Vegas Sunrise

by Fern Michaels

  “Oh, Ash, you finally remembered her name. Did you have anything to do with this?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “Nah.”

  “Liar.”

  “Did you say something, Mom?”

  “I talk to myself sometimes.”

  “That’s not good, Mom.”

  “In this case it is. Trust me.”

  “If you say so. Did I ever thank you for being my mother?”

  “Hundreds of times.”

  “Wanna hear it again?”

  “You bet.”

  19

  Fanny led Ruby to a small table in the far corner of the Harem Lounge. “I really don’t like sitting on a stool at the bar. That’s for men. There are days when I actually miss this place. They’re few and far between, but they do come. I met Marcus here for the first time. Let’s have a cup of coffee and relax. Is anything wrong, Ruby?”

  “Wrong means different things to different people. From my perspective there is nothing wrong. Are you sure Marcus doesn’t mind sitting at the bar with Metaxas?”

  “Not at all. He enjoys his company, and his name intrigues him. By the end of the evening I bet he knows the whys of it all.”

  “I don’t even know. It is a strange name. I never heard it until I met Metaxas. He said it’s because he’s one of a kind. That could be true for all I know. It is a mouthful, though.”

  “Ruby, I want to thank you again for going with Sage to Vermont. Without you and your plane we could have faced a tragedy. I will be forever grateful to you.”

  “You said we were family, Fanny. I took you at your word and only did what you would have done. I don’t mind telling you I was petrified.” Ruby leaned across the table and dropped her voice to a hushed whisper. “Listen to me, Fanny. Ash . . . Ash . . . what he does is . . . he . . . talks to me. He says things that make sense, things that . . . they don’t scare me, they . . . they seem so real. He seems so real. Am I crazy, Fanny? I know we talked about this at Sunrise and everyone had a different spin on it. What do you think, Fanny? I really need to know.”

  Fanny smiled wearily. “On the surface, Ruby, there is a logical explanation for everything. It could be our subconscious working overtime or our own common sense. In the case of Sage and Metaxas, weather balloons. Sunny was always athletic and she camped, skied, and did all sorts of outdoor things. Little things you learn along the way stick with you. You don’t realize it until you face some monumental event in your life. When it’s down to the wire, Ruby, it’s whatever works for you. Speaking for myself, I choose to believe. However, I’m not going to take a full page ad out in the Nevada Sun and announce it to the world. I don’t mind if the rest of the family knows because it brings us all closer. I think we all have a higher comfort level now believing Ash is looking after us. At least I do. Did I help, Ruby?”

  “It’s pretty much how I feel, too. It was so real, Fanny. Metaxas believes. Here is this bigger-than-life Texan, someone you know just by looking at him is in total, complete control, telling me he had this . . . ethereal experience. It was like he was talking about his grocery list. If it were anyone but you and Metaxas, I think I’d run for cover.”

  “Is that what you wanted to talk about, Ruby?”

  “That was part of it. I was wondering, Fanny, if you would allow me to get married at Sunrise. I’ll do all the planning. Iris is busy, and with her being pregnant, I don’t want to burden her.”

  Fanny grinned widely. “Will you let me handle the details, Ruby? Sunny and Harry are getting married over Christmas. Sunny was pretty adamant about it. They didn’t pick a date yet. Is that too soon or too late or were you thinking about spring or summer? Can I make your dress? Or do you want a gown? I have the time, Ruby. A double wedding would be nice.”

  Ruby beamed. “I think so. Metaxas will agree to anything I want. He’s wonderful, isn’t he, Fanny?”

  “I always thought so. I’m so glad it worked out for you.”

  “Me too. That’s what I want to talk to you about. I’ll be moving to Texas. I want to give you Thornton Chickens. It really belongs to all of you. I have no children. The lawyers can handle the legal end of it. I’m sure it isn’t going to be one of those cut-and-dried things. I thought. . . that you and Marcus could run the business. It’s going to be important for him to have something to do. Retirement is wonderful when you’re old. Both of you are so vital, so energetic. The company could use you. Everything’s set with The Chicken Palaces. I hate to admit this, but Celia did a bang-up job.”

  “I never understood that, Ruby.”

  “I wanted to get her away from Iris and Sage. Iris thought . . . all kinds of things. It seemed like the thing to do at the time. It worked, too. She’s going to be working out of our Los Angeles office starting tomorrow. I want you to keep her on. I gave my word, and I don’t like going back on it. I didn’t have a problem with her. I don’t think you will either. If you and Marcus agree to take over, you can terminate her employment if she doesn’t live up to her contract. I don’t think that will happen, though. She’s going to get some very nice residual checks. This is all off the top of my head, Fanny. I want to go with Metaxas without any worries. I never made a secret of how I hate the chicken business. I never wanted it, but how do you give something like that back? Sallie made it possible for Dad and Mom to have it. It was Sallie’s money that funded it from the git-go. Mom said that a hundred times. There is . . . ah, one other little thing, Fanny. The . . . ranch goes with the deal. I know, I know,” Ruby said throwing her hands in the air.

  “The ranch too! Oh, Ruby, I don’t . . . oh Lord, that means Marcus and I would . . . oh, Ruby, I don’t . . .”

  “What she means is okay, we’ll do it!” Marcus said from the bar.

  “Marcus, the ranch goes with the deal. It’s a package,” Fanny said.

  “I’ll throw in my yellow Wellington boots,” Ruby said. “You need them to wade through the chicken poop. Dad’s are green. They’ll fit Marcus. They never wear out!”

  “Fanny, how can we refuse an offer like that?” The laughter in her husband’s eyes brought a smile to Fanny’s face.

  “I don’t know the first thing about being a . . . madam. Ruby, I don’t think I could do that.”

  “It goes with the deal. You don’t actually have to do anything. The ranch is run like a business. It has its own business manager, its own accountant, its own bank account. You review the account four times a year and that’s it.”

  “Sallie must be up there spinning in circles at this turn of events. Lord, what will the kids think? Marcus, do you really . . .”

  “I think it’s a great idea. We’ll be together in our Wellingtons. You can make curtains for the chicken coops. It will give us something to do. You said you wanted to contribute. Let’s face it, Fanny, the world eats chicken. We can do that free-range thing Birch was talking about. The possibilities are endless. We’ll talk about the ranch end of things later. What is the asking price?”

  “There is no price, Marcus. Ruby wants to give the company back to the family.”

  “Give?”

  “Yes, give. As in free.”

  “I might have some trouble with that. That’s not good business sense, Ruby.”

  “Makes perfect sense to me,” Metaxas drawled. “They’d laugh me right out of the state of Texas if I brought home a wife who owned a chicken ranch. It’s my sweet baby’s decision. Whatever she wants is what I want. It’s yours.”

  “Ruby, I don’t know what to say,” Fanny said.

  “Just say yes. Please.”

  “Well, I . . .”

  “Please, Fanny,” Ruby implored.

  “Can . . . can you wait a few minutes? I have to go to the ladies’ room.” Fanny was off her chair and headed for the women’s lounge around the corner from the bar. She ran to the stall at the end of the room and locked the door. “Ash! I need you. Right now. C’mon, c’mon, I don’t have all night.”

  “This is th
e ladies’ room, Fanny.”

  “No one else is in here. Whisper. What should I do? I’m dithering here, Ash.”

  “Those yellow Wellingtons will look good on you, Fanny.”

  “Is that a yes, Ash?”

  “Thornton Chickens belongs to the family. Ruby’s doing the right thing. Be gracious in your acceptance.”

  “What about the . . . you know . . . ?”

  “What about it? It’s the oldest profession on the books.”

  “Damn it, Ash, listen to me. I’ve tried these last years to be my own person. I made up my mind I wasn’t going to end up like Sallie. It’s a goddamn package deal is what it is. What about the kids?”

  “The ranch is a separate entity, Fanny. If you really want my opinion, I say go for it. Just think about it, Fanny. Picture this, two or three Chicken Palaces in every big city in the United States. You could become bigger than those hamburger joints. You don’t have anything else to do. Give it a shot.”

  “What if Marcus and I hate it?”

  “You won’t. It’s going to be good for Marcus. A man needs to feel he’s doing something worthwhile. Taking up space, traveling, gardening isn’t his answer. This is something he can sink his teeth into.”

  “And the . . . ranch?”

  “Just part of the deal, Fanny. Fanny?”

  “What?”

  “Mom wasn’t a madam. She did things other people wouldn’t do to survive. I didn’t understand that for a long time. It was Red Ruby’s choice to do what she did. Mom just cleaned up the business and helped her, the way she helped half the people in Las Vegas. Remember that, okay.”

  “Okay, Ash.”

  “Can I go now? I really don’t like hanging out in women’s bathrooms. Tell Ruby I’ll be at the wedding. She deserves to be happy.”

  “I’ll tell her, Ash. Thanks.”

  Back in the Harem Lounge, Fanny took her place at the table. “What did he say?” Marcus hissed.

  “He said . . . he said . . . go for it!”

  “Then it’s a done deal?” Mataxas queried.

  Fanny’s voice was jittery, her face white. “It’s a done deal.”

  “Fanny, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” Ruby said.

  “We are one weird family, Ruby.” Fanny leaned across the table. “Ash said to tell you he’ll be at the wedding. He said you deserve to be happy.”

  Ruby burst into tears. In the blink of an eye, Metaxas had her in his arms and was carrying her across the casino floor singing, “Deep in the Heart of Texas” at the top of his lungs. Onlookers clapped and whistled their approval.

  Fanny’s voice was still jittery when she said, “I guess we’re in the chicken business, Marcus.”

  “I can’t wait to see you in those yellow Wellingtons.”

  “Sadist.”

  “Fanny, look at me. I love you so much my heart aches. I know in my heart that feeling is never going to leave me. I just wanted you to know.”

  “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone ever said to me. Let’s go home, Mr. Reed.”

  “We don’t have a home, Mrs. Reed.”

  “Sure we do. Home is wherever we are. Together. Home is where your stuff is. We have some stuff upstairs. For now, until we move out to the ranch, it’s home.”

  “Home is the sweetest word in the English language. Actually, it’s the fifth best word after, Mom, Dad, kids, and love,” Marcus said.

  “Oh, yeah,” Fanny said snuggling against her husband’s chest. “I love you, Marcus.”

  “Be happy, Fanny.”

  Fanny stumbled and righted herself, her hold on Marcus’s arm secure. If it had been daylight, her smile would have rivaled the sun.

  “What did he say, Fanny?”

  Fanny didn’t bother pretending she didn’t understand. “He told me to be happy.”

  “Are you happy, Fanny?”

  “Marcus Reed, I am the happiest woman alive, and that is never going to change. So there.”

  “So there yourself, Fanny Reed.”

  Celia Thornton sat in her car staring up at the lighted window of her apartment. Was Jeff still there? Not that it mattered. Was it worth going up to the ugly, mean little apartment to disconnect the phone, to get the answering machine, and the few things she’d left in the bathroom? Her money was in her purse. Her clothes and incidentals were in the trunk of the leased car. She could leave right now and not look back. She rolled down the window to take deep, gulping breaths.

  Fanny Thornton was the one who had the Polaroid pictures. There for one brief instant, in the upstairs bedroom at Sunrise, they had stared into each other’s eyes. Fanny wasn’t going to do anything. Of that she was certain. To do anything would be to destroy her family. Without words they’d come to an understanding: She would live her life and the Thorntons would live theirs. As long as those lives remained problem-free, the pictures would remain safely hidden. She supposed it was a fair trade-off.

  Celia leaned back against the plush leather seat. Earlier, Ruby had called her to tell her of her plan to turn Thornton Chickens over to Fanny and Marcus Reed. She’d almost fainted until Ruby said her contract would be honored by Fanny, and the sooner she could get to Los Angeles the better it would be for everyone.

  The 260,000 dollars, her percentage from the blackjack tables, was safe under the seat. She knew in her gut, in her heart, in her mind, that Fanny would let sleeping dogs lie as long as she made herself scarce where the Thornton family was concerned. Instinct told her one claim against the family would end Fanny’s silence. Until and unless Fanny was prepared to confront her, the stupid, ugly pictures would remain a silent threat. Celia was no fool. She’d played the game too long not to know how it worked. If she factored in her salary, she could live comfortably until the birth of her child. The residuals from the commercials would be icing on the cake and pay for day care if she decided to keep working after she gave birth.

  Everything in her life had changed with the results of her lab test. Even her thinking had changed. One minute she was Celia Connors Thornton, married to one of the richest men in Nevada. One second later she was Celia Connors Thornton, mother-to-be. The greedy, conniving, manipulative Celia Thornton ceased to exist the moment she read the lab report. She felt vulnerable, scared, and lost.

  She thought about her future. Maybe she’d learn to cook. Maybe a lot of things. Ruby had said something about a new series of commercials with a family for The Chicken Palaces. She’d play the mother and actors would play the children and husband. According to Ruby it was Audrey Bernstein who came up with the idea of using two little girls named Corinne and Jessica who would become household names once the commercials aired. It would probably work, too. Everyone loved a family.

  What was she waiting for? Why was she sitting here staring at this seedy building? If she drove all night, she could make L.A. by morning. “I’ll never have to see Jeff Lassiter again,” she muttered. She thought about the formula Jeff had given her that was safely hidden in the bottom of her makeup case. Anytime she wanted, she could head for Atlantic City and do what she’d done in Vegas for Lassiter. If she wanted to. “I hope you croak, you bastard!”

  Celia switched on the headlights and turned the key in the ignition. The engine snarled to life in the quiet night. She was about to pull away from the curb when a Jeep Cherokee pulled in front of her, the headlights blinding her.

  “Celia, wait!”

  Birch! Celia slammed the car in reverse, the headlights trapping her in their bright glare. She was about to shift into first gear when Birch reached the door.

  “Celia, wait!”

  “For what?”

  “I want to talk to you. What’s a few minutes out of your life?”

  “I’m in a hurry, Birch. I thought we said everything that needed to be said on the mountain.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I told you, Los Angeles. I plan to drive all night. What can you possibly want from me? I have nothing to give you.”
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  “Just tell me the truth, are you pregnant?”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything. Please, get out of my way.”

  “If you are pregnant . . .”

  “Yes,” Celia drawled.

  “You hate kids. You said that yourself. What I’m trying to say here is, if you are pregnant, don’t do anything foolish. I’ll take the child.”

  The sound Celia made deep in her throat was somewhere between a sob and a howl of misery. “I’m not good enough for you, but my child is? If I’m pregnant, that is. If we’re talking hypothetically here, how do you know I won’t turn out to be the world’s best mother? I could turn out to be a better mother than your own. I will never, ever forgive you for what you just said. Was it your intention to offer me money for the child, assuming I’m pregnant? Don’t bother to answer that question. I can see it in your eyes. Get the hell away from me.”

  “Let’s not end it like this, Celia.”

  “You’re the one who slapped me around, Birch. You’re the one who was unfaithful, and you don’t want to end it like this. Go to hell.”

  “You aren’t blameless here.”

  “That’s true. I’m not. That’s why I’m leaving. I’m sorry for my part in all of this. I got by before I met you, and I can get by again.”

  “Yeah, thanks to my family. Ruby is paying you five times what the job is worth. You took the casino for some heavy money. Thornton money.”

  “That’s the way the old cookie crumbles. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I’m beginning to hate the Thornton name. I’m giving it up. Your half brother petitioned the courts to have his name changed from Lassiter to Thornton. Too bad I couldn’t just give him my name. He could have saved some legal fees. I’ll give you thirty days to file for the divorce. If you don’t, I will. I don’t want anything from you or your family, so that should make it quick and easy.”

  “Are you pregnant, Celia?”

  “None of your damn business. You gave up the right to know anything about me when you went to bed with Libby Maxwell. Look, Birch, this was all wrong. I’m willing to take the blame for everything. The only way I can make it right is to walk away, which is what I’m trying to do right now. When something’s over it’s over. We can’t get it back because we didn’t have anything to begin with. You’re going to get on with your life, and I’m going to get on with mine. I doubt if we’ll ever see each other again. I wish you the best. I mean that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a long drive ahead of me.”