3. CHAPTER TWO #2
The rental shuttle arrived packed with tourists. I positioned us near the door, keeping Ophelia and Dante against the wall with me facing outward. Old habits. When the vehicle lurched into motion, Dante nearly lost his balance. I steadied him automatically, my hand gentle on his shoulder.
"Thanks," he said, looking up at me with those solemn eyes that seemed too old for his face.
"No problem, little man."
At the rental counter, I declined their first three offerings before settling on a dark blue SUV with tinted windows and advanced safety features. The agent's customer service smile grew strained.
"Sir, I've shown you our premium options—"
"I need side-impact airbags, a rear camera, and less than fifteen thousand miles," I interrupted, keeping my tone pleasant but firm. "The Navigator you mentioned earlier should have all that."
While I negotiated, Ophelia kept Dante occupied near the waiting area window.
"I spy with my little eye something... silver," I heard her say.
"Airplane!" Dante guessed immediately, pointing at one taking off in the distance.
"Good job! Your turn."
"I spy something... moving really fast and shiny."
"Hmm, those cars on the highway?"
"Yes!"
Their voices created a soothing backdrop as I handled the paperwork, paid in cash, and collected the keys to a vehicle substantial enough to protect them if we needed to make a quick exit.
Not that I was expecting trouble, but fifteen years in the club had taught me to plan for the worst while hoping for the best.
"All set," I announced, rejoining them. "Chariot awaits."
Dante's eyes widened when he saw the SUV. "It's huge!"
"Perfect for adventures," I said, helping him into the booster seat the rental company had provided. The kid immediately started exploring every button and compartment within reach.
"Is this... excessive?" Ophelia asked quietly as I loaded our bag in the back.
I glanced at her. "It's secure. High vantage point, good visibility, enough power to get us out of tight spots if needed." I paused, then added, "Plus, it's got a great A/C system. Kid said he was melting, remember?"
That earned me another small smile.
Once we pulled onto the Strip, Dante became a running commentary of amazement. His face pressed against the window, smudging the glass with tiny fingerprints as he pointed at everything.
"Look! That hotel looks like a castle! And that one has a pyramid! Mommy, is that a real pirate ship?"
Ophelia leaned closer to him, their heads together as they took in the spectacle of Las Vegas in full daylight. The tension she'd carried since I'd met her seemed to ease slightly, her face younger when not pinched with worry.
"It's like a fairy tale," she murmured, more to herself than to us.
"A weird adult fairy tale," I amended, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. "With slot machines instead of magic beans."
She laughed—a real laugh, unexpected and bright. It transformed her face completely. I found myself wanting to hear it again.
"So, what's our adventure today?" Dante asked, finally tearing his eyes from the window to look at me.
I checked the rearview mirror, making sure no one had followed us from the airport before answering. "Well, little man, today is a special mission. Your mom and I are going to have a ceremony, and you get to be part of it."
"Like a superhero initiation?"
I glanced at Ophelia, unsure how much she'd explained. She gave me a small nod, permission to continue.
"Yeah, kid. Your mom and I are going to get married. That means we become a team, officially. And you'll be our special helper."
His eyes widened. "Like when Aunt May and Happy almost got married in Spider-Man?"
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I nodded anyway. "Sure, exactly like that."
"Do I get a special job?"
"The most important one," I assured him. "You're going to hold the rings for us."
This seemed to satisfy him. He settled back in his seat, processing this new development with the gravity of a UN diplomat considering world peace.
"Will we live in your house after?" he asked finally.
"Yes," I said, navigating through the mid-day traffic with one eye still on the mirrors. "My house has a yard and an extra room that can be all yours."
"Does it have a pool? Uncle Jason has a pool."
"No pool," I admitted. "But there's a park nearby with a great playground."
This compromise was deemed acceptable after brief consideration.
Our hotel came into view—one of the newer luxury resorts on the Strip. Not the flashiest, but high-end enough to have serious security and private enough to keep us under the radar. I'd called ahead from the plane, making arrangements that wouldn't be traceable to any of us.
The valet approached as I pulled up to the entrance. I handed him the keys with a twenty folded between my fingers.
"Take good care of it," I said, the message clear in my tone.
"Yes, sir," he replied, understanding perfectly.
Inside, the blast of air conditioning was a relief after the scorching heat. Dante stared open-mouthed at the elaborate fountain in the lobby, while Ophelia looked almost as overwhelmed, her eyes tracking from the crystal chandeliers to the marble floors with disbelief.
"Stay with me," I said quietly, guiding them toward the VIP check-in desk away from the main lobby traffic.
The manager greeted us with practiced warmth. "Mr. Hernandez, welcome to The Oasis. We have your reservation right here."
I'd used my real name for the booking. Easier to flash club credentials if needed, and Tyler's people would be looking for a woman and child traveling alone, not a family under my name.
"We're here for our wedding," I explained, laying my credit card on the counter alongside several folded hundred-dollar bills. "Looking to make it special for my family."
The manager's eyes flicked to the cash, then to Ophelia and Dante, his expression softening. "Of course, sir. I see you've booked our deluxe suite, but I believe we might have an upgrade available to our honeymoon suite in the tower. Private elevator access, excellent views..."
"Sounds perfect."
While he processed the upgrade, I felt a small tug on my jeans.
"Are we really staying here?" Dante whispered, eyes huge.
I crouched down to his level. "Sure are. What do you think? Pretty cool, right?"
He nodded solemnly. "It's like a castle."
"Only better. Castle bathrooms were terrible."
He giggled, and I caught Ophelia watching us, her expression soft and uncertain. When our eyes met, she didn't look away this time.
"You didn't have to do all this," she said quietly.
"I know." I straightened up as the manager returned with our room keys. "But if we're doing this, we're doing it right."
"Your suite is ready, Mr. Hernandez," the manager announced, handing over the key cards. "The private elevator is to your right. Your luggage will be brought up immediately."
"Thank you." I placed a final tip on the counter.
As we walked toward the elevator, Dante skipping ahead and Ophelia close by my side, I felt her hand brush against mine—not quite holding it but not pulling away either.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the casino sounds surrounding us.
I nodded, not making a big deal of it. But as we stepped into the private elevator, Dante bouncing with excitement and Ophelia standing a little straighter than before, the tension between us eased. Trust settled in slowly, cautious but real. Or maybe it was only the beginning of it.
The bridal boutique was all soft lighting and champagne flutes, aimed at women who'd been planning their weddings since childhood.
Not exactly my scene, and judging by Ophelia's wide eyes as we entered, not hers either.
The saleswoman approached with a practiced smile, taking in our unlikely trio—me in my jeans and t-shirt, Ophelia looking exhausted but determined, and Dante clutching his Spider-Man backpack like a lifeline.
To her credit, her smile never faltered.
"We need a wedding dress," I said before she could launch into her sales pitch. "Simple. We're getting married today."
"Today?" The woman's eyebrows rose slightly. "How exciting. A Vegas elopement."
Ophelia stepped forward, her voice stronger than I'd expected. "Yes. Nothing elaborate. Just... nice."
The saleswoman—her nametag read Margaret—nodded professionally. "I understand completely. Let's find you a beautiful ready-to-wear dress." She glanced at her watch. "What time is your ceremony?"
"Five o'clock," I answered. We'd booked the chapel from the hotel room, choosing a time that would give us enough hours to prepare but not enough to second-guess.
"Perfect. We have plenty of time." Margaret turned to Ophelia with genuine warmth. "Let's find you a dress that makes you feel beautiful, shall we?"
I settled onto a velvet couch with Dante while Ophelia disappeared into the fitting rooms. The kid immediately started exploring, touching the tulle and satin of nearby display dresses with curious fingers.
"Is Mommy going to look like a princess?" he asked, running his hand along a heavily beaded gown.
"I bet she will," I answered, surprised by the sincerity in my own voice.
Margaret emerged with several garment bags. "I've selected a few options based on what might complement your coloring and frame," she explained to Ophelia. "All of these could be worn today without alterations."
Ophelia nodded, disappearing into the fitting room with the first dress. While we waited, Margaret brought Dante a cookie from the boutique's refreshment table and offered me champagne, which I declined. I needed a clear head today.
When Ophelia stepped out in the first dress—lace sleeves and a complicated back—I could tell immediately it wasn't right. Her face said it all, uncomfortable and uncertain. The second dress was better, but still not quite her.
Then she emerged in the third option, and the entire mood between us changed.