Lethal Love: Deceit can be Deadly

by Perri Forrest

  The team of designers that collaborated on this spectacular effort meant to create the ultimate mood. They had definitely succeeded.

  When Ty Dolla $ign, and Jeremih’s, “The Light”, started pouring from the speakers, I did a subtle grinding of my hips. As soon as I heard, ♪Let’s have sex, but not without the foreplay… not without the first date…♪ my body moving was completely involuntary, and beyond my control. The beat had me hooked. It was a song that I always turned up whenever it played on Sirius XM. I can’t lie; most of the time, I ended up hitting the rewind button so it could cycle again. That song needed to be at least five minutes longer!

  My neck rolled, my fingers snapped, and my lids lowered as I consumed the bass. I couldn’t fully let loose the way I wanted to without looking crazy. So, I kept it cute. However, when I eyed the hostess making her rounds, I knew I was on my way to getting somewhere near tipsy. Once that happened, I couldn’t be sure how long I’d be able to stay in my seat. I wanted to dance—even if it had to be by myself.

  “I pegged you for a Ciroc kind of woman. Am I correct?”

  The man’s voice infiltrated my space and sounded like it was right up on me, which I didn’t like. And it was the warm air from his mouth hitting my ear, that caused me to snap around in the middle of my song.

  When I met with the full view of him, I almost had to excuse the forceful intrusion. He was baked to a golden brown with ember eyes to match. Six-foot-something, or maybe right at five-eleven. Firm, broad shoulders that spoke power, and that were all too familiar with intense workouts. His full lips… nice. A proportioned nose, and strong jawline, semi-covered with a sandy goatee.

  He must’ve read the fiery look of war in my eyes, because he yanked back with a surprised look of his own.

  “What are you doing?” I shot at him, my guard of armor up and at attention.

  “Whoa. I’m sorry, beautiful.” His hands raised in an apologetic stance. “Thought maybe you might want a… drink?”

  I scanned his attire: aqua-blue short-sleeved shirt with an expensive suede flat of the same color. The top few buttons on his shirt had been left undone, revealing a firm chest, adorned with a single gold chain. His slacks were white and tailored. The camel fedora looked too good on him, matching both his complexion and his eyes. The man knew how to dress. And it didn’t seem like it was only for a night out. Like his closet was full of well-thought-out ensembles.

  Only when I stopped seeing him as an intruder, did I smell the masculine aroma he brought with him. If I was right, it was an Armani brand. Whatever it was, it smelled good—spicy and sophisticated.

  I decided to soften, since he could have very well walked off by now, yet remained.

  “I’m sorry. I was actually just thinking of what I might want to drink. You said something about Ciroc?”

  “So, you did hear me?” he said, finally smiling and showing off near-perfect teeth. I only say near-perfect, because well, nothing ever is.

  I tilted my head and playfully tapped at my ear lobe. “Delayed reaction.”

  “You’re forgiven.”

  “Cool.” I smiled. “You think you want to come around and have a seat, so I can save my neck from post-trauma? You know, the strain of it all…” I joked.

  He separated from his greeting spot, and walked down the length of the cabana section. It took close to a minute for him to make the journey to reach me. I watched him get nearer and nearer, liking the fact that he had an attractive physique. If I was going to sit and converse with a complete stranger, I was happy that he was at least nice to look at.

  “Hello… officially,” he said, taking a seat next to me, right as the hostess appeared.

  “I’m Nova,” I said seconds in. “And you are?”

  I surprised myself sounding like a woman who had been on the dating scene for a minute, when in fact, I’d been tied down to a man for the past three years. But it was coming natural to me which was good. Because the one thing I planned to do was enjoy myself.

  He stuck his hand out in my direction. “Chazz.”

  “Nice to meet you, Chazz,” I told him. “I was going to ask you what Chazz was short for, but then people have asked me the same thing about my name.”

  “Two unique names. Makes sense that we’d meet up. I spotted you when you first walked in. I waited for a few minutes to see if a man would be joining you. Didn’t want to infringe on anybody’s else’s—”

  “Please don’t say, ‘territory’… I would definitely—”

  “Was going to say, girl. Is that still bad?”

  I shook my head slowly. “Not bad at all. And at least you were respectful.”

  “Oh yeah. Always. I’d want the same. So, where are you from?”

  Our moment was temporarily interrupted when the hostess made her way to us. After deciding to both order Ciroc-based drinks—mine a Coquito and his, an Amnesia—we were back to our conversation.

  For some reason, I decided to lie about where I was from. “I’m from the Bay Area.”

  “Oh, okay. So, how long are you here for?”

  “Just the weekend. Where are you from?”

  “California, New York… sometimes Vegas. Just here for a few weeks on a project,” he shared.

  I surveyed the area, then turned back to him. “Oh okay. So, you just out here by your lonesome?”

  “That, I am. Are you? Or is he running late? I know for damn sure he didn’t stand you up.”

  I released a cute little kee-kee at his comment. “It’s just me. Taking a break from home while getting a mini-remodel.” He crossed his leg, then nodded slowly, with a wide smile. “What?” I asked him, curiously.

  “This mini-remodel… it’s code for you just kicked some poor idiot to the curb, huh?” I almost spit my drink out when the laughter broke from my mouth. I couldn’t believe that he had just hit the nail on the head. “I’m right, aren’t I?” he asked, after our laughter had dwindled.

  “How the hell did you know that?! I cannot with you. You’d be that guy that knew all the secrets.”

  “Yeah, my parents said the same thing. Called me a sleuth of sorts. Investigative reporting.”

  “I’ll bet!”

  “They had a problem with it, up until they needed me to snoop on my sisters and their dates.”

  “What?!” I laughed. “Not a snitch!”

  “Hey, don’t judge. The job paid well.”

  Chazz and I had a good time laughing and poking fun at some of the women there, trying way too hard to one-up each other for some guy’s attention. The drinks were good, and the conversation flowed superbly. He was just what I needed, coming down off of the trauma I had endured. Dealing with two ingrates who took me to levels I never wanted to visit again. Yeah, I needed the mental wind-down. I deserved it.

  During the course of our conversation, I surprised myself by sharing that my best friend and my husband had been having an affair which led to a crime of passion—with one of them dead and the other in jail. Of course, I didn’t reveal all of the details, feeding him just enough for it to feel therapeutic for me.

  Chazz shared his own relationship nightmare. He hadn’t been in a monogamous relationship in eight years, due to the very same issues of infidelity. He told me that him and his then-wife, moved to Vegas from Chicago, for what was supposed to be a new start, only for her to end up sleeping with some hockey player. She had even turned up pregnant with a child that he didn’t find out wasn’t his, until a year had passed. The revelation about the affair and the baby came at the same time.

  In true karma fashion, the guy wasn’t even a professional hockey player; he had only told her that. In truth, he was just a friend of a friend… who played for the Vegas Golden Knights.

  “So, she got played,” Chazz reflected. “And then didn’t want the baby that she thought would be a cash register.”

  “My heart just broke. That poor baby.”

  A smile spread across Chazz’s face. “The baby’s fine. She’s with me.”r />
  “Wait. Oh wow. Really?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Damn, that’s commendable, Chazz,” I told him in admiration. “Just wow. Where’s the—”

  “Back to Chicago,” he interjected. “On a search for the next big thing.”

  “Has she ever reached out for her baby?”

  “No. And my daughter’s better for it.”

  All I could do was shake my head when Chazz was telling me about that piece of trash. A lesser man would have taken her life, or at least left her for dead somewhere. And she would have deserved it all.

  “She’s disgusting,” I had expressed to Chazz. “Any woman who walks away from her child, because she felt that the benefits of having the baby, didn’t pan out the way she wanted… is trash. I’m so sorry you went through that.”

  “I’m not.”

  When he said that, I was stunned. Because how could he not be? But when he told me, “The relationship I have with my daughter, is like nothing I could’ve imagined. I’m that kid’s world. So, I had to encounter that situation with that woman, in order to be left with the blessing that she never was.”

  “That almost brought tears to my eyes, Chazz. You give me hope that there are good men left in the world.”

  “And you give me the same kind of hope. I knew that there was something classy about you when I saw you. The way you carried yourself. The way you didn’t mind your own company. The way you were able to sit and sway to the beat of the music without a care as to who was watching. And then I hear what you dealt with, and how you decided to rebrand yourself by removing all traces of that toxicity from your life. It’s my hope that when you do get back to the Bay Area, that you’re able to live in your home in peace.”

  “I’m sure I will…”

  By the end of it all, he and I had exchanged numbers, but nothing more. Oh, we did share a hug at around two in the morning, when we parted ways.

  6 | Nova

  The next morning when the sun peeked through a thin slit in the thick drapes, I lay on crisp white sheets, greeting the day in a full-body stretch—sound effects and all. That thin slit allowing the miniscule piece of brightness was error on my part. I should’ve pulled just a little tighter before turning in; because on any occasion, the minute I detect sunlight, further resting is a wrap. My lids don’t even know how to lower at that point.

  But I didn’t need more sleep anyway, I felt rested enough.

  Thanks to the good time that I had with one Mr. Chazz Parker, owner of a private security conglomerate located in the Silicon Valley, I had not only slept peacefully, but a whole hour later than my usual rise time of 6:00 AM. Even with less than four hours of sleep, I felt invigorated.

  Chazz was an entire mood—a good one—and something that I needed in my life for those few hours. I had already decided that I would stay in touch with him, because I saw him as a genuine human being. Good-looking, down to earth, and successful. Why I didn’t bed him, was beyond me. I knew that I could have, but I wonder if it was because I felt he was too good to be used-up and tossed aside.

  Yeah, that could be it…

  So now that I was all rested up, I wanted to rise, get washed up. Maybe after that, lounge for a few hours watching television, or reading one of the two paranormal romance novels I’d brought with me. I even thought about taking an Uber to the Shark Reef Aquarium over at Mandalay Bay.

  Maybe…

  After an extra slow count to twenty, I threw my right arm over to the side of me, then successfully landed my hand right on top of the remote control. “Yes, baby! That girl, got aim!” I exclaimed in an extra-giddy tone, before aiming at the television and powering it on. “This has got to be the life,” I uttered, settling into the fact that getting up—or doing anything—was completely optional. Only needed to happen if I wanted it to.

  After surfing the premium channels, it was HBO that ultimately won the competition. War for the Planet of the Apes was set to air in a few minutes. It was the third and final installment, and the one I hadn’t seen—on purpose. When I read spoilers and found out that Caesar was killed, I didn’t know if I could handle that. And the more I thought about it, I didn’t know if I wanted to try handling it now.

  In the meantime, while I decided, I threw off the sheets to take me a quick tinkle.

  After emptying my bladder, I stood at the oval sink with my hands under a stream of warm water. It felt so good on my skin that I found myself drifting off into a daydream state, while staring back at myself in the mirror. It was my eyes that I focused on first. The surprise was that I could look at myself with no sense of remorse, after having taken the lives of two people that I thought I loved—and who I thought loved me. Despite having blood on my hands, I felt oddly normal. I felt oddly at peace.

  They brought it on themselves.

  I turned my hands so that my palms faced up, watched the water fall away, and then turned them over and did the same to the other side. Only when the water began to cool, did I realize just how long I’d been doing water play. Seconds later, I pulled my hands back and the soft, luxurious flow cut immediately.

  After drying on the white terry cloth hanging from the silver rack, I leaned in close to the mirror for a close up. “Even semi-broken, you’re still a pretty chick…” I told myself before making my way back to the bed that would be mine for another two days.

  *~*~*

  Night had fallen by the time I woke up again. What was supposed to be me watching a movie and possibly ordering something decadent from room service, turned into shut eyelids, cushiony pillows, and possible snores.

  Needless to say, after having gone so long without food or liquid, my stomach was doing a small rumble and my mouth was dry as hot desert air. I tossed the sheets aside for the second time that day, and paused a few moments before rising.

  A light stretch was the first thing I did when I was on my feet. Twinkling my toes against the floor beneath me was the second. Reaching for the hotel’s room service menu was the third.

  “Hmm…” I pondered, as I perused the many items to choose from. Savory, sweet, everything was there. The only thing missing, was the adult beverages that I would more than likely seek out later, from one of the Wynn’s many bars.

  Almost twenty minutes later, and after careful consideration, I identified my meal of choice: Chilean sea bass with rice pilaf, spinach salad, and blended raspberry lemonade.

  No sooner than I had placed my order, I prepared to get into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. But then, there was a knock at the door of my suite. My brow creased in confusion. I knew that my food couldn’t have possibly arrived already. That would’ve been too quick, and that food would have undoubtably, been turned away. Period.

  They have to be in the wrong place.

  I made my way from the bedroom, and past the grand open-space that served as the living room. I rose up on my tiptoes for a quick glance. A single peep through the hole revealed what I knew. This person—a man who I had never seen in my life—had the wrong door.

  I had no weapon on me, and I was a woman alone. The strange person would not be getting face-to-face courtesy. Lowering back onto the base of my feet, I called out, “Umm… I think you might have the wrong room.” When he didn’t respond, I yelled out, “Hello?” After a few more seconds passed, I once again erected myself higher to see through the peephole. But he was gone.

  Idiot. Probably some fucking drunk who lost his way.

  I was set to walk away, and return to minding my business; but for some reason, found myself opening the door instead. Trust issues ran deep, it seemed. Scanning the hallway in both directions, all I saw was a couple walking hand in hand, who appeared to be headed toward the elevators. Outside of that, there was nothing. However, it was when I looked down and saw the decorative floral arrangement, that I realized what the mute visitor’s purpose was. I don’t know how I managed to miss it, because with the exception of the dark-green plant leaves, it was bright as hell. It was a different kin
d of visual. I’d never seen plants and flowers in the same packaging. I won’t lie, it struck me as odd.

  What also struck me as odd was the fact that his dumb ass just didn’t announce why he was there. What was so hard about saying that he had a delivery?

  For a split second, I thought about leaving them for housekeeping to pick up whenever they did their rounds. I didn’t think for one minute that they were left for the right person. Leaving them out in the hallway just didn’t seem right, though. Aside from it looking crazy, whoever they were really intended for, deserved to know. So, I made the decision to be nice and have someone from customer service come for them to make sure they got to their rightful owner.

  I bent down to pick out the pink card attached and flipped it front to back. Blank. Really? You’re just gonna make me work for something that I volunteered to do! Why, Nova? You tried… let it go.

  Before I could obey my inner voice and walk away, the Good Samaritan in me extracted the small 3x5 piece of paper. It read:

  “By discovering nature, you discover yourself.” ~Maxime Lagacé~

  Enjoy, Nova.

  Signed,

  Concierge.

  “Umm… okay, I guess…”

  I had no idea what the hell that quote meant, or why there was even a quote at all. But whatever. A gift is a gift. And it was from Wynn’s concierge, so that was a nice gesture. Dramatic, but nice.