I picked them up and handed them to her, heedless of the slight pain from her head knocking into mine. Her scent wafted over me, leaving me dumbstruck.
What was it about this girl?
“Thanks, Camden. I mean, Mr. Cox.” She tucked her things into her handbag and straightened her shoulders.
“Just Cox.”
“Right. Cox.” With a little nod, she turned and left with Calloway.
I watched her leave, once again mesmerized by the hypnotic sway of her hips and the bounce of her curls. Why was she so entrancing? A simple physical attraction to her didn’t explain it.
Or did it?
I’d been on a dating hiatus for several months. Women always wound up being more trouble than they were worth. But maybe it was time to have a woman in my bed again.
Specifically, that woman. Sophie Abbott.
Wait.
Why did I know that name?
I sat down, my eyes still lingering on the door she’d gone through. Did I know her from somewhere? She certainly wasn’t someone I’d known recently. I’d remember.
She’d recognized me at the hotel after I’d helped her down from the balcony. I hadn’t thought much about that—I was recognized in public occasionally—but was there another reason she knew who I was?
I searched my memory, thinking back further, to girls I’d known in college. Then high school. She couldn’t have been one of the girls I’d dated casually in my teens or twenties.
And then it hit me.
Curly blond pigtails and round cheeks. A girl named Sophie Abbott had lived on my street. We must have been eleven or twelve. Holy shit, was that her?
It had to be, and it explained everything. The first girl who’d ever given me a boner was Sophie Abbott.
And now look at her.
Who knew round-cheeked little girls could grow up to be… all that.
I indulged in a self-satisfied smile. The deal with Shepherd Calloway was as good as done. And Sophie Abbott didn’t know it yet, but she was going to make my earliest fantasy come true.
That fantasy, only dirtier.
6
Sophie
Amazing dress? Check.
Fabulous hair and makeup thanks to Nora? Check.
The bright lights of Vegas? Check.
Panties? Double check.
Not that I was wearing two pairs of panties. Just that I’d checked twice before leaving my room to make sure I was, in fact, wearing them.
I was.
Actually, today had been a surprisingly good luck sort of day. At least it had been since Mr. Calloway’s meeting with Camden Cox. That had been less than ideal, although not the total disaster it could have been. All I’d done was almost trip once, and then drop my pen and notepad.
Okay, so I’d basically head-butted him while we were both going for my pen, but it hadn’t even left a red spot, much less a bruise. I was totally fine.
I was firmly not thinking about the way it had felt to have his strong hand steadying me when I’d wobbled on my heels.
And since then, I’d been completely disaster free.
Now I sat with my friends in a swanky Las Vegas restaurant, feeling like a hottie in this deep purple dress, sipping a delicious martini. We’d been to the spa this afternoon for facials and manicures, then back to my room to change and get ready for dinner. That was where Nora’s handiwork had come in. She’d transformed me from cute-but-boring Sophie to Vegas Vixen Sophie.
I liked being Vegas Vixen Sophie. It was fun.
Corban and Mr. Calloway sat at a nearby table, tolerating each other’s company, in a rather adorable attempt to give us girls the illusion that they weren’t hovering over their wives. Not that any of us minded. They weren’t intrusive, and the way they cast protective—and longing—glances at our table was just too cute. I loved that Hazel and Everly were both so radiantly happy, even if it did remind me of my own failures in love.
Everly yawned and Mr. Calloway scooted to the edge of his seat, as if poised to swoop in and gather up his wife in his arms should she need him.
“Sorry,” Everly said. “I get tired so early these days.”
“That’s a perfectly normal consequence of pregnancy,” Hazel said. “I’m rather surprised you’ve made it this long without needing a nap.”
“Does that mean you won’t be disappointed if I turn in early?”
“Of course we won’t,” Nora said. “Besides, if you don’t go back to your room soon, your husband might give himself an aneurysm.”
Everly laughed. “I know. He’s so intense.”
“And we love him for it.”
Hazel’s eyes darted to Corban. Again.
“Oh my god, will you two stop eye fucking?” Nora said. “Both of you, go.”
“I wasn’t—” Hazel started to say, then stopped herself. “There’s just something about hotel rooms for us.”
I tried not to giggle as I watched Corban chew on his lower lip, his eyes locked on his wife. They were so obvious.
“Go,” Nora said, brushing them away with a flick of her hand. “Go have hot hotel sex. I’m completely happy for you and not the least bit jealous.”
“I’m jealous,” I said.
“I am too, obviously. I’m just trying to be nice.”
Everly stood and a second later, Mr. Calloway was at her side. Hazel got up and shot Corban a look that dripped with suggestion. The corners of his mouth lifted and he stood, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. They both walked away, in different directions, clearly beginning a game that only they understood.
“I guess this is growing up,” Nora said wistfully as we watched our friends go. “Best friends with husbands and babies on the way.”
“Things change,” I said. “And I think it’s normal to be both happy and sad about that.”
“Well said, Soph.” She stood and shouldered her purse. “I think tonight I’m going to embrace that change and turn in early.”
I followed, careful not to knock my chair over. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. To be honest, I didn’t sleep well last night. Pajamas and hotel sheets sound decadent right about now. But I don’t want to ruin your night. Would you rather go out?”
“No, I’m fine. We had fun last night, and it’s been a long day for me too. I like where you’re going with pajamas and hotel sheets.”
She and I walked to the elevators together. Her room was on the thirty-eighth floor, so she got out first. I stayed in, and the elevator rose, opening on the thirty-ninth.
I hesitated, and a moment later the doors closed again with me still inside.
Because I didn’t really want to go back to my room.
I was in Vegas, feeling awesome in this dress, and I’d had so much good luck today. My shoes fit right, my hair was behaving itself, and I hadn’t tripped or fallen even once since that meeting earlier. I’d gotten through dinner without spilling a single thing, and that had to be some kind of record.
I didn’t want to waste this good luck. Especially not here.
With a sense of resolve, I pushed the button to go back down.
We were staying at the Four Seasons—so decadent—and since I was alone, I decided to stick close and go to Mandalay Bay.