MJ pulled her hand back from Doyle’s and gulped the rest of her drink, hoping Lisa hadn’t noticed anything between them. But her eagle-eyed best friend didn’t miss a trick. And Doyle’s frown made it clear he didn’t appreciate the interruption.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry to interrupt.” Lisa batted her lashes at Doyle as he half scowled.
Even as she smiled, MJ’s throat tightened and her tongue began to itch. She used her teeth to scratch at it, but the itching spread down her throat as if she’d swallowed fire ants. When she tried to catch her breath, a ragged whistle escaped. Both Lisa and Doyle turned to her. MJ’s hands went to her chest, trying to push in more air.
“Allergy,” she wheezed. She looked at Doyle, who just stared at her, watching as her face splotched over and her lips swelled. Lisa punched him in the arm.
“Did you put pineapple in the drink?” Lisa said.
Doyle nodded. “Pineapple juice.”
MJ’s throat tightened. She needed to get to her pills before she couldn’t swallow anymore, but Lisa was already moving. She grabbed MJ’s purse from the lounge chair and dumped out the contents on the cabana’s teak floor. Her wallet, tampons, and three tubes of lipstick scattered, but Lisa saw what she needed. She ripped open the pink and white box, tearing open the bubble packs.
“Water,” Lisa ordered.
Doyle finally sprung to action and retrieved a bottle of water from the bar’s refrigerator. MJ tossed the Benadryl into her mouth and drank the water, grateful her throat hadn’t closed completely. The cool rush soothed the itchy, irritated flesh as it chased the pink pills down. Now she just needed to wait—everything would be okay. She lay down on the lounge chair and tried to take slow, even breaths as she waited for the reaction to stop. She looked up to see Lisa and Doyle staring at her, looking as rattled as she felt.
“I’m okay,” MJ whispered. “Need to relax. Half hour.” She gave a thumbs-up.
“I’m so sorry,” Doyle said. He knelt by her side.
MJ waved him off. She tried to adjust her body to hide her curvy stomach and fleshy thighs. Lisa stood by her other side and squeezed her hand.
“Oh, hon. Thank God you had the pills. I’ll go get your cover-up so you can be more comfortable.” She left the cabana, and Doyle grabbed her hand and attention.
“I really am sorry. Let me know how I can make it up to you. Anything, really.”
“My fault. Should have asked.” MJ took a deep breath and smiled. Lisa returned and helped MJ into her cover-up. Now she at least didn’t feel so exposed as the two looked at her like a misshapen statue. “Go enjoy the sun.” She waved them off.
Lisa looked at her and nodded. MJ liked that Lisa took what she said at face value.
“You let me know if you need anything, okay?” she said as she left the tent again.
Doyle apparently didn’t take MJ at her word. “What can I do?” he asked. He moved closer to her and still held her hand. His brow was furrowed with concern. He brought his other hand up to brush a strand of hair out of her face. MJ resisted the urge to lean into the touch. This wouldn’t do. Doyle was dangerous. Chris and she may be having problems, but she had no intention of actually being unfaithful. She pulled her hand out of Doyle’s and stood up despite her postanaphylactic exhaustion. Her throat had eased a bit, though her lips still pulsed from the swelling.
“Really. I’m okay. This isn’t the first time. That’s why I carry the pills with me. I just feel like a dork when it happens in front of other people.” She started picking up her scattered purse contents. “I’m going to head back to my room and rest up for tonight.”
“At least let me walk you back to your room.” He reached to hold her arm.
“Not necessary.” MJ stepped out of reach and strode out of the cabana, leaving Doyle alone to wonder what just happened.
Chris was always the vigilant one. He was the one who checked every sauce or fruit cup for stray pineapple. He never would have let her drink that concoction without an ingredient list. She didn’t just miss Chris. She needed him. Losing him might kill her.
Chapter Sixteen
MJ’s nerves still buzzed as she slipped out of her swimsuit and into a comfy robe. On the way back to the room, Lisa had peeled off to pick up some food. She curled up in one of the armchairs, looking back on all the times Chris had stopped her from eating something containing pineapple. It was a little thing, almost an afterthought to him, she knew. How many other ways did she need him that she didn’t even realize? A knock disrupted her musings. She peeked through the hole to see shining highlighted hair.
“Took you long enough; I couldn’t get to my key card,” Lisa said as she swept in with an armload of food. She set it on the small dining table and started spreading out sandwiches, cookies, chips, and water. “Get over here and eat. It’ll make you feel better.”
“You’re kind of bossy, you know that?” MJ sat across from her as Lisa pushed a sandwich at her.
“No mayo, no tomato.”
“Just the way I like it. You must really love me.” MJ blew her a kiss, which Lisa returned.
“Always.”
They nibbled in silence, though Lisa kept pausing as if to speak. After the third time, MJ had to know what was going through her mind.
“Okay, spit it out.”
Lisa set down her sandwich and finished chewing.
“This Doyle guy. What’s up with that?”
MJ took a long drink of water, letting the cool liquid soothe the lingering soreness in her throat and giving her time to gather her thoughts. “Nothing is up with that.”
“It took you that long to come up with that bull pucky? I’m not new here.”
MJ sighed. There was a downside to having such an astute friend.
“Truly. Nothing is up with that. At least not on my side. I’m flirty with him, because, let’s be honest, it’s been a long time since an attractive man I’m not married to flirted with me. It’s nice.”
“Be careful. He’s not what he seems. I’m getting a vibe from him.”
“It’s poker—no one is what they seem. That’s what makes it so much fun.”
Lisa shook her head.
“No, Mr. Doyle Kane likes what he sees in you.”
MJ swatted her hand at the air. “He’s only teasing me, trying to get under my skin.”
“I think he’s trying to get under more than just your skin. Is it working?”
“No. I’m married to Chris. I want Chris.”
Lisa bit into a chip and chewed slowly.
“Then why are we here?”
“I won a trip and you agreed to come with me.”
“You know I love you and will support you in everything you do, but there’s more going on than I know, and I think it’s time you spilled.”
MJ pushed her sandwich away and failed to control the hitch in her voice as she spoke.
“I think I’m losing Chris. I got so caught up with poker, it became my escape from what was wrong with us.”
Lisa reached across the table to hold MJ’s hand.
“What is wrong with you two?”
“Twenty years of forgetting how irreplaceable he is to me. I’ve spent my entire marriage pretending I didn’t need him, because I was strong, independent MJ who didn’t need anyone.” MJ gave a halfhearted chuckle. “When I tried to reconnect, it all backfired. I got sucked into the excitement of poker, and he’s back at home with the mysterious T.”
“And you’re here. With Doyle.”
“That isn’t going to happen.”
“I know that, and you know that, but he doesn’t know that. Doyle is used to getting what Doyle wants. Now there’s you.” Lisa spread her hands wide toward MJ. “You are unattainable, a challenge. He can’t snap his fingers and expect you to jump into his arms.”
“He’d be wasting his time.” MJ wrapped her robe tighter.
“Then make that clear to him before it gets complicated. And let’s get out of this room. We didn’t come to Veg
as to look at each other.”
The crowd around them was growing, a sure sign the water show was about to start, but MJ and Lisa weren’t paying attention, much to the annoyance of the people next to them. They were focused on MJ’s phone, where Ariana’s face filled the screen.
Ariana had a floral print scarf wrapped around her head, as if she belonged next to Cary Grant, cruising down a coastal highway in a convertible. Instead she sat in her own car, slinking behind the steering wheel.
“Are you going to tell us where you are and why you’re in disguise?” MJ asked.
“At the Starbucks. I was getting out of my car and noticed Chris pull in. It seemed odd, so I thought I’d observe. It looks like he’s waiting for someone,” Ariana said.
“He knows what your car looks like,” MJ said. “And why are you whispering?”
“Good point and I don’t know.” She raised her voice to a normal volume and unwrapped her scarf. Ariana looked at them through the camera. “Where are you?”
“In front of the Bellagio,” MJ said, turning the phone so Ariana could see the lit-up Lake Bellagio in front of them.
“We’re being tourists. The fountain show is about to start.”
“I want to be there. Why am I not with you?” Ariana said.
“Because you’re handling the War of the Roses,” Lisa said.
“Ugh, they are the worst. I wish I could tell you about it. Just know that some people should not procreate. I wish I had never taken this case, and then I could be there, having fun with you.” Ariana pouted into the camera.
“What’s he doing now?” Knowing Chris was right there, MJ couldn’t concentrate on Ariana’s clients.
Ariana cleared her throat and moved her arm as if she was shoving something, or someone, out of the way.
“Is someone there with you?” Lisa asked.
Ariana blushed. “No one.”
“Now I’m really intrigued. You have to tell us something.”
She gave another shove and they heard a grumbled “I’m not no one.”
MJ laughed, temporarily distracted at Ariana’s failure to hide something.
“Yes, yes, moving on.” Ariana craned her neck. A person appeared behind her, a male person, a younger, blond male person.
“Is that Kyle, the school counselor?”
Ariana moved the phone so he was out of frame.
“Oh, shit.”
“Holy crap, Ariana.”
“Now is not the time.” She gave a stern look into the camera. “Do you want to know what Chris is doing or not?” She paused.
MJ looked over the phone at the lake. The water was still, like the calm before a storm. “So you’re in a Starbucks parking lot. Has he noticed you yet?”
“Of course not. Honestly, do you know nothing about tailing perps?”
“Chris is not a perp. What’s he doing now?”
Ariana craned her neck to see over the steering wheel.
“He’s checking his phone. Oh wait, he’s getting out and walking toward another car.”
“What kind of car?”
“Just shush. I’m watching. Oh.” Ariana’s face fell. “Oh my. I didn’t really think . . .”
“What’s happening? What didn’t you really think?” MJ stood up straighter; Lisa grabbed MJ’s hand and held it tight, preparing for the worst. Ariana took off her sunglasses and squinted as if trying to see better, her eyes moving as they followed Chris and whoever had gotten out of the other car. “Dying here!”
“Oh mamita, it’s Tammie. They hugged and went into the coffee shop. She looks like she’s lost way too much weight—like a walking skeleton. Terrible.”
MJ’s stomach plummeted. She didn’t think it was true, not really. Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like. Maybe it was actual business. But she knew it had nothing to do with work. She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat, but it wouldn’t work. Why wouldn’t it work? Lisa wrapped her arms around MJ.
“MJ, you okay? You want me to wait here and follow them when I’m done?”
MJ shook her head. All the nerves were wrapped in novocaine.
“No,” she said. Her voice sounded husky and scratchy. “Thanks.”
MJ blinked at the screen, hoping the dry Nevada air would take care of the tears threatening to fall. It didn’t.
“I gotta go.” MJ turned off her phone and wiped her cheeks as Lisa pulled her in for a hug. She hated crying, especially in front of other people. They always felt compelled to comfort you, to offer condolences. She didn’t want that. The muscles in her face hurt as they squeezed out more tears, her breath making croaky gasps. The fountains blazed to life, dancing to “My Heart Will Go On.” At the moment, MJ didn’t think hers would.
The crowd scattered as soon as the fountain went dim. MJ did her best to wipe the tears off her face.
“Here, let me.” Before MJ could protest, Lisa wiped a tissue under MJ’s eyes to tidy up her smudged makeup.
“Better?” MJ asked, wishing she could look in a mirror to check.
“Better.” Lisa nodded.
“MJ?” a deep voice said. MJ turned to see Jerry from the lesson walking toward them. She hoped the dark would mask the majority of her emotional wreckage. “I thought that was you.”
MJ made the introductions.
“So this is the delightful friend you mentioned.” He looked at Lisa.
“Whatever she said about me, it’s all true.” Lisa looked at her watch.
“You should get going. You don’t want to be late for your blue dude show,” MJ said.
“I don’t want to leave you.”
MJ squeezed her arm. “I’m good. Really. We’ll catch up later.”
“I’ll make sure she gets back okay,” Jerry said.
Lisa gave MJ a quick hug and turned in the direction of the show. MJ turned to Jerry. He had changed to a white shirt and dark dress pants for the evening. His hooked nose cast a shadow on his face, and he still smelled like Big Red gum, but now with the warmth of good scotch. Before she could say anything, he said, “You want to talk about it?”
MJ didn’t, or at least she didn’t think she did, but when she opened her mouth to reassure him, out came her entire story. Somewhere along the way, Jerry set her arm on his so they could walk back toward the Bonn Oir, the sparkling lights of the Strip glittering around them. He guided her around selfie-taking tourists and skeevy guys smacking stacks of leaflets advertising scantily clad women.
She told him how she and Chris met, how close they once were, their recent troubles, the poker, and Tammie.
He nodded and listened, and never interrupted. She found it refreshing to have to explain every detail because he didn’t know any piece of her history.
“But why do you dislike Tammie so much?”
MJ sighed. “So many reasons, but mostly because she wasn’t nice to Chris.”
He raised his eyebrows, then guided her around a pack of fanny-packers.
“We’d become friends after he turned down my pie-induced proposal. We’d study together. He was good company. He didn’t fill the silence with unnecessary conversation, and he always walked me home if it was past dark, even though he lived on the other side of campus.” MJ gave a little smile at the memory. “This one night at the bar, he stood behind a petite blonde whose hair was almost as big as her torso. I knew he liked someone else, but I didn’t know it was her. Tammie. I’d already disliked her from working with her at the bar, but this was electric loathing. She’d used so much Aqua Net, I worried the nearby cigarettes would spark into her shellacked hair, especially since my path to an exit was lined with drunk undergrads. There’s no question she was adorable by any standard: toned legs, one of those double-V sweaters without a tank top underneath, so everyone knew she wasn’t wearing a bra. She was that kind of girl, and it explained the swarm of boys surrounding her.
“While she flirted with all of them, she ignored Chris, who was keeping her tumbler full of vodka and cranberry juice. I almost lost it wh
en I saw her wiggle her empty glass over her shoulder when he hadn’t grabbed it fast enough. Who treats people like that? When he took the glass from her, she turned and gave him a brilliant, plastic smile and his face brightened. It was so hard to watch my friend fall for her tricks. Once he took the glass, she went right back to ignoring him. His shoulders slumped as he looked at the empty glass in his hand. He knew what was going on. I wanted him to set it down and walk away. Or even better, to dump the melting ice cubes over Ms. Big Hair. That can be very satisfying. Instead, he looked at me to make her a new drink.”
MJ remembered how he smiled at her as she stomped down to his end of the bar.
“Tammie was a fool for not seeing how special he was, and he was a fool for thinking she was good enough for him. Of course, I wasn’t so kind with the words back then. I may have said something like, ‘Why are you buying that cuntch drinks?’ ”
“Cuntch?” Jerry asked.
“Chris and I like to mash up words. It’s our thing.”
Jerry laughed. “I see.”
MJ continued.
“Much to my regret, I didn’t actually call her that. But she did notice I wasn’t making her drink. Or more importantly, Chris was not successfully procuring it for her. And she and I, well, oil and water. Without mincing words, I accused her of stringing along Chris. Her defense was that he had just as much of a chance of taking her home as the rest of her herd. Then I refused to serve her at her father’s own bar. Good thing there was another bartender working that night or I might have finally lost my job there.”
“What did Chris do?”
“He stopped getting her drinks.” MJ smiled. “A few months later I finally asked him out.”
Jerry raised his eyebrow.
“He was taking too long.”
They entered the front door of Bonn Oir, all gold and green. It was a relief to get off the crowded sidewalks and into the calmer lobby.
“And now?” Jerry prompted.
“I think he’s getting used by her again, and I can’t stop it this time.”
“You don’t know that. Men are funny creatures. We like to have a purpose, to know we’re needed. I haven’t known you very long, but you don’t come across as someone who needs help often.”
Luck, Love & Lemon Pie Page 14