Chapter 28
MADDIE
Istep into the marble shopping arcade, still vibrant though it is near midnight.
A woman in a flashy red dress puts her hands around a much older man to her right, laughing at something he said.
Two women with tattoos and multi-colored hair lock arms as they push a stroller in front of them. Whether it contains an animal or an infant, I can’t tell.
Las Vegas.
I’ll be only too glad when I’m out of here.
Snorty and I pass the large, oversized window of the strip club where I saw Joseph earlier this morning.
The dancing girls are as energetic as ever. Pulsing pink light spills out onto the marble in front of me.
I peek inside, curious if Joseph is there.
For the first time, I wonder if he had any fallout from his name and face in the tabloid.
After our yoga session, I remember Janie telling me that his company was super strict.
Though the tabloid was sleazy, I suppose there wasn’t anything morally wrong about hugging an ex-fiancé in a shopping arcade.
Except for his hand on my ass. His bosses had to see that. But could a man be fired for doing that? In Las Vegas?
Hard to say.
I take a second look inside, but Joseph isn’t there.
“Thank God,” I say to myself, shifting Snorty's carrier as we head toward the elevators.
We turn the corner.
And I freeze.
Joseph’s in an alcove by the restrooms, gripping the rim of a chrome trash can. His body jerks twice before he wretches into it violently.
The sound echoes against marble. Raw and desperate.
Then he collapses sideways, landing in a tangled heap, face pale and damp.
“Joseph,” I say to myself from a safe distance, stunned. “What happened to you?”
Snorty stiffens in my arms, ears pricked.
This isn’t the arrogant, self-assured golden boy who strode back into my life last year with a smug grin.
This is someone broken.
Two security officers round the corner at the same time I do.
“There he is,” the woman says. “Another one who can’t hold his liquor.”
The security guards discuss the next course of action. The woman opens a leather book from her back pocket and writes something in it.
The man takes photographs of Joseph lying near the trash.
My gut instinct tells me not to get involved. To go directly to my suite. That Joseph deserves everything he has coming to him.
But then I realize that he didn’t have anything to do with the tabloid photo capturing us together. That image was tabloid fodder because of Rio’s fame and had nothing to do with Joseph.
Joseph, like me, was just an innocent victim.
The male officer catches me edging forward, looking at Joseph. “Ma’am, you know this man?”
A sharp, vindictive part of me wants to say no.
Wants to take smug satisfaction in seeing them drag him out.
Wants him to feel humiliated just as he humiliated me.
Wants him to wake up in jail and alone.
But part of me remembers the idealistic version of Joseph. And that’s the part that won’t let me abandon him like this.
“Yes,” I say softly. “He’s with me.”
The officers exchange a look, reassessing the scene now that I’ve claimed him.
“He’s extremely intoxicated,” the female officer warns. “Are you sure a slight-built girl like you can handle him?”
“Yes,” I say quickly. “He got bad news today. It hit harder than I expected.”
It’s close enough to the truth to sound convincing. The officers soften a fraction.
“All right,” the male officer says. “Make sure he gets upstairs safely. Hydrate him. Keep him on his side if case he vomits again.”
I nod, though my stomach turns at the thought.
“Get up, Joseph,” I say, crouching. The alcohol fumes hit me before my fingers even touch him. “Joseph, you have to get up.”
He groans, head rolling toward my voice
“Maddie?” he slurs.
My throat tightens. “Yeah, I’m here.”
He tries to stand, but his legs give out beneath him.
I slip my arm under his and guide him toward the elevator. Snorty's carrier hangs over my other shoulder.
The officers watch until we step inside.
Only when the doors close do they walk away.
The elevator hums upward as Joseph sags heavier against me, like dead weight.
Snorty looks aat me through his netting with quiet anxiety.
The elevator hums upward as Joseph sags heavier against me, dead weight.
“Okay,” I say aloud, feeling along his pockets. “Where’s your room key?”
He doesn’t answer so I pat him down.
Wallet. Receipts. More receipts. A single breath mint wrapper.
Then finally, a key card. It responds to my own floor. I guess his company housed him in the VIP floor, too.
Once we reach the floor, I find his suite. I maneuver him toward the sofa. His head lolls back as I drop him on the cushion.
Snorty yips to be let out. As soon as I unzip his carrier, my Frenchie trots over to observe Joseph.
“Maddie…” Joseph murmurs, reaching for me with a helplessness that brings out my maternal core.
I loosen his tie and unbutton the top of his shirt to give him air.
“Let’s get you breathing normally first.”
“Maddie… my Maddie,” he mumbles, the words clinging together. “Knew you’d save me…”
A bitter laugh almost escapes me. Of course he thinks this is about him. Even now.
I slide off his jacket, accidentally tearing a seam. I don’t feel even a flicker of guilt. “You’re a mess,” I say. “An absolute mess.”
Removing his belt takes effort, awkward with his unsteady limbs.
When I finally get him upright again, he stumbles, nearly taking me down with him. I plant my feet and pull him toward the bedroom doorway.
“Come on,” I grunt. “You’re not crashing on the floor.”
He collapses onto the mattress with a guttural noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan.
I push him toward the center so he won’t fall. Then I toss a blanket over him and step back to observe him.
“Well, that’s done,” I say, my whole body trembling with adrenaline, disgust, and pity.
My first instinct is to grab Snorty and go back to my room.
But then Joseph vomits.
I’ve read stories of people suffocating in their own vomit. So with this newest development, I know leaving him to his own devices is not an option.
I clean the mess from him and the bed, then wipe his face clean with a fresh towel.
Leaving the door open so I can hear his breathing, I settle myself into the living room sofa.
I haven’t had babysitting duties for a decade. But here I am today tending a million-dollar-a-year banker.
Snorty joins me on the sofa and I move him toward my chest, enjoying the reassuring warmth of his fur.
Was Las Vegas a mistake?
A key goal was to meet the Quench sponsor Henry Lemon. Mission accomplished in that sense.
But though the impression I made on him was not the greatest, I feel I can salvage our relationship.
First, I need to finish my report. I set up my office environment on the coffee table in front of me.
I unfold my portable keyboard and put my device into its center.
Seeing I'm settling down to work, Snorty repositions himself against me. A warm, steady presence.
Minutes slide into hours. My fingers move faster as ideas crystallize, paragraphs forming with unusual clarity.
At a certain point, Snorty stretches his paws and curls against me tighter. His soft breathing a calming counterpoint to Joseph’s muffled snores.
I fall back into my work.
Words flow cleaner now. Decisions align. The pieces finally click.
I check the clock.
3 a.m.
“Oh God,” I say to Snorty. “We worked all night.”
I rub my eyes, stand, and walk quietly to the bedroom. Joseph is still asleep in the exact position I left him.
He's snoring loudly, blanket half-tangled around his torso.
He’ll survive.
“Come on, Snorts,” I say. “Let’s go to our suite.”
Snorty hops off the sofa and follows me to the door.
With his carrier in hand, I slip quietly into the hallway.
But I barely make it through the doorway when I spot Rio walking out of the elevator, coming toward me from the opposite direction.
He stops short when he sees me.
Eyes dark.
Jaw tense.
“Maddie?” he says, voice sharp. “Where the hell are you coming from? Joseph’s room?”
My mouth opens, but the words get stuck.
He studies me—cold, guarded.
Then he delivers the blow.
“Do whatever the fuck you want.”
He storms toward our suite, opens it, and slams it shut.
I wait, my ear against the exterior door, until I hear him open, then slam shut the door to his own room.
With no place to go, I softly open the door and rush into my own room.
I slip into my bed and call for Snorty to join me. As I cuddle him, I close my eyes, eager for sleep to overtake me.