by Rosanna Leo
It was dark there, even in the daytime, but he just wanted to do a short cooldown before heading back to his apartment. Walking slowly, hands on hips, he paced the alley.
It might actually be a bit too dark there. He’d get some lighting installed so his staff didn’t have to smoke while looking over their shoulders.
One more item on the to-do list.
Alex rolled his head to stretch out his neck muscles.
Only then, did he notice the shadow in the furthest corner of the alley.
He froze.
The shadow spoke. “It’s been a long time, Alex.”
“Gordon? Is that you?”
Shannon’s brother emerged, clean-shaven and his head shaved. His lack of hair made him appear slimmer, almost gaunt in comparison, and nothing like the hairy, beefy man Alex had known. This man could walk right into Vice, past the undercover cops, and no one would connect him to the Dean family.
Even in the low light of the alley, Alex could see Gordon held a crowbar. His fist was tight around its base, his knuckles straining.
“You should probably put that down, friend.”
“Friend. That’s hilarious.”
“The cops are looking for you.”
“I know.”
Alex took a step back.
“Don’t even think of running.”
Alex opened his arms wide. “You want to hit me with that thing?”
Gordon slapped the crowbar against his other palm. “I haven’t decided yet. Truth is, I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time. It’s been playing in my head on a loop, only with different outcomes every time. Sometimes I shoot you. Sometimes I stab you. But most of the time, I pound your head on the floor, making you bleed the way Shannon did.”
“You know as well as I do, Shannon’s death was an accident.”
“Don’t you say her name!” Gordon pointed the crowbar. “Don’t you dare mention her name. You don’t deserve to speak it.” He choked back a sob. “My baby sister shouldn’t have died like that. She shouldn’t have died at all.”
“You’re right.” Alex blinked back his own tears. “She shouldn’t have. I would do anything to bring her back.”
“Liar! The last conversation you had with her was an argument. You told the police she suspected you of cheating. My sister was no fool. You must have been cheating.”
“I never cheated on her, not once. But we had our problems.”
“So you got rid of your little problem, didn’t you? Tell me, Alex. You were at some fancy resort. How much did you have to pay to get one of the locals to polish her off? How much was her life worth to you?”
“I did not pay someone to kill Shannon. I cared for her.”
“Cared for her, huh? You just didn’t love her.”
“I didn’t anymore! Is that what you need to hear?” Hot tears slipped between Alex’s eyelids. He wiped them away. “I tried. God knows I tried. The truth is, Shannon and I were over long before we got on that plane. I couldn’t take it anymore. The constant snipping, the accusations. You want to know something, Gordon? I wanted to fucking cheat! I dreamed about it, about going to Shannon and laying it all out in front of her. She never believed I could be faithful so why was I trying so hard? But no, I didn’t. Because, deep down, I couldn’t hurt her like that, not when other men had already done it. She never trusted me, no matter how hard I tried to help her heal. When I took her to Bermuda, it was one last attempt to save what we had. There was no need for me to try to kill her. We were already through.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You know what? I don’t fucking care. I have danced around you and your parents long enough. I tried so hard to be respectful, to offer support, and all you people have done is drag my name through the mud. You wouldn’t let me come to Shannon’s funeral, wouldn’t even let me grieve her!”
His entire body coiled, Alex finally let his despair manifest. On a wail, he punched the brick wall. Pain exploded up his arm. He crumpled to the ground, cradling his bloody fist.
In his moment of weakness, as he huddled against the wall, Alex expected to feel the whack of the crowbar. He might even have welcomed it in the anguish of that moment.
Gordon dropped the crowbar and kicked it toward the dumpster at the back of the alley. He stared at his hands, horrified.
All was still in the alley. Although sirens blared down the Strip, the soundtrack of Las Vegas, they weren’t for him. The cacophony faded and all Alex heard was his breath and Gordon’s breath as they both struggled with their thoughts.
He dropped to the ground next to Alex and reached for his hand.
Alex pulled away.
“Let me look at your hand. I’m not going to hurt you.” When Alex offered him his arm, Gordon inspected the wound. “I’m no doctor, but you might have a fracture. You should probably get this checked out.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to feel pain?”
“I don’t know what I want anymore, Alex. My life is so messed up. It seems like yesterday my dad was telling me Shannon had died, and now here I am, in an alley with you and your broken fist. I don’t remember how I got here. It’s a blur.”
“I know. It’s been a blur for me too.”
Gordon wiped his eyes. “My car’s parked around the corner. I can take you to the hospital.”
“You mean, dump my body?”
“No body dumping today, I promise.” Gordon stood and held out his hand. “Let me help you up.”
Alex hesitated, but then extended his left hand.
***
“Welcome back, stranger? How was your Vegas stay-cation?”
“Great, Phil.” Dana smiled at her boss and set her briefcase down next to her desk. She should have known he’d want a debrief the minute she got through the door. “Really great, thanks.”
She wasn’t even sure why she’d come in this morning. She’d taken today off, an opportunity to recover from her week with the girls. However, as soon as she’d walked into her condo early that morning, she changed into some work clothes and had walked right out.
It was too empty. She didn’t want a day alone at home. She wanted to be at work, surrounded by deadlines and distractions.
“Did you like Vice? Pretty swanky, huh?”
“Yeah. I got bumped to a penthouse suite.”
“No kidding? Your sister must have been over the moon.”
“It was really nice. We definitely, um, took advantage of all the amenities.”
“Wow.” Phil stood at her desk, slurping his coffee and smiling. “So, is it true what they say? What happens in Vegas and all that jazz?”
“You’re the head of the convention and visitor’s association. I’d assume you know all about that.”
He chuckled. “I’ve had my moments. Not anymore. The wife keeps me on a tight leash nowadays.”
“Now, now, Phil. Remember what I taught you? We don’t say the wife anymore. Pam has a name. It’s good to use it.” There may have been a slight sharpness in her tone, but she didn’t rein it in. Phil loved it when she talked this way. In fact, he’d told her one of the reasons he’d hired her was because she didn’t pull punches. He might be old school and it sometimes slipped out in conversation, but he appreciated her frankness.
“One of these days, I’ll learn, kid. And by then, they will have hung me out to dry. You’ll be running this show then.” He nodded toward her laptop. “What does your day look like?”
“Busy. I’ll be touching base with Leon Corcoran from the Shriners this morning to finalize details, and I have calls set up with the teachers’ federation and the auto convention folks.”
“Do you think you can squeeze in another little project?”
The last little project Phil gave her was a convention of seven thousand accountants. She fully expected the same this time. Not that she was complaining. She wanted to stay busy.
Busy was good.
Busy wouldn’t allow her to dwell on a certain pa
ir of eyes and the disappointment she’d seen in them.
“Sure. Who’ve you got for me?”
“Last week, I met with the head of the Mystery Writers Association. I convinced them Vegas is where they need to be for their annual conference in two years’ time. I talked you up. They want you to handle all the details.”
“Great. Sounds exciting.”
“It’s the first time they’ve brought the conference to the Strip, so I want you to pull out all the stops. We need the best shows, the best restaurants, the best hotel.”
Best hotel. One stood head and shoulders above the rest.
“They want Vice.”
Her heart sank. “Oh, yeah? Vice is awesome, but maybe I should reach out to my contacts at the Bellagio or the Venetian. I have a solid relationship with those hotels. I know I can get a good price for them.”
“Really?” Phil made a face. “I thought you said you liked Vice.”
“I do. I just don’t have the same connection with the executive team there.”
Liar. She had a connection, all right. Just not the sort Phil would have condoned.
“Hmm. Well, I’m going to need you to establish that connection right away. They asked for Vice and I promised them Vice. Oh, and see if you can get them into that new club there. What’s it called again? Covet! That’s it. Get them into Covet. If anyone can pull it off, you can. I’ve sent you an email with the contact details for the mystery writers. And before you ask, no, her name isn’t Miss Marple.” Laughing at his own joke, Phil walked back to his own office. “I’ll be in meetings all day. Text if you need me.”
Dana sat in her chair and stared ahead. She’d known she’d have to contact the people at Vice sooner or later. It was the most sought-after hotel in Vegas.
It wasn’t as if she had to deal directly with Alex. He was the owner. He wouldn’t get involved with her convention. He had people to do that sort of thing for him.
Still, if she wanted to, she knew she could text him and tell him about the convention. She could keep it professional. No doubt, he’d respond in kind. After all, no hotel owner worth his salt would turn away that sort of business.
Professional.
Sure. She could see it now. They’d be all handshakes and small talk.
She wouldn’t swoon and he wouldn’t look at her as if he wanted to eat her.
Right.
For the purposes of maintaining a clean break, she’d hoped to avoid dealing with Vice for a while. If she didn’t have to think about Vice or Covet, she wouldn’t have to think of Alex.
A clean break.
A dull throb formed over her temple but she couldn’t afford to think of that either.
Determined, Dana fired up her laptop and started to work.
***
“You got off lucky.” In the hospital parking lot, Gordon held the car door open for Alex.
“I guess I did.” Alex got in, taking care not to jostle his right hand. It still hurt like a sonofabitch. Served him right for getting emotional in front of his stalker and punching a wall.
His wounds had been cleaned and ice had been applied to keep down the swelling, but he’d be wearing a splint for a few weeks. He also had a few weeks of rehab to look forward to.
Gordon got into the driver’s seat and shut the door. “At least your injury sounds kind of badass. A ‘boxer’s fracture.’ Who knew?”
“They should call it an ‘idiot’s fracture.’”
“You’re not an idiot, Alex.”
“I hit a wall.”
Gordon hung his head. “I guess I sort of drove you to it. Listen…I’m sorry about everything.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“I’ve never seen you express any emotion. It was easy to believe you didn’t feel any.”
“Do you still blame me for Shannon’s death?”
“I think I just needed to blame someone, so I blamed you. We shouldn’t have kept you from the funeral. You needed to grieve. You never got the chance, and that’s on me and my folks. I’ll talk to them when I go home. You know, if the cops don’t lock me up for defacing your hotel and coming at you with a crowbar.”
“I’m sure I can talk to the cops.”
“You’d do that?”
“I’m tired, Gordon. I don’t want to fight with you and your parents anymore. I just want to put my life back together.”
He nodded.
“Besides, you never actually came at me with the crowbar. You just sort of waved it in my general direction.”
Gordon chuckled. “If we’re coming clean, I should probably admit I never would have attacked you. I just wanted to scare you into some kind of confrontation. Like I said, my life is messed up.”
“I heard you lost your job.”
“Fifteen years with those bastards. I knew a reorg was coming. I just never guessed it was coming at me.”
“That’s a lot of experience. Shannon used to talk about your work. She was proud of you.” As an idea formed in Alex’s head, he prayed he wouldn’t regret it later. “What if I could find you something in my HR department? Would you be interested?”
Gordon’s jaw dropped.
“It would be a trial, of course.” He grinned. “I’m not a total idiot.”
“That was the last thing I expected you to say.”
“Frankly, it was the last thing I expected to hear coming out of my mouth.”
“That’s generous of you. Thanks, Alex. But I can’t work for you.”
“Too many memories?”
“That, and I have to rebuild my life. This grief, it’s been hard, harder than I ever would have imagined. There are so many things I didn’t say to my sister when I had the chance. I need to start fresh. But I appreciate your offer.”
“So, we’re good?” Alex extended his left hand to shake.
“I want to be. I’m tired too.” He shook his hand.
“I hear you.”
They sat for a while in the car, both of them staring ahead. After a while, Gordon stuck his key in the ignition and turned it. “Would you…it’s going to sound stupid.”
“What?”
“Would you like to see where Shannon’s buried? Next time you’re in New York, I could take you there. Only if you want to, of course.”
“I want to. I’d like that very much.”
“It’s a nice plot. You know, with trees and shrubs nearby.”
“She would have liked that.”
“Yeah. Okay, we’ll do it.” Gordon revved the engine. “I guess I should take you back to your hotel.”
“Where you are staying?”
“Oh, my God, don’t even ask. It’s a total shitbox.”
Alex laughed. “Let’s see if I can’t find you a better room.”
“I don’t want to impose, Alex. After all, I did come all the way to Sin City to, um, cause you bodily harm.”
He held up his bad hand. “I found a way to do that without your help, remember? Let’s go.”
***
It had been two weeks since Dana’s departure from Vice.
She wasn’t coming back.
The cold realization had stricken Alex late one night and had moldered in his gut ever since. He’d held out hope for a couple of days after his encounter with Gordon, figuring she’d go home and realize they were good together.
He hadn’t heard a word from her.
After injuring his hand, he’d hung out in his apartment, working from home for the most part. It had given him time to think.
He didn’t want to lose her but he also didn’t want to pressure her.
Two days ago, he’d caved and texted her. Just a short message to let her know he was thinking of her.
Alex: I hope you’re doing okay.
Forty-eight long hours had elapsed. She hadn’t replied.
“What did you expect?” He rifled through the papers on his desk late one night. “She made her intentions clear.”
He’d thrown himself into his work, as much as he could w
ith the injury. There were still areas of the business he needed to learn, but he could only absorb so much at a time. Just this week, he’d met with the heads of catering, finance, and the hotel spa. His inbox had exploded accordingly. That was his own damn fault. He’d asked to be copied on certain communications. While he appreciated the distractions and the challenges, he also wanted to tell everyone to fuck right off and leave him alone.
Tonight, he was supposed to host another private party at Covet.
It was the last thing he wanted to do.
He was expected to schmooze the in-crowd. All the while, their booth would stand sentry in the corner, a reminder of what he and Dana had shared. The red velvet curtains would mock him. He wasn’t sure he could bear to see anyone else sitting in the space. It would feel like sacrilege.
He checked the time. Like an automaton, he finished up his work, not bothering to put his laptop away. A few papers lay scattered on his desk, as well as two used coffee mugs. He didn’t care.
Taking care not to bump his right hand, he retreated to his bathroom. The doctor had assured him his thermoplastic splint could be worn in the shower, but it was removable, so he’d gotten in the habit of taking it off to shower. Showering, itself, wasn’t easy, but he was getting the hang of washing his hair using only his left hand. He’d never be ambidextrous, but he was getting things done.
After showering, Alex put on some fresh clothes. Out of habit, his gaze landed on his rack of ties, but he’d forsaken them the past couple of weeks. He hadn’t even bothered to tidy up his closet. A pile of dirty clothes sat on the floor.
Dana would laugh if she saw it.
Once again, he thought of her. This time, he was tormented by the memory of her riding him in bed. Her sweet body, slick with sweat. Full thighs, gripping him hard. Her breasts bouncing as she took him deeper.
So beautiful.
He needed to get her out of his head. She’d clearly forgotten about him.
Finished dressing, he headed to Covet.
Alex didn’t say a word to anyone as he strode through the club toward the private rooms in back. As soon as he entered the VIP room, several acquaintances hurried over to greet him. He let himself be led over to one of the couches. A waitress brought him a Coke, even before he could consider what sort of drink he’d like.