the menu over, hoping there is more on the back, but I am out of luck. At that moment, the waiter comes by to take our drink order, and tells us what their specials are for evening. Cal orders us a bottle of wine and appetizers that sound absolutely foreign to me. The waiter leaves, and I am feeling hopeless about having a tasty meal tonight.
Snap out of it, Jenna. Be open-minded! Try something new!
I finally settle on an item that I can understand two out of the three ingredients in it, and pray it will be able to satisfy me until I can be alone in my hotel room where I can secretly order room service and no one but myself will know how gluttonous I plan on being.
“Everything okay over there? By the expressions that have been crossing your face for the last two minutes, it seems you are having an internal battle with yourself.” So engrossed was I in trying to decide what to eat, I didn’t notice he was watching me.
“Everything looks great!” I lie a little too enthusiastically. He laughs at me while the waiter arrives with our first appetizer and pours us a glass of wine. The appetizer looks like slimy red meat on top of French bread. I take a big gulp of wine, grimacing at the bitterness of it. The thought of having to eat this appetizer makes me throw up a little in my mouth. I take a sip of water to clear my mouth as the waiter asks for our dinner order. With a “bon appetite” he leaves us to go to the kitchen.
“Let’s have a toast.” Cal raises his wine glass to me, “cheers to making new friends!” I smile and touch my glass with his, making sure to take a smaller sip than last time. The words of his toast are sweet, but I have no doubt this will probably be the last time we see each other once my conference starts.
“So what did you do today?” I ask, hoping to distract him enough that he won’t notice me not eating the appetizer that he serves on a small plate to me.
“I found that I still had a lot of adrenaline from the flight, so I went to work out, took a dip in the pool, had a nap, showered and lounged around. It has been a relaxing day. What about you?” he asks before taking a bite of the questionable looking meat.
I watch his face closely, waiting for a look of disgust or disdain, but his expression remains blank while he chews. “I actually worked all day.” I immediately laugh at his incredulous look at my admission. “So much to do, so little time. Besides, I really want to try to have some down time tomorrow and Tuesday. When the conference begins, I will be pretty busy,” I admit.
“What does one do at conferences like this that keeps you so busy?” He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms across his chest, drawing my attention to his bulging biceps.
I clear my throat and bring my attention back to his face. “Well, I am the opening speaker for the conference, which I have never done before and am pretty nervous about. After the speech, there will be workshops, seminars, q&a’s, and we’ll get together with anyone who wants thirty minutes of free private coaching to help start their business, help with an obstacle they are going through or just answer general questions.“
“And all of that will take place in 3 days?”
“Yes, everything will happen starting Wednesday morning and will go all the way to early evening on Friday. The organizer of this conference likes to start on a Wednesday, and end on a Friday in fun destinations for people to have personal time. It is actually quite smart of her to do so, as it increases her attendance. Case in point, my best friend Layla will be arriving on Friday night for some girl time, even though she actually has business to attend here as well, and then we leave on Sunday.”
“What is the typical time frame for the other similar conferences you have attended?” he asks, seeming genuinely interested and not just trying to make small talk.
“Majority of the other conferences have started on a Sunday and end on a Wednesday.”
“Very interesting,” he says. “So, when are you going to try the appetizer?” He smiles at me with a dangerous glint to his eyes.
“You asked me questions, so I answered them. It’s rude to talk with food in your mouth, you know?” I smirk at him. “So…um, what IS this?” I ask while stabbing the red slime with my fork.
He leans forward with his elbows on the table, the lighting illuminating his chiseled facial features as he leans closer to me. “It’s ham in a tomato sauce on top
of bread.”
“Ah,” is all that comes out my mouth, not wanting to tell him that I’m not a fan of ham. The ham doesn’t even look like it’s cooked. With Cal intently watching me, I pick it up, salute him with my food, and take a large bite. My taste buds immediately send my brain warning signals that slime is not welcomed in this mouth, and all I want to do is spit it out in my napkin. I refuse to show my agony, and I grip the napkin in my lap tightly while I slowly chew the slime, hoping that if my teeth grind it into small pieces, I will be able to swallow it. Cal has a look of pure, smug satisfaction while he fills my wine glass up. I eye the glass, knowing I am going to need it to push the contents down my throat. He rests his chin in his hand and waits for my next move. He is completely enjoying my reaction. Not able to take it anymore, I grab my wine glass and down it, choking on the food as it barely makes its way down my throat. He throws his head back and laughs while I wipe my mouth with my napkin. I can’t hide the sour look on my face any longer.
“I have never been more entertained by watching someone eat as I was in that moment,” he says after he stops laughing.
“That stuff is awful,” the thought of it making me shudder. “You are never allowed to order food for me again.”
“Is this your first time eating French cuisine?”
“Does a French bakery count? What about french fries?” I joke, knowing full well that french fries are not even considered to be French.
“You need to go to France one day, Jenna. It’s such a beautiful country, and the food is delicious.”
“So I have been told, and I would love to. I want to see all of Europe. I have been to Italy and Greece ,and loved both of those countries. I can’t even imagine what the rest of Europe is like.”
“When you were in Italy, did you notice certain types of meats they offered on their menus in restaurants?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye.
Heartbreak Warfare Page 4