Ryan had gone up one side of me and down the other. “Giuliana is going to eat you alive.”
“It’s a convenience thing for her. She’s not actually into me.” His look suggested that may not be the case. “Isn’t she with Paulo Estevez?”
“The artist? I don’t think that was serious.”
“She doesn’t do serious things.”
“She’s going to freak out when you tell her.”
“She won’t. She’s going to roll her eyes, call me an asshole, and move on to the next thing.”
“I hope you’re right.”
My eyes tracked a delicious twenty-something in a barely-there bikini, diamonds glittering at her throat. I imagined asking her back to my suite and seeing what kinds of terrible things I could make her do.
“Dude, you’re married,” Ryan snapped. I made an involuntary face at the word. “You gotta track her down and get this shit annulled, bro. You don’t even know her. Giuliana is a way safer bet.”
I didn’t argue, but I did think Mackenzie and I had gotten pretty well acquainted the night before. Not just in the biblical sense. I had depressingly little memory of that part of the night, damn tequila. We’d talked a lot, and we’d laughed. Not at all what I remembered of the terrified wildcat, fighting to get away from me this afternoon. The woman from last night had been warm and smart. Funny and interesting.
“We’re gonna sleep on it. Dinner tomorrow.” My phone buzzed.
Ryan, who was kind of like a nagging Jewish mother in the body of a very wealthy thirty-year old, gave me a look. “Shut that thing off. We’re here to relax.”
“Yes, Mom.” I checked the phone.
Hey. Still don’t feel much like dinner, drinks later maybe? Kenz
Whoa. I hadn’t seen that coming. I’d expected the text to be from Kevin, my personal assistant, who was in charge of the office this weekend in New York. He’d been pestering me with questions about little details, and I was about ready to block his number. Whatever else he had could undoubtedly wait until Monday when I got back.
But this…
“It’s her.”
“Her, your wife?”
“Dude, stop saying that word.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you got one.”
I flipped him the bird and considered my response to Mackenzie.
“She’s gonna flip her shit when she finds out who you really are. She can’t handle this lifestyle, bro. She’s going to take you for everything you have and bleed you dry unless you put a damper on this right now.”
I hadn’t put a prenup in the papers. I hadn’t told my lawyer yet, but he was going to murder me.
“And Serena? She’s going to eat this woman alive.”
“I know, I know. I just… liked her.”
“Past tense?” Ryan’s a sharp one.
“Like her. I told you, she freaked a little this morning.”
I pulled up the photo on my phone, the two of us leaning drunkenly against one another, and she looked amazing. Her breasts were about to pop out of the silly mermaid dress, which hugged her hips and thighs. I hated myself for not being able to remember what she looked like out of the mermaid dress. Standing next to her in an ill-fitting rental tuxedo (I hadn’t brought any of my custom tailored ones to Vegas, having no idea I was going to need one), I looked like any other tourist schlub. My hair was tousled, and sunglasses were perched on my head. My crooked smile actually looked better than 99% of the publicity shots I’d been a part of. I didn’t like the happiness I revealed in the photo.
Mackenzie looked happy, too, though, and I knew for a fact she wasn’t. That had not been a happy woman leaving my room this afternoon. Ryan was right. Annul it as soon as possible, then see about Giuliana.
I typed into the phone, Sounds good to me. Anywhere in mind?
Margaritaville?
Seriously? The Jimmy Buffet place? I didn’t know if I could handle that. But no matter what I liked to think, it wasn’t all about me.
Never been. Sounds like fun, I lied. What time do you want me to meet you there?
We decided on eight, and she said she’d catch me later.
“Dude, this is so weird.”
“You think it’s weird…”
“You’re going on this super awkward date with a new girlfriend, but everything is super old-fashioned, and oh yeah, she’s already your wife.”
He had summed the situation up perfectly, actually. I suspected this meant I couldn’t see other people. Unless, maybe, Mackenzie was cool with that. You never know until you ask, right?
Ryan came very close to an honest-to-god spit take when I told him where we were going. “What the hell are you going to wear? You really want to go there?”
“Apparently there’s a two-story volcano, and a hot chick slides into a blender full of margaritas.”
“Why am I not surprised? Sounds classy. Send pics if the chick is hot.”
“Will do.”
# # #
It surprised me, but I was actually nervous about seeing Mackenzie as eight o’clock drew near. I settled on a pair of khaki cargo shorts, a mauve t-shirt, and a plaid button down. It was as dressed down as I’d been in a very long time. Sneakers completed the look. I’m not a big fan of dudes in flip flops. No one needed to see my man-toes.
I got to the bar early and took a seat on the outside deck overlooking the strip. I know it’s hokey and cheesy, but I do love this city. I once sat outside the Bellagio and watched a couple from New Jersey loudly break up, screaming at each other with thick accents. I loved the drinks and the all-the-time-party atmosphere. I loved people-watching most of all. While I waited for Mackenzie, I watched.
A bachelorette party sat at the table closest to mine, and all the girls were verbally swarming over some guy named Frank. From what I could tell, he was the maid of honor’s fiancé, and she was pretty sure he was cheating. They talked loudly about what a jerk he was, except the bride (identified by a sash and a tiara) who hung back, frowning. I wondered how they’d like it if I leaned in and reminded them they were at a bachelorette party and should pay attention to the bride. They probably wouldn’t like it very much, so I kept my mouth shut and listened as I watched the never ending stream of people on the strip.
I’d angled my seat so I could see the Imperial Palace. I hoped to get a glimpse of Mrs. Creed before she arrived. I got a margarita and a water. After last night, I was much more interested in the second beverage than the first.
I must have missed her coming over from the Palace because she appeared suddenly at my side, a breathtaking vision in a casual yellow dress. Wow. I’d remembered her as hot, and the picture in the mermaid dress was very attractive, but this was on a whole other level. The mermaid look wasn’t her, but this, I could tell, was. The neckline was high with a little frill, and the dress was sleeveless with a cinch around her tiny waist. She even had pockets. And it was short. Her legs were about a mile long, and she’d paired the dress with strappy sandals that came almost up to her knees.
I stood up, hitting the table with my hip and sloshing my drink. “Hey.” I smiled at her. The setting sun bounced off her wavy brown hair. I wanted to plunge my fingers into it.