“Whew. So it wasn’t me?” he asked.
“Not in the least,” I assured him, thinking about the more pleasurable parts of that elevator ride.
“So what’s the deal with your running off? I looked everywhere for you. Even went back upstairs at Stratus, thinking you might be with your friend Ladonna. She was no help,” Julian offered.
“Oh. That,” I muttered. “I was suffering from too much champagne and vodka shots. Also, had a crazy anxiety attack from out of nowhere. I haven’t had those since I was teenager,” I lied.
“Might be time for some Xanax or something,” he semi-jested. My run-off was pretty extreme. “We don’t have to pick up right where we left off. But our time is short and I do want to see more of you.”
“I think you saw quite a bit last night,” I joked.
“You know what I mean. But speaking of that, it was kind of limited. I normally hate being on the clock. I like to take my time . . . make love to the woman I’m feeling.”
“Oh? If you’re trying to impress me, mission accomplished.”
“Artemis?”
“Yeah, Julian?”
“When you freaked out, you said something about ‘doing it again’. Is some of this related to your last relationship ?” he questioned.
“Okay. You might say that,” I admitted. “Which is kinda why I can be a little prickly to deal with.” Everything from that moment was such a blur that I probably left a lot of clues for Julian to pick up on; so much for making up shit about teenage anxiety disorders.
“Just admitting that is big,” he noted. “Look . . . I’m getting a notice from my bank that I need to call them immediately, so . . .”
“Go on and handle your business. I’ll be fine. Holler at me later.”
“So if I knock you might answer this time?”
“If I’m here,” I mocked, being coy. I had no plans and it was probably best for the world at large if I spent my final night alone in my suite renting On Demand movies.
And right on time, there popped up a text from Lowell.
Where to? was his simple message.
Chapter 22
Lowell promised to only take up an hour of my time, but gave the ominous warning to dress comfortably. This time when I came down to the lobby, I couldn’t find him.
I texted him. U here?
“Yes, I am,” a cordial, deep voice replied in my ear from behind me almost immediately after sending the text.
“Boy, that shit ain’t funny!” I yelped, startled by the stealth moves he’d put on me. As I went to playfully slap him on his shoulder, I was stunned by the full view I got of Lowell. No wonder I didn’t spot him, as I’d come downstairs expecting to see his black driver’s suit as always. Instead, he switched things up, pretty appealing in his jeans, black biker boots, and patched leather vest. If he wasn’t a member of the Village People, he most certainly was a rider then.
“Glad to see you still gracing our lovely manufactured city,” he said as he removed his Ray-Ban sunglasses in his leather-gloved hand. Those green eyes of his were just so fun to get lost in.
“You’re in luck. This is my last night,” I offered as I gave him a warm hug and nervously allowed him a kiss on my cheek, but was struck with those conflicting feelings again. Despite what went down with Julian last night, neither one of us had expressed it to be anything more than a spontaneous hookup. And, frankly, after my panicky “hit and run,” I imagined, despite his talk, Julian probably classified it in kind.
But if that was the case, why did letting Lowell kiss me in a place where Julian might catch me seem shady? I guess this person I was pretending to be had a scandalous nature to her, kind of how my sister Anitra probably envisioned me anyway for sleeping with “her man,” Carlos.
“I figured as much,” he stated. “Sorry I didn’t reach out to you last night, but somebody got a hold of my credit card data and ran up a shitload of charges. I’ve been busy closing my account and trying to figure when it happened. Just finished this morning.”
“That’s so awful,” I exclaimed. “I hate thieves. Any leads?”
“I don’t think it happened online, so I guess maybe when I took you out for barbecue. Funny,” he said, pausing to reflect, “because I’ve been going there for years. Thought I could trust them. Did you notice anything strange that day?”
“Other than those guys calling you ‘Weasel’? No,” I admitted.
“Oh well,” he said with a shrug as I checked him out and his rugged look. The Weasel comment didn’t even faze him this time, so the credit card thing must’ve pissed him off more than he let on. I guess if I had money, I’d be too through also.
“What did you do anyway last night?” he asked, moving on from that which pissed him off.
“It was major,” I bragged. “I went with my friend Ladonna to a concert at the top of Stratus. If you go on my Facebook page, you can see some of the pics I posted from my phone.”
“You’re talking about that private show with Royal T. and Natalia?”
“Yes! That was it!” I beamed. “Were you planning on being there?”
“Ooooh no,” he piped. “Those ‘one night only’ private affairs are a little too pricey for my liking, but because of my job, I gotta be aware of all the happenings.”
“I not only danced with Natalia’s backup dancers, I got to go on stage with Royal T.,” I crowed like some thirsty, basic chick.
“Now . . . see, you’re taking your Las Vegas experience and maximizing the hell outta it,” Lowell teased with a huge smile, not letting me figure out if he was mocking me.
“True. Who woulda thought. But it’s good to see you not working for a change,” I told him as I stole another glance at his muscular legs poured into those jeans.
“And I’m glad to see you listened to me and dressed comfortably,” he said, eyeing my attire: a blue and white Nike jogging suit that I normally wore on weekends.
“I can listen sometimes, but what do you have planned?”
“Ever been on a motorcycle?” He grinned.
“Oh my gawd, oh my gawd, oh my gawd!” I yelled, my heart pumping and arms clamped tight around Lowell’s waist like an iron vise. I’d spent most of the adrenaline-packed ride to Lake Mead with my face buried in the patch on the back of his black leather vest that said WEASEL.
“Are you all right?” Lowell asked as he looked back at me, his hands still resting on the bike’s handlebars as he revved the throttle.
It was hard to hear over the loud rumble of the Harley-Davidson’s pipes down by my feet. “Yes! Shit yeah!” I squealed as I finally relaxed my grip. I’d held on so hard, you’d think I was performing the Heimlich on him. It didn’t hurt that Lowell had stopped to let me enjoy the stunning view of the Las Vegas Valley from up here. The trip to the north summit went so insanely fast that it felt like we made it in mere minutes. I don’t think I’d ever been so scared, yet so exhilarated, in my life.
“Like I said. Just an hour of your time. Too bad it took ten minutes of that convincing you the helmet wouldn’t mess up your hair . . . that much,” he clowned as he turned off his motorcycle. The man definitely knew how to ride.
“You’re just lucky I’m not vain . . . that much,” I countered, stifling a giggle as I got off the hog and carefully removed Lowell’s helmet. “Ride up here a lot?” I asked, letting my ears hear normally.
“I could show you so much more, but don’t want to monopolize your limited time. Maybe next time you’re out here? Or when I take a road trip to Texas?” he suggested as he dismounted from the large-engine bike.
“You’re making the very big assumption that I found this fun. And that I like your company,” I posed, leaving him to mull that over. I walked across the loose desert gravel for a better look at the mountains and manmade lake around us. This view alone was worth my trip.
Without responding to my taunt, Lowell came up behind me and reciprocated, wrapping his arms around my waist for this part of the road trip. For a l
ong, deep moment, the two of us just took in the view without speaking. Feeling him pressed so firmly up against my ass did make my mind shift from natural wonders to wondering how he’d naturally feel hitting it from the back.
“What is your truth, Artemis?” he asked, breaking the silence. With us so close, his bellowing voice resonated through my body like an echo chamber.
“In what way?” I responded. “This have to do with what happened to your credit card?”
“It was more open-ended and philosophical than that, but if that’s where your mind takes you . . .”
“Look . . . you don’t know me like that, but . . .”
“But I want to know you like that. Can’t you tell?” he asked, still holding me tight. Part of me wondered if it was to not let me escape in case I confessed and he had to call the cops.
“You want the truth?” I asked him.
“The better question is, do you?”
I reached back, comfortably placing my hand on the back of his neck where I caressed it, but kept my gaze fixed on the beyond. “I am from Katy, but I don’t own any company. Hell, I don’t even own a job right now. I am beyond dead broke and drowning in debt, but what I do know is that I never stole anything a day in my life. Well . . . that is until I stole your heart today.”
“Funny,” Lowell deadpanned.
“Hee. Hee,” I shot back.
Chapter 23
Lowell delivered me back to Aquos on his Harley, but a little past the hour in which he’d promised. That was my fault for getting chatty out at Lake Mead like I was high inside a smoky cave or something and on a vision quest. But I felt better for it.
Thing is, after spilling my guts, I didn’t truly know whether Lowell believed all or even just a portion of my 4-1-1.
“Don’t forget. I got you for tomorrow. Text me your flight info later,” he reminded me as I got off his bike and handed his helmet back. With his motorcycle still running and rumbling, we kissed. It was a slow, deliberate burn between us with our lips as an introduction. An introduction hinting what might come later.
Lowell took my hand and placed it to his chest just inside his vest. “Feel that?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied, admiring his firm muscle tone.
“I had a physical last month and get checked out annually, Artemis. Part of my benefits coverage through my company. And I work out. Don’t worry. I’m nothing like your last boyfriend or your deceased husband,” he offered.
“So you believe me?” I asked, smiling wildly with relief.
“I have to. Nobody would make up a story about bad luck like that,” he said with a chuckle. “But might be something we hypothetically revisit maybe next time I’m your way.”
Lowell rode off, the valets admiring his Harley, as I walked toward the front door and the smiling greeter eager and ready to “welcome me to my adventure.” But in the door reflection, I saw a police car. I looked back out of curiosity and saw what the officers were doing.
The two of them were signing paperwork for a flatbed tow truck driver. And on that flatbed was Ladonna’s black sports car. It was unmistakable, for I’d remember those tiny-ass seats for the rest of my life. Images of Ladonna improperly parking it came to mind, but she could afford the ticket.
Inside the hotel lobby, the mermaids still swam beneath me. I was going up to my suite to begin packing for my trip home, but decided to check my most recent balance at the front desk.
“Hello, Ms. Clay. How may I help you?” the woman said as I walked up. I hesitated, knowing she couldn’t have memorized my face and name like that. That was before realizing my VIP bracelet was inside my purse. It must’ve still given off a signal.
“I leave in the morning and just wanted to confirm my current bill total,” I lied. I could get that off my little touch screen up in the suite. What I really wanted to see if they had any issues with my credit card’s limit beforehand.
“Uh . . . Ms. Clay, could I see your bracelet?” she asked. “We’re having some issues of someone possibly counterfeiting our bracelets and accessing our system. So we’re checking each guest’s to make sure they’re working properly.”
“Um . . . sure,” I said as I reached in my purse and retrieved my accessory for her. Just over her shoulder, a man was kinda lurking. He stood out by not wearing the uniforms like everybody else. Maybe he was a corporate auditor, quality control or something, because he was watching not just me, but all the customers who approached the desk. After checking my bracelet and comparing it to something on her glass screen, she handed it back to me with a warm apology, then gave me my bill balance. With room service, the spa, and everything else, my card had barely enough to cover it. But I still had Ladonna’s gift cards.
On my way to the grand ol’ bubble elevator to magically take me to my floor, a woman in a white baseball cap and baggy pink cotton warm-ups whistled to herself while wrestling with three large bags of rolling luggage. Minding my own business and feeling a little melancholy about my adventure rapidly coming to an end, I kept on walking.
Until she whistled again.
At me.
“Amiss,” she hissed.
I did a double take, but nobody else would call me that.
“Ladonna?” I asked, confused by my friend’s sudden unimpressive fashion sense. At least she still had one of her signature “big-ass bags” on her arm. “What are you doing?”
“I moved to another hotel and just transferring my stuff,” she said as she moved close to one of the nosier waterfalls in this place rather than in my direction. It was very anti-social of her, even for dealing with me.
“Why?” I asked as I walked to her instead.
“They took issue with some of my partying and said I made disparaging remarks to the staff. They really need to reevaluate how they award five stars to some of these places. How was your night with Mr. Julian?” she asked, still struggling with all her luggage.
“It didn’t end quite as planned,” I replied, shaking my head. “Need a hand?”
“Would you please, dear?” she asked. I frowned, remembering her only calling me “dear” one other time as opposed to “bitch” or “Amiss.” That was at the club and in front of Julian.
“Looking a little underwhelming, aren’t you?” I asked Ladonna.
“If you must know, I’m feeling under the weather and also don’t want my new hotel trying to gouge me based on my fabulousness either,” was her reasoning.
“If you say so,” I responded with a shrug. “Do you know they just towed your car away?” I asked before I forgot about it.
“Yeah, I know,” she moaned. “When it rains, it pours. I’ll get it out of impound later. I have one small favor . . . before you help me carry this stuff out.”
“Sure. Whatcha need?”
“Could you let me borrow your bracelet?” she asked.
“Uh . . . why would you need mine?” I questioned.
“Because when I got into it with the staff and they told me to leave, they took mine. Now, I have several more bags in my suite, but no way to access my floor without it.”
“Um . . . okay. I guess,” I said as I tried to figure out why she didn’t just use a dolly from the concierge. Maybe when a hotel kicked you out, they really cut you off. And she did have a ton of shopping bags up there.
“Great! Stay right here with my stuff and I’ll be right back down with the remainder,” she instructed me.
I sat on a sofa nearest Ladonna’s luggage and tried to guestimate how many more bags she was going to bring down. While I waited, I retrieved my phone to see if Julian had texted me.
“Ma’am, may I ask what you’re doing?” a man asked as he approached me.
“Waiting on a friend. This is her luggage,” I matter-of-factly offered as I went back to looking at my phone.
“Do you have your hotel bracelet?” he continued.
Damn, man. Go on. Find someone else to hassle. “My friend has it. She’ll be right down,” I replied right at the
moment I realized he wasn’t wearing the standard black uniform of the hotel staff. He was that same man I’d seen earlier lurking by the front desk. And he wasn’t smiling.
I went to get off the lobby sofa when two powerful sets of hands grabbed me by my shoulders. It was two more men who’d joined us, sneaking up behind me.
The police officers from outside the hotel.
As one whispered into his radio, the other one addressed me. “Ma’am, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. You also have the right to an attorney,” he began reciting.
“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything!” I yelled as I tried to move out from under the too-firm hand on my shoulder. When I did that, they threw me to the floor and handcuffed my hands behind my back.
I kept protesting, but it was like they were suddenly deaf, acting all antsy and stuff like I was a big deal or something. And there, from on my stomach, I spied Ladonna.
She scurried along the far wall, bypassing the commotion with my hotel bracelet on her arm.
She stole one quick glance toward me, seeing the fear and surprise in my eyes.
Then kept walking.
Chapter 24
“Credit card fraud and theft? What the fuck is this all about?” I yelled, reciting the charges they’d told me before throwing me in the police van.
She didn’t speak. Instead, she just sat there across from me, stoic.
Not me. I was stressing in a major way.
“And why did you try leaving me there?” I asked Ladonna. If I wasn’t restrained, I’d have put dem hands on her.
This bitch tried to get away back at Aquos, but ran right into two more officers who were just waiting for her to try to escape.
And now, my stupid ass was caught up in whatever this was by coincidence. Guilt by association.
“Ladonna, say something!” I snarled. “Or I swear I will—”
“My name ain’t Ladonna,” she finally replied, cutting me off in a completely different accent than I’d ever heard escape her lips. This one sounded deep, syrupy South. “And this ain’t gonna turn out too nice.”
Carl Weber Presents Full Figured 6: Plus Size Divas Page 23