I don’t normally pay attention to women unless I’m trying to figure out if they’re worth getting into bed. When I look at Alex, it’s a little like that, not gonna lie. But it’s not only that – I’m trying to figure her out.
Not that this makes any sense either. I don’t usually sit and try to figure out people, not like this. I keep telling myself it’s because I’m sort of hanging out with people in a totally casual setting for once. That the part of my brain that’s so used to assessing people is working overtime.
Grace comes back from the restroom, and instead of sitting where she was, she takes the seat across from me. I feel a momentary jolt of panic when I realize that I’ll have to make small talk, but then it hits me. She’s a VIP, which means that technically she’s a prospective client. I’m used to making small talk with people like her. I should make light conversation with her – it’s as easy as flipping a switch with me, and I go into business-mode.
I might be thinking of Grace as a prospective client, but there’s an astuteness in the way she’s looking at me right now. Like she’s also sizing me up but in a different way.
“Enjoying the band, Connor?”
“Yes, ma’am. They’re a good band. Thanks again for the ticket.” I pause before adding, “Are you feeling better?”
My question throws her off, and I see it like a small break in her poise before it settles back over her again. “Oh. Alexis told you I wasn’t feeling well?”
I realize my mistake, that Alex might have not wanted me to tell her mother. A small pit forms in my gut at that realization. I’m not entirely comfortable with that, at being taken into confidence.
“I think she was just worried about you,” I say truthfully. Grace nods, glancing off to the side at her daughter while I tell myself to keep my damned mouth shut.
“I’m fine,” she finally says. “Swam a little too hard this morning. We take full advantage of the lap pool during the summer.”
I nod understandingly. “Don’t blame you. I spent a lot of my summers in the water.”
“Oh, did you used to lifeguard?” Her eyes graze over me as if trying to see if I fit the type. “I think Alexis always wanted to do that for a summer job, but we always came out here in the summers, so she never could.”
“No, ma’am. Navy SEAL.”
Green eyes settle on me with definite interest.
I hear Alex’s laugh from my left as she and Elle drop back into their chairs at the other table, and it hits me. I know what that look is now. It’s not one I’ve been on the receiving end of since I lived back in Albuquerque. Laura’s mom used to look at me the same way, like she was going through a running checklist to see if I was boyfriend material for her daughter.
Hell no. That’s the last thing I want.
“Is that still something you do?”
“Not anymore.” I give her a crooked smile. “I moved on.”
She leans forward, as if ready to trade secrets. “And what do you do now?”
Walk away from this one, Connor. Write it off.
I shrug. “I provide personal security for high rollers.”
“Oh!” She looks surprised, and there’s a change in her demeanor, like she’s interested for other reasons. “How did you get into that line of work?”
I guess it’s a normal thing to ask. Purely conversational. What do you do? How did you start out? Only I’ve never had anyone ask me before. The vast majority of my current clients have been referrals, Maya being the exception to that. If she were here, I know exactly how she’d answer that question.
“It was all luck.”
Grace is silent for a moment as she considers this. She’s probably waiting for me to elaborate. I don’t.
“Well,” she finally says. “Considering the city you’re in, I suppose that’s appropriate. It’s a good thing to have luck on your side.”
11
Alex
“No, you didn’t.” I stare at Mom, not sure I know how to take this.
She has to be kidding. She did not actually invite Connor to come swim laps with us. I remember seeing Mom talk to him during the concert last night, and she had danced with him for those songs. But I didn’t think she’d be so…susceptible to him? Though I have to admit that I’ve caught myself a couple of times thinking about that moment. The one when I was sure he was about to kiss me. When I was sure that I wanted it, too.
Okay, I’ve thought about that almost-kiss a lot.
Mom shrugs, completely unaffected by my reaction. She primps herself using the mirrored wall of the elevator.
Not because of him, though. This is not some cougar thing, right? Ugh. I kick myself for even thinking it.
“No need to make such a big deal about it. All I did was mention that you and I swim laps every morning, and that he was welcome to join us. It was a natural course of conversation. He’s a nice boy, Alexis.”
Complete and total mortification achieved. I suddenly feel like I’m back in junior high, when I towered over all of the boys in my class and wished I could shrink myself down into nothingness. A nice boy? If Connor is a “boy,” I’m that same girl that I was in eighth grade.
I take a breath and release it as the elevator doors open. She’s right. This is not a big deal. Chances are that he won’t show up anyway, and if he does, so what? It’s a free country, and if he shows, he shows.
Still, when Mom and I get out to the deck, I feel almost ridiculously relieved. The only other people in the lap pool are the same elderly women that were here yesterday morning. They gossip happily as they do the breaststroke, and I close my eyes and tilt my head up to the sun. I start in on my stretches, going for more of a yoga-type stretch than what I did yesterday. Reach to the sun first, then touch my toes, shift my weight and pick up with an extended side angle stretch…
“He’s a little old for you anyway,” Mom says from next to me. I guess she might have reconsidered the “boy” part of her description of Connor. “Did you know he was in the military?”
“No, I don’t know anything about him aside from him being Elle’s cousin, and that’s good enough for me.” My tone is firm as I switch sides. “I’m here to spend time with you and Dad. And Elle, you know?”
“Oh, I know.” She sounds surprised, but I can hear past that, see through the act. “That’s exactly what I was trying to say.”
“Uh huh.” A side of my mouth tilts up in a smirk. “Ready?”
“Almost,” she says. “My leg feels a bit tight today. Let me work it out a little more.”
I give her a concerned look, but she’s just stretching out her hamstring. The pain relievers did the trick last night, and she’s seemed fine so far this morning.
“Did you ever get to see Dad last night?” He was gone when we’d gotten back to the room last night and was already gone by the time I got my butt out of bed.
“Yes, for a bit.” She sighs. “He’s been working too much this summer.”
“Why don’t you tell him that then?” I gather my hair back as I watch her reaction. Sometimes she acts afraid of my dad, like she’s terrified of how he’ll take things. But he’s so cool about everything whenever I approach him, so I don’t get that.
“Oh no. I couldn’t,” she says quickly.
It’s what I predicted she’d say. I cross my arms over my chest, not wanting to let this go this time. “Is everything okay, Mom? Why are you guys having to cut the trip short and everything?”
“Everything is fine, Alexis. Your father has less to play with this summer is all.”
I think of the ten grand that Dad gave me, and I know this can’t be the whole story. Or the story at all. But Mom stares at me with a plea in her eyes, and it makes me back down, at least for now.
She takes off her coverup and folds it before setting it neatly by her towel. I kick out of my shorts, pull my shirt over my head, and toss them both onto the chair next to hers. I’m wearing my new bathing suit today, a simple black halter-style bikini, and I swing my a
rms a little to keep them loose as I walk to the edge of the pool.
A shriek sounds over from somewhere in one of the other pools, and I cringe. My ears are still ringing from the concert last night, and maybe also from Elle screaming in my ear the whole ride back to the hotel. Not that it wasn’t completely warranted. She got to go backstage after the show and see Alysa Trane for an entire thirty seconds. And Alysa signed her tank top, which means Elle is going to be in a state of complete giddiness for the rest of the summer.
I used to think she found her passion in life when she decided to go into social work. She was so excited when she first told me about her plans to go to UNLV, and that was about the same time that I decided I wanted to go into nursing. But after last night, I can see that Elle’s true passion is singing. Though it would have been cool to have gone backstage, I’m glad it was Elle.
Mom dives into the water, and I follow her lead in the lane next to her. I wait for it, smiling inside as my bubble gives me silence. And strength.
Mom is out of the water and sunning herself on one of the chaise lounges, but I’m still going. We’re supposed to meet Dad for Sunday brunch in an hour or so, which means going to the all-you-can-eat buffet. If I can work off those calories before we get there, I’ll be happy.
I sprint for fifteen laps before surfacing at the end of the pool. Mom isn’t on the chaise lounge anymore. Connor is.
His broad shoulders are slightly hunched over, his elbows braced on his knees, his hands loosely clasped in front of him. And those startling blue eyes are resting on me like they’ve been watching me for a while.
I kick up, propping myself on the edge of the pool with my arms as I catch my breath. “Hi. What did you do with my mom?”
He cocks his head at me. God, his gaze is so, so focused in on me like they were in the high roller room, like laser beams. I wonder if he’s always so intense. I let go of the pool’s edge and sink back into the water, my toes touching the bottom.
“Nothing.” He stands, not breaking eye contact with me. “She told me she was going to go back to her suite to shower. Asked me to keep you company and remind you that brunch is…” He glances at his watch. “…in fifty minutes.”
“I know when brunch is,” I say simply. “But thanks. And as for keeping me company, I’ll be swimming for about twenty more minutes and then going inside, so don’t feel obligated to babysit.”
I’m not trying to be rude, just straight with him. I don’t need any company when I’m out here. I push away from the wall, my head still out of water so I can hear him in case he responds.
I stare at him as he throws his watch on his towel, right before he pulls his shirt over his head and drops it. I try not to gawk, but he has a great body, all tanned with well-defined muscles. I’d felt some of those muscles when we danced last night. He walks forward, swimming trunks slung low on his hips, and crouches down by the side of the pool. My head is right at the level of his crotch, and I fight to drag my gaze back up to his face.
My mouth is suddenly dry. No harm in looking, right? He was just watching me swim for however long without me knowing. I can make out a pretty big scar on his left shoulder, and I wonder what it’s from.
“You don’t seem like the type who requires babysitting,” he says in a low voice. His jaw is shaded with a little bit of stubble today, like he slept in this morning and didn’t have time to shave. I stare at his lips and finally manage to swallow.
“You’re observant,” I say back.
“Yeah, I have to be,” he says, standing up again.
Oh geez. I have to crane my neck up uncomfortably in order to not stare at his swimming trunks again. Is he flirting with me? I suppose he might be, but he’s so serious, and honestly, I don’t want to figure it out, either way. I drift backward in the water in a float, the sun high enough now to blind me for a second and force me to close my eyes. I open them in time to see Connor diving into the lane next to me.
Better. I flip over and dive into the water to start in on my laps again. Connor’s a powerful swimmer, and he goes fast and strong with even strokes. There’s no way I can catch up, but this isn’t a race, either. Still, I push myself hard until I reach the end of the lane, tucking myself into a somersault and kicking against the opposite wall before hitting the second half of the lap. I can see him ahead of me, and I pull myself through the water with stronger and stronger strokes. I’m not feeling that usual piece of calm energy that I do when I’m in here. Energy, yes. But none of the calm.
It’s stupid and illogical for me to be all wound up inside because there’s some guy swimming in the lane next to me. A guy who almost kissed me last night and who happens to have a body that I could stare at all day. A guy who is also sort of enigmatic… But no, that’s stupid. He’s only enigmatic because I know nothing about him, right? Except I do know that he was with an absolutely gorgeous woman in the high roller room for part of the afternoon yesterday. And that he’d been standing over her like he was her babysitter. It’s enough to be another factor of intrigue.
Oh, hell. Speaking of other factors…what would Elle think if she knew I was ogling her cousin’s hot body?
Twenty laps later, and I close in at the end. I can see half of Connor through the water, standing and waiting for me at the end of the pool, and my lungs burn like hell as I take the rest of the lap without resurfacing for air. My hand grabs the edge of the pool first, and I pop up right after and touch my feet to the bottom.
I’m breathing hard from the last lap, and Connor looks like he’s just getting warmed up. He’s tall, maybe six foot two, and my eyes come up to his chin. I stare at the slight stubble leading up to his mouth. It doesn’t help my breathing any.
I push my hands through my hair to squeeze out some of the water, and his gaze trails over my face and down, down to the front of my swimsuit as I lower my arms. It’s a lingering look, and I know I’m not imagining the heat behind it.
“You’re a good swimmer,” he says. It’s a statement of fact, but I pick up a hint of something else in his tone. Not quite like admiration. Maybe more like approval.
“So are you.”
He smiles slightly, and it’s a shadow of that cocky grin. “It’s almost time for your brunch.”
I quirk an eyebrow at him. “What? Didn’t my mom invite you to that, too?”
“No. Even if she did, I have to go to work right now.”
Now that I’ve stopped moving after so many laps, I feel a slight chill from standing still in the water. Throwing a quick sideways glance at him, I hoist myself out of the pool. I wish I could say that I sprung out with grace, but yeah, that would be a huge stretch.
Connor’s the one to float back away from me this time, his eyes moving up to my face. I can read something like lust in his eyes, and I have a pretty good feeling his eyes were planted firmly on my ass prior to that.
“Thought you had to get to work.” I don’t ask him what he does even though I’m curious. I wrap myself up in my towel and grab my shirt and shorts as I kick my feet into my flip flops.
“I do, but I’m doing one more lap first,” he says. All traces of that previous smile are gone, and he’s suddenly extremely serious again. “You’ll be here tomorrow?”
I freeze in place with my clothes in my hands, telling myself that it’s just because I’m cold. “Yes. Better chance than not.”
“See you then. Better chance than not.” He holds the eye contact with me for a few seconds longer, and then does this really cool flip to get his body under the surface of the water. He’s off, and I force myself to breathe again as I watch him slice through the water like a machine.
I know that they like you to rinse off by the pool, but all I can think about is how serious Connor comes off. How his stare is like fire and ice at the same time. How he smiled at me. And how I wish he would kiss me.
My feet slap back over to the casino entrance in a hurry. There’s no way I can take the intensity of that man’s stare for one more second.<
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12
Connor
Ten in the morning, and I’m finally on my way to get Maya. Yesterday was a complete wash. Aside from my brief swim at the pool with Alex, I was idle most of the day. When I went to pick Maya up in the afternoon, she bagged out on her game, which she never does. Elle is evidently doing some internship for college credit this summer, and she’s working on some paper. No texts or other word from her about Cruz. I’m not used to having leisure time, in any form, and I’d gone for a long run early this morning to take the edge off.
I knock on the door, and Maya opens it a good minute later, talking on her cell phone and dressed in silk pajamas. I try to hide my surprise. I’m right on time to pick her up, and I’ve never seen her look so not ready to go before.
“Hold on a second, will you, David?” She places her hand over the phone and whispers to me, “Connor, could we reschedule for an hour from now? I need to take some calls.”
Her eyes even look puffy. This isn’t the usual Maya, but it’s not my business to say anything. It’s not a problem to reschedule, and I nod as she’s already closing the door and speaking to this David guy.
I frown as I head back down the hall. I hope Maya will be ready when I come back for her, that she doesn’t bag out on this set of games like she did yesterday. It’s not my style, but I’m worried for her. There’s a certain formula that determines how often and even how much high rollers are supposed to play to get all of the royal treatment in return. I know Maya’s connected to some powerful people in this city, but I doubt any casino would let her hang out and get all of the comps without having to work for it, no matter how influential she is.
I check my watch, even though I know it’s a few minutes after ten. An hour is hardly enough time to let me leave the Strip and come back again. I could use the time to make some calls of my own, though.
Losing Enough Page 10