Chapter 1 #2
The puppy proceeded to lick his hands and face, not at all bothered with Simon being a stranger.
“Jinx!” A woman burst through the crowd, coming to a screeching halt before them.
She looked like a contradiction. Her black slacks and a crisp white shirt suggested a held-back, perhaps even boring occupation, but her silvery blond hair swept around her shoulders like she was a model bound for a photoshoot, and a healthy ruby glow of her cheeks indicated her last few minutes had been anything but boring.
Simon guessed she was neither: not a boring office worker, nor a model, simply because she lacked a few inches and the haughty demeanor of one.
Which left the question—who was she?
“Thank you for catching him.” She dropped down to her knees.
“No problem.” His lips drew into a smile. She had pretty eyes—a pale greyish blue, like the sea after a storm. Oh, that would be a nice place right now—but he brought himself back to the present. “I assume he’s yours.”
“My beloved menace.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes flicking from the dog to Simon. “Come on, Jinxie. We gotta go now.”
Simon gently nudged the dog away. She scooped him up and stood, Simon following suit.
“Thanks, uh …” A little crease appeared between her eyebrows as she searched his face.
She didn’t recognize him. Otherwise, she’d already be hitting him with any version of the all-too-familiar, Oh my god, you’re the Simon Montague?
In a split second, the solution blazed through Simon’s mind. A break—a reprieve—something fun to do, anything—
“Wait.”
She turned. Her eyes rounded and, maneuvering while still holding the puppy, she reached into her small traveling bag with one hand. “Right. How much do you need?”
“What?”
“For helping me stop Jinx. I have, uh …” She pried a weathered leather wallet open with her teeth, fished out a few banknotes, and mumbled something.
“You don’t need to pay me,” he said. “I wanted to ask … would you like to go for a drink?”
“Aigh—” She put away the wallet and repeated, “Right now?”
“Kind of. Yes.”
He studied her posture as she deliberated. She’d been slightly hunched, shoulders slouched forward in a despondent manner, but she drew them back, and a smile lit her round face. “That would be nice. As long as I’m not the one serving it.”
Simon gestured to the bar, and they walked over while he helped her get a leash on Jinx. The barman, seeing the dog approach, opened his mouth, but Simon discreetly slid over a tenner while the woman fussed over the puppy.
“A daiquiri for me,” Simon said. “And for the lady …?”
“Uh … dark ‘n’ stormy?” She sat on the barstool next to him while Jinx circled around a few times, then plopped down at her feet.
“You’ll have to be careful getting up,” Simon said.
“Because of the drinks or the dog?”
He laughed. “I don’t plan on getting you that drunk.”
“Very gentleman-like of you, uh …”
Right. If he didn’t have to be Simon for the night, who would he be? A traveler? An explorer headed for the exciting unknown, like the great mythological heroes? “Jason,” he said after a good few seconds had passed.
“Jason.” Her tone indicated she wasn’t convinced—but that she didn’t mind the game, either. “And what do you do, Jason, to have found yourself in Las Vegas on a fine evening like this?”
“I’m a traveler.”
“One would assume.”
“No, I mean …” He leaned in. “I travel the world. Go to distant places—the busy ones, the forgotten ones—”
“A globetrotter.”
“Exactly. And you?”
“I’m … Anneliese. And I’m completely normal.” She proudly lifted her chin.
Simon tilted his head, approving her deception.
The drinks arrived. “Pleased to meet you, Anneliese,” he said, and they clinked glasses.
“So, what latest adventure do you come from?”
Oh, what would be fun? A jungle with ancient pyramids, a tropical island, a bustling megalopolis? Then he stared into her eyes—a north sea after a storm—and …
“Iceland,” he blurted.
She lifted her eyebrows. “Interesting. Not what I expected you’d pick. But I hear it’s beautiful.”
Maybe one day, he could confirm it. Although it was unlikely he’d visit it for business—it was too small and irrelevant for Aries to open a subsidiary there. As for pleasure, one could always dream.
But he went on, anyway, spouting flowery words about black beaches and magnificent desolate landscapes and peppered in a story he’d once seen in a documentary, of how a local made him eat ground-aged pickled shark that may or may not have been poisonous.
Before Simon knew it, the hour was much later, and there were three empty glasses both by his and Anneliese’s side.
His head held a constant pleasant buzz, the perfect balance between being inebriated enough to not care about his life worries anymore, but not flat-out drunk.
“Oh, shoot.” Anneliese straightened up. “Jinx needs a walk. Like, you know, a walk.”
“Right,” he said. “He’s a boy, yes? So, the men’s restrooms?”
Anneliese burst into a melodic laugh, dragging him with her. The barman stopped for a second, opened his mouth, paused, then shook his head and continued to the next patron.
“There’s a side exit over there,” Simon said. “Let me help untangle you.”
“Like you untangled yourself from those vines in the jungles of Cambodia.”
“Exactly.” Ah, what a wonderful, imaginary version of Simon that was.
They headed across the casino, the space as lively as it had been hours ago. The light mist from the Golden Luck Fountain, spewing soft waves of glitter-enhanced water, cooled Simon as they walked by it.
“Just a moment.” Anneliese set her bag on the floor by the fountain’s edge.
Simon followed her like a second puppy, a permanent smile on his face.
He wasn’t quite sure what happened next—the three cocktails didn’t help his eye-to-brain connection—but Jinx zigged around Anneliese while she tried to retrieve something from the bag, then she was waving her arms in the air …
And then she was in the fountain.
Simon hurried to help her, but he still couldn’t stop laughing. Not because she looked funny—well, she did, but all of it was funny.
Spitting out water, Anneliese moved a wet lock off her face. “Have I told you I’m the unluckiest person in the world?”
He leaned on the low edge of the fountain with one arm, so they were face-to-face. “I don’t know what you’re saying. You’re literally in the Golden Luck Fountain. You couldn’t be luckier.”
Anneliese threw her head back and laughed. “What in the world is a Golden Luck Fountain?”
“People drop gambling chips in it to bring them luck. You know, instead of coins.” He reached in, brought out a chip, and flicked it back into the water. “And they put glitter in the water, so it looks golden.”
The same glitter was now sticking to her skin, lending her a sheen changing from golden to silver as the lights caught her face. With the glittering complexion and her wet, silvery hair, she looked like a water nymph, coming to take him away.
And as he stared at her, particularly at a piece of glitter stuck on her lower lip …
He wanted to go with her into the crystal depths.
Her gaze stopped on his, her lips now free of laughter, parted in the most inviting manner …
“I should go get dried off,” she said. Simon helped her out, and she turned in a circle. “Bathroom. That way. Could you keep an eye on Jinx for a minute?”
“Sure.” He secured the puppy while she rushed away, dripping a straight line across the room.
It was closer to ten minutes, but Simon didn’t mind. He found a knotted rope toy peeking out of Anneliese’s travel bag and used it to play tug of war with Jinx, then petted the overly excited pup on his belly as Jinx rolled from side to side.
“Who’s a good boy, huh? You are. Yes, you are,” Simon cooed. “And a very naughty boy, too, for running all over the casino. Not that I mind.” He didn’t mind a tiny bit. Actually, he should thank Jinx.
“Sorry for the wait,” Anneliese’s voice came from a few feet away.
Simon raised his eyes and dropped his jaw.
She’d changed from her soaked slacks and shirt into something more befitting a nymph: a flowy cream strap dress, the multi-layered, asymmetrical skirt coming down to her shins.
The fabric seemed light enough for a breath of wind to blow it away, and it floated around her as if she were still underwater.
“A nice lady lent me—gave me?—this. She was very drunk.” Anneliese giggled. “She was changing into a party dress and didn’t need this one anymore. She’d just gotten married.”
He wasn’t sure if it was the three cocktails or just Anneliese that didn’t make complete sense. “What?”
“They were having a wedding at the chapel over there. She said it was awesome, but the after-party is going to be even better.”
A string of victorious dings sounded from a nearby gambling machine, unleashing a cloud of celebratory confetti that drifted through the air behind Anneliese.
The subdued lights shifted into a rainbow that caught in the semi-translucent layers of her dress, highlighting her in pearlescence, and even in the jumble and chaos of their surroundings, for that moment, for Simon, no one else existed but her.
His fledging idea turned into a sign from the universe itself.
He couldn’t let this woman go.
He jumped to his feet. “That’s a great idea. We should go.”
“To the party?”
“No, no.” He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “See, you’re already dressed for it.” Joy and excitement mingled within him, stretching his lips into a grin. “We should go get married.”
***
Shanna knew one thing, and that one thing was that the only thing to have gone right tonight—the one thing—was him. Jason, or whatever his real name was; she didn’t particularly care.