Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Vivian
I’m backstage making some minor adjustments to the massive mantis shrimp puppet when Viktor pokes his head in.
“Hey, Viv!” he calls. “How’s it going?”
I roll my eyes at him. “What brings you here, darling brother?”
“I wanted to see if you were still stuck in the mermaid costume,” he teases.
“You thought I spent the last, what, thirty hours stuck in a tail?” I scoff.
“Hey, you never know.” Viktor crosses his arms and squints up at the mantis shrimp. “I gotta say, Viv, your designs have only gotten weirder over the years. Does that thing glow in the dark?”
“If you want to know, you’ll have to come to the performance.” I step back to admire my work. Sure, it looks strange now , but it looks almost alien in the right lighting. I’m especially pleased with how the rotating eye stalks turned out. All of this is beside the point, however.
Viktor sighs. “You know Mom’s gonna drag me.”
“So, what brings you by?” I hold up a warning hand. “If this is about the new mascot costume, Renee just hired me. I’ve had like twenty minutes to think about it. Gimme a break already.”
“I’m just here to see my sister.” Viktor gives me his most innocent smile, which might be convincing if I hadn’t known him for his entire evil life. “I thought I’d take you to lunch. We don’t spend enough time together.”
I check my watch. Sure enough, I’ve missed today’s lunch spread by at least two hours. “You’re in luck. I’m too hungry to question your motives.”
We head out to the main floor, passing a cluster of aerial acrobats dressed in the red-and-white costumes of peppermint cleaner shrimp, and make our way to Sakana. I could have eaten from the buffet for free… then again, Viktor’s paying, so I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s not like he can’t afford it. Dante pays him a stupid amount of money to play for the Venom so he can foot the bill without batting an eye.
“Are we drinking?” Viktor asks as soon as we sit down.
“I will if you are.” I scan the drinks menu and decide on a Tokyo Mule. When our server stops by, Viktor orders a sake sampler.
“You’d better not be driving home,” I warn.
“Relax, I took a cab from the arena.” Viktor sits back in the booth and crosses his arms. “Knight drove me to morning skate, so I don’t even have a car with me.”
I don’t fully understand any of Viktor’s friendships—sometimes, I think he and Knight despise each other, and other times they’re good buddies. Maybe it’s a guy thing. Maybe it’s just a Viktor thing. He likes to fuck with people, but he’s just charming enough to wheedle himself back into people’s good graces when he decides he wants to play nice.
Like, for example, taking me out for lunch after abandoning me to a fishy fate only the day before.
The server returns with our drinks, and we place our order. I haven’t even had a chance to lift my cup to my lips when Viktor asks, “So, how’s your dating life?”
I paused, still clutching my cup. “Excuse me?”
“Just wondering if you’re seeing someone.” He swirls one of the little sake cups and sniffs the contents. “Ooh, that’s nice.”
“Viktor…”
He looks up at me and waits for my answer.
“I’m not seeing anyone, and you know it,” I mutter at last. I take a deep swig of my drink, which is surprisingly strong and dangerously drinkable. Most of the bartenders in Vegas do light pours; I wonder if the server recognized us and told the bartender not to skimp on the booze.
“Good to know,” is all Viktor says.
“Why are you asking?” I shake my head. “No, you know what? I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need you matchmaking. I can only imagine the drooling miscreant you’d try to hook me up with.”
This, of all things, is what finally gets a rise out of Viktor. “What makes you think…”
“Please, I’ve met your friends. I’ve grown up with half of them. And historically speaking, these hockey players are not my type. Too many pucks to the head.”
Viktor sips his sake. “I’m not angling to hook you up with a teammate. Most of the guys I know are too young for you, anyway.”
I slam my half-empty cup down. “Ex- cuse me?”
“You know, because you’re more… mature.” The little shit is taking far too much delight in my response.
“Watch it.” I jab a finger at him.
“I meant emotionally.”
“Sure you did.”
Viktor moves on to his next cup. “Hypothetically speaking, though, what if I had someone in mind who wasn’t a hockey player ?”
“Then he’s probably a player in general. And I don’t have time for that. My biological clock is ticking.”
Viktor recoils. “Can you not…”
“My eggs are shriveling up even as we speak.”
“Viv, gross, ” he whines. “I don’t want a mental image of your ovaries.”
I press one hand to my forehead and sigh. “I don’t need a fuckboy. I need a man who will fulfill both my physical and emotional needs.”
Viktor pretends to barf over the edge of the table.
“Hey, you asked.” My watch chimes, and I look down to check the message that just popped up. “Oh, hell. There was another costume emergency. I have to go.” I flag our server down and ask him to have my meal packed up to go. There’s never a dull moment in theater.
“I can’t believe you’re going to ditch me,” Viktor pouts. “I’m going to be sitting here alone at the table, looking like I got stood up…”
“Cry me a damn river,” I retort while I fire off a response to let the crew know I’ll be back ASAP. “Some of us have work to do.”
“But you’ll be at the party this weekend, right?”
I finish off the last of my drink. “The one at the house where I still live in the pool house out back? Yes, Viktor, I will be there.”
“Great. See you then, sis.”
I’m suspicious of his motives, but I don’t stick around to ask questions. Instead, I grab my lunch to go and book it out of Sakana. Apparently, someone ripped open the back of their shark costume, and I need to sew them back into it to keep the show running. While I wait for the elevators, I run through my list of options for how to temporarily fix the rip without making it hard to do proper repairs tonight.
The elevator dings. I step forward, focused on my plan, already halfway lost in the logistics of this absurd day.
The doors slide open.
And standing there, filling the space with his broad, too-damn-familiar frame, is... shit. It’s him. Elevator Guy.
And we meet again outside another contraption invented by Otis back in 1852.
My breath catches in my throat, and time slows down for just a second, long enough for my pulse to pound in my ears. He looks just as devastating as he did the first time—maybe more so. The kind of guy who knocks the air out of your lungs without even trying. His dark hair is tousled, and those blue eyes pierce through the dim lighting of the elevator, locking on mine as though he’s been waiting for me all day.
What the hell is he doing here?
I should say something—anything—to cut through the thick tension building between us. But my mind is blank. For the love of all things holy, my brain has just decided to shut down.
His eyes rake over me, taking in every inch like he’s sizing me up. The way he looks at me makes my skin burn like he’s seeing something deeper than I’m comfortable with. And for a split second, I want to know what’s going through his head. Is he curious? Confused? Or just waiting for me to step off because he’s disappointed in what I look like as a mere mortal?
Before I can even process a thought, his voice—low, gravelly, and way too sexy for my sanity—cuts through the silence. “You again.”
Two words. That’s all he says. But damn if they don’t send a shiver down my spine.
I should move. I should step inside, press a button, do something. But all I can think about is how this guy—a complete stranger—makes me feel like I’m standing on the edge of something dangerous, like one wrong move could send me tumbling into a mess I’m not sure I want to get out of.
Elevator Guy’s eyes widen. His face lights up in a grin, and goddamn, he really is striking. That jaw peppered with scruff. Those cheekbones. Those arms.
He extends one hand toward me, and at first I think he’s going to touch my face or try to put his arm around me or something. Then I realize that he’s just holding the door for me until I step inside.
I take a wary step forward. “Are you stalking me?”
The air between us is thick—too thick for this tiny elevator, too heavy with things unsaid. My heart’s pounding harder than it should be. This isn’t normal. He’s not normal.
“Nope. Not my style. I’m here for a massage.” Elevator Guy lifts one shoulder, like it’s no big deal.
“Uh-huh. The spa is next to the adults-only pool.” I point across the ground floor. “Nice try.”
“Okay, maybe I just wanted to know your real hair color.” His eyes sweep over me.
“It’s blond.” I point to my hair, which is now on full display.
“See, I thought you might be a ginger. You’re a little spicy.” Elevator Guy wiggles his eyebrows.
“I’m a lot spicy.” I finally step into the elevator with him, because I really do have to get back to work. I notice that he doesn’t select a floor even after the door closes. I was right, he’s here for me. Which is kind of flattering, and kind of, I don’t know, a little much. Too desperate. Too clingy for someone I just met. I’m not gonna lie and say that I don’t look for any excuse to give a guy the boot before I even think about getting attached to him.
That’s just what I do.
But in this rare case, I promised Mia and Jaime that I’d give him a chance if I ran into him again, so he has until I reach my floor to convince me he’s being cute and not skeezy.
He exhales slowly like he’s been carrying the weight of those words for too long. “I did come here to look for you,” he admits. “I saw your costume on the arena marquee, and thought it might be my only chance to ask your name.”
“So, you showed up at my job to ask for my personal information,” I deadpan.
“You showed up out of the blue and asked me to help peel you out of a tail,” he counters.
“What would you do with my name, if you had it?” I ask.
“Ask you on a date,” he says. “Find out if I was imagining our chemistry the other day.”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re a stage-five stalker/clinger.”
Elevator Guy grimaces. “Valid concern.”
I’m about to add something else when the elevator comes to a stop. I still haven’t decided my next move, but before I can reach a verdict, the door opens to reveal Dante.
He does a double-take when he sees us. “Oh, hi, Vivian. Have you seen Julie?”
Elevator Guy coughs into his fist. I guess he knows my name now. “She was backstage half an hour ago.”
“Oh, good.” Dante turns on his heel and sets off down the hall.
I take a step toward the door, then wave for Elevator Guy to follow. “You made it this far…” I leave my sentence unfinished, inviting him to offer up his name.
“Grady,” he says.
“Grady,” I repeat. It’s kind of dorky. Not exactly the sort of name you picture yourself howling in bed while riding out the best orgasm of your life, but okay. It’s what we have to work with. I hold out my hand. “Give me your watch, Grady.”
“Oh, uh…” He fishes a phone out of his pocket instead.
“Not a fan of modern tech then?” I ask with a grin, scanning his body until my gaze lands at the bit of gray at his temples. “I guess that tracks.” I open his phone screen without asking and pull up his contacts list. I snap a quick selfie and type in my number, adding a little mermaid emoji after my name just in case. I save myself as Viv, no last name. Just in case Grady really is a creeper.
I hand Grady’s phone back. “There you go. Text me your address. What are you doing Thursday night at… 7:30?”
Grady’s whole face lights up. “You tell me.”
“I like that can-do attitude.” I study his face. “Tell you what, you can cook for me. Bring your A-game. We’ll see what happens. But I have to give you fair warning. Don’t fall in love with me.”
He bobs his head. “Right. And why not?”
“You’re too old for this to be anything serious,” I tell him. “And I only agreed to one date . We’ll see how you do.” I blow him a kiss as I back away.
Grady gives me a lopsided smile. If he’s bothered that I called him old, he doesn’t let on. “See you Thursday. I’ll make you dinner. And I bet I can make you change your mind.”
“About what?” I ask.
“About everything.” He turns back to the elevator, and I hurry off to salvage a shark costume, wondering what I’ve just gotten myself into.