by Ariana Rose
I played it all cool when I asked him to show me what Mari was missing. I knew what I was asking for. Sure, it was for him as a distraction, but it was for me too. It was a safe way for me to see what it might be like to be someone’s girl. His girl.
The rest of the drive from nowhere Nevada to Las Vegas was nearly silent. When he thought I’d drifted off, he took his hand back for the wheel. That was the first time I’d felt a chill all day, in spite of the ninety-degree desert heat.
I wish I hadn’t felt him take his hand back. I left my hand in the same position in case he wanted to return. He didn’t. I forced myself into a nap at that point. It would make the divide less for a while.
The next words I hear from him are. “Cierra. Open your eyes. We’re here.”
I let my eyes slowly flutter and if they’d taken a second more, I’d have missed the Welcome to Vegas sign. It’s crazy. You drive and drive for hours with next to nothing around you then, boom! This packed and bustling oasis comes at you.
All the places in the world I’ve travelled, and this is my virgin trip to Vegas. There is hotel after hotel on both sides of me. Each one looks like it is trying to best the one before it. We seem to hit every stoplight on the boulevard, which is awesome. It gives me more time to soak everything in.
Every billboard for as far as I can see has a different name on it. Shania. Christina. Bruno. Boyz II Men. All the Cirque shows. Love. Ka. I look to my right and there is a giant picture of David Copperfield on the side of a bus in the lane next to us.
Each block we ride on seems to be more spectacular than the last. There is no lack of construction either. I don’t know how they can pack anymore into this city, but they’re sure trying. Holy shit! There is a crane seemingly every half mile or so.
Even in the heat, the sidewalks are packed. I could watch the people for hours if I wasn’t so distracted by everything else. There are so many pedestrian bridges. It’s almost like a mouse maze to see where the people will pop from next.
The other things I notice are all the trees, super sculpted bushes, and exotic flowers. These outdoor gardens are on crack! Every size, shape, and color you can think of are represented. And the water! Oh my God! For a desert, there sure is a lot of water. Fountains small, medium, and large. Then there are the man-made mini lakes. Even over the bustle of the crowds, I can hear the rush, trickle, and boom of the water.
I remember being told once that even with all the new, there is still a sense of that old-school feel here. I agree. If you close your eyes, it’s like you can see all the old rat packers wandering the streets in their fedoras, the cars with fins on the backs, and the women in their poofy dresses.
The other thing I can sense is Spencer watching me. Every time we’re at a light, I can feel his eyes staring to see my reaction. Out of the corner of my eye, I even get a hint of a smile.
“Well? What do you think?”
“I could have never imagined what it would look like. I’ve seen Vegas only in movies like The Hangover, Vegas Vacation, Showgirls, and Rain Man. None of them could have prepared me for what it really is.”
“Well, hangover was last night for you, so I think we can cross that off the list. I don’t plan on another Griswold adventure, but it is you so I should leave our options open. Showgirls…hard no! Lastly, I don’t plan on having you count cards for me, so I guess we will be blazing our own path.”
His smile turned into a chuckle somewhere in the middle of his speech, which made me laugh a bit too. When I stop and think, I need to try and take this moment and make it all I can if it is the only one I have, the last one I have with him. “Spencer? Can we go to a show?”
“I thought I was in control.”
“You were. You are. It’s just….”
“The rule of this day is going to be never deny a wish, if I can help it. Pick a hotel. Where would you like to stay?”
“Pick a hotel? How am I supposed to choose? Are you kidding?”
“No. I’m not. As much as I like to control all things in workouts and behind the wheel, I know if a woman is not happy where she is staying, it won’t end well.”
“That didn’t apply last night, did it?”
“Last night was last night. We were limited on resources. Today is a different day.”
“What will it be? Pirate ship? The Eiffel Tower? Room with a roller coaster out the window? Ferris wheel out the window? Pick your poison.”
Out the window to my right, the answer comes into view. I can hear blaring instrumental music and water shooting and trailing high into the sky. It’s pulsing to the beat of the music. The water against the sun creates mini rainbows just above the surface. “There. Water. Dancing water. I want to stay there.”
“I should have known. There’s always water between us. What the lady wants, the lady gets.”
He activates his turn signal to enter the drive, right before the big sign to the hotel. “Are you serious?”
“For the most part, I always am, Cierra. You know that.”
His words were cryptic but all too true.
We drive into the valet lane of the half-circle drive and as I get out, I look up. I sort of feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. I don’t know how many times I say either, “Wow” or “Holy shit” before I even go inside.
Once we are inside, I can’t find any words. I want to take my time getting to the front desk. There are so many things to see and take in. I feel so small in a grand palace. Every hallway has glass dome ceilings that let you peer into the clouds. Even the areas that don’t have ornate enclosed domes are either simple white and cream stone outlined in gold or they are painted works of art.
Some of the hallways are sprinkled with intimate table settings along the windows where you could enjoy the outside gardens or even one of the pools. The one pool we walk past is massive. It has the biggest fountain I think I’ve ever seen in the middle, misting down on all the people basking in the sun.
We wind around to another set of hallways and I freeze.
“What?” Spencer asks.
“What do you mean what? Look!” I squeal as the wheels on my bag nearly can’t keep up as I race over to gawk in the Versace window. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”
I feel like Ralphie in A Christmas Story, standing at the window with his face against the glass drooling over the Red Rider BB Gun. Only it isn’t a gun, it’s a party dress. It’s criminally short on the mannequin, which means it probably would fit me okay. It is the most amazing shade of deep purple and sparkles like every skating dress I’d ever had.
“It’s…short,” he offers.
“Is that all you really have to say?”
He chuckles a bit. “It’s pretty, Cierra.”
“Watch my bag. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, what? Where are you going?”
“I’m going to blow a large part of my monthly budget. You are going to stand by and watch it happen. Place this in the keeping the woman happy box and shut it.”
Spencer holds up his hands. “Don’t blame me when you’re eating peanut butter sandwiches every meal for a week or two.”
I giggle as I skip into the doorway. “I won’t”
The clerk in the store is so funny. At first, he looks at me up and down like I am playing a prank on him when I say I want to try on the dress. It is a clear case of I am in a tank, jean shorts with a couple of well-placed holes in them, and sneakers; how could I possibly afford it? That is until he sees my credit card and put a size two and four in the dressing room. It’s amazing how money can take care of quite a few things.
The dressing room is nearly as big as the whole motel room from last night. The lighting in here is so good I nearly don’t have a bad side in it. I strip down to my thong and remove my brace. I feel every sequin slide over my skin.
Once the straps settled on my shoulders, I look at my reflection dead in the face. I look different. I feel different. Before I got deep into my shots yesterd
ay, I started to feel like I do right now. I feel pretty. Sexy even. Even for how short this dress is, I can’t see the scar outright on my knee. I know, but no one else will. They’ll only see me and not my injury.
A subtle knock at the door brings me out of my trance. I answer it with a meek, “Yes.” The clerk is back at my dressing room. He wants to see how the dress fit, especially since I am the first one who’d ever tried it on. I pop my head out first then he coaxes me to open the door wide. His gasp and the clasping together of his hands under his chin tell me I’ve hit the mark.
He’s freaking out. With one held up finger, he asks me not to move, so I don’t. In two minutes, he’s found dangerous for me high heels and gold dangling earrings that nearly dust the tops of my shoulders. He says I am going to bring back a new age of disco funk in this outfit. I’m not sure what that means, but being fussed over like this sure makes it sound like a good thing.
After he packages up the shoes and earrings, he slides my new glitter ball inside a garment bag. He makes me promise pictures before I leave and gives me his business card to ensure it will happen. The whole shopping expedition takes about twenty-five minutes.
I return to Spencer outside in the hallway. He hasn’t moved. His ball cap is sitting much lower on his head as he leans back on the glass exterior of the store, surfing through his phone. When my sneakers enter in his view and my presence beside him is felt, he offers a classic joke. “I was beginning to think you fell in.”
“Ha ha. You said you wanted me happy. This made me happy. You only had to wait for less than a half an hour. Be grateful my budget wasn’t unlimited, or you’d still be waiting, likely until you had a beard.”
“No thank you, too scratchy. Are you ready to see the rest of the castle, Princess?”
“Yes, I am! Will you be so kind as to roll my bag so I can carry my dress for the ball?”
“Oh, we’re going to a ball now?”
“Well, I did ask to see a show. We can see if there are tickets for the one playing in the hotel, and we have to eat.”
“Yes, we do. I’d like a shower first, if you don’t mind.”
“You know I don’t,” I smirk.
~~~
While Spencer gets our room settled, I stand back and try to memorize the whole massive lobby of the hotel. The lobby is nearly the size of an ice rink or two. It’s a sea of people from everywhere. I am surprised at the number of families with children.
In the middle of the of the lobby is a huge statue of a horse with a rider on top, who looks like a court jester or at the very least an evil clown. Either way it’s both pretty and creepy. Right above it, the ceiling is covered in a stunning garden of blown glass flowers.
I remember seeing art pieces just like it once. I was in Seattle for a competition. In our downtime, we did a little sightseeing. I remember this museum at the base of the Space Needle that had a whole building full of large and small-scale exhibits that looked exactly like this.
I lay down on the floor in a portion of that exhibit. You could look up through the yellow, orange, and white flowers and your view would be capped with the Space Needle through it. I was thinking back to that image and the photos I have of it when I feel a touch on my shoulder.
“I hope you’re not afraid of heights,” Spencer says.
“Why?”
“We’re on the seventeenth floor, overlooking the fountain.”
“You’re joking.”
“Um, no. I’m not.” He lays a room key in my hand with the ‘O’ Cirque du Soleil symbol on it. “We also have tickets as requested. They are toward the back of the auditorium, but we’re in.”
I squeal a little and dive in with my right arm around his neck. “Thank you,” I breathe into the crook of his neck.
“Whoa,” he laughs. “You’re welcome.”
As I let go and my feet take my weight again, I notice a piano playing in the background. In the middle of the lobby rotunda sits a younger man playing a chilling version of Chopin’s “Opus Nine.” Not many people would know it outright, but I used it for my short program when I was fifteen. It’s one of those songs that takes up residence in your heart and never leaves.
“We could stay here for days and see something new every single time, couldn’t we?”
“It’s true. This is my third time. I’d cruise in with the boys in the off-season and this was a place of choice. Before dinner, I can take you on a walk of the Conservatory Garden.”
“There’s a whole garden in here?”
“Yes, a beautiful one where the theme is changed periodically. The concierge said it was set in Japanese garden style currently. Do you like flowers?”
“I don’t stop and smell the roses often, as you can probably tell, but I do love them, yes.”
“It seems we have a lot of ground to cover on this birthday-nonbirthday, date-nondate.”
“Game on, Broten.”
Chapter 22
Cierra
As we walk back through portions of the gaming floor to get to the elevators to our room, I stake out a few slot machines and even a table I’d like to try. I know I’m busted when I hear a little snort from next to me.
“Did I just hear a snort?”
“Cierra, you have your head on a swivel and I can see that look in your eye. I’ve seen a thousand times. You’re making a plan to execute. Normally, I wouldn’t have an issue with it. You’re taking plotted steps. This plan, I think you’re hatching, could be dangerous.”
“Afraid of me all of a sudden?” I ask with a tilt to my head, as we wait for the elevator door.
“Nope, need to make sure I have a game plan of my own.”
Shit!
Was that a flirt? Was that a defensive strategy? It sucks that I can’t seem to tell the difference. I used to think it was my lack of clear knowledge in the romance department. Since yesterday, it’s definitely a Spencer issue.
He leads the way off the elevator and down the hall to the right. It’s not long before we stop at Room 17028. He steps aside and says, “After you, Princess,” with a wink.
I make the lock light up with my keycard and open the door after it chirps at me. Spencer pushes the door wide and holds it with his left hand for me to enter. The curtains are open, and the room is bright with a glow from the outside.
Even the first step is amazing. The floor in the entry is a cream and black diamond pattern of marble that pushes into the deepest indigo diamond pattern on the carpet. It spans all the way to the window. The deep blue reminds me of the rich blue water at the base of the mountains near Sun Valley.
I lay my garment bag on the bed and set my other shopping bag on the blue plush bench at the foot of the bed. The window is calling me. Spencer said it was a fountain view. I want to see how fountainy it truly is. I step to separate the sheers to peek and Spencer beats me to the punch. They have buttons. Fucking operating buttons on the wall.
He knew that was where I’d go first and wanted to give it to me. The rainbows I saw shining just above the surface of the water from the street are as beautiful from seventeen floors up. What is more breathtaking is the fountains and how high they look to be springing from up here.
Through the rise and fall of each spray is the Eiffel Tower from Paris Las Vegas. The blue sky to the left and the puffy clouds coming in from behind the tower make it all so perfect. The only thing that would make it better is if I could hear the music the water is dancing to.
“I think somebody likes the room.”
I give the statement a little time to breathe in the space before I respond. “I do. I really do.”
“I’m going to hit the shower first, if that’s all right? You can chill with the view.”
All I can manage is something a little better than a grunt but less than actual words. When I hear the bathroom door latch and the water run, that’s when I come back to what’s going on in the room. I step back from the window and turn to take in the rest of our surroundings.
There is
a huge television with all sorts of hookups underneath. I wonder if we can play Spencer’s music into the room. There is a glass-covered armoire to the right and under the television is a hidden mini bar. I slide my shoes off and plop them by the chair and turn for my bed.
That’s when I notice, yet again, it’s not my bed, it’s our bed. I was so focused on the window and what was beyond it; the bed situation didn’t even register. He’s stayed here before. He knows this hotel. He could have gotten a room with two beds. Last night we didn’t have a choice. Tonight, we did. He chose to have one bed.
I dive onto the bed and wrap my arms around the blue toss pillows, which are carefully placed at the center. What does this mean? What does any of this mean? This bed is so unbelievably soft. It feels like I’m resting on a cloud. The lullaby of the water from his shower, the ramping of the anxiety I have, and this mattress encasing my body is calling for a twenty-minute retreat. Without much fanfare but a lot of thinking, I doze off.
~~~
When I wake, it feels like I’ve just closed my eyes. When I look and listen, I can tell it’s been much longer. The end of the comforter has been pulled over my body. The water from the shower has stopped and where the comforter has been pulled back, there is a note from Spencer.
Cierra,
I thought you might like a little time to get ready for tonight on your own. I’ll be waiting for your text on the casino floor. I’ll pick you up proper for dinner at the door. You said game on.
S.
Well shit. I’m used to him not pulling punches, but fuck me.
He’s right. I’m glad I can get ready alone. That dress deserves proper hair and makeup, and I have to test out those heels in case I can’t do them or if I still can, at least gain the practice so I don’t make an ass of myself.
I would kill for this bathroom in my apartment. The tub is so deep I think Spencer could soak in it and every single body part would be hidden. I soak in it for about thirty minutes while I shave, let the bubbles soothe my knee, and come up with a knockout makeup design that will hopefully leave him breathless.