Chapter 11
PETAL
We deplane onto the tarmac in Vegas, where it’s blistering hot, as expected, and even more so thanks to the black asphalt. But in seconds, we’re escorted to a gigantic black Suburban that is thankfully air conditioned to near-freezing.
Rake and I squeeze into the far back, joined by Tyler.
“Who booked this thing?” Rake grumbles, moving his legs to find a little more room.
He looks like a giant in the tight space.
Zink pipes up from the passenger seat, where he hollers over his shoulder. “I did and if you don’t like it, next time get your own car. We’re only going a couple miles. Don’t show Petal what a princess you are right off the bat, buddy.”
I snicker. Can’t help it. Rake looks down at me and I stare right back.
God, he’s got nice eyes.
“Are you for me or against me, Petal? Because so far, you seem to be siding with these creeps who I call friends.”
The SUV turns a corner, throwing me into him, and with my legs smashed against his, my dress slides up my thighs. Rake keeps glancing down but quickly looking away like he hasn’t noticed.
Yeah right, buddy.
I grab the oh-shit handle as we fly around another corner. “I’m not taking sides. I don’t know any of you and have yet to decide which team to ally with. It’s an important decision, and I’m making it carefully.”
Tito claps his hands from the seat in front of me. “Yes. Someone else is a Survivor fan. Petal, you’re gonna be just fine.”
“First stop, Del Frisco’s,” Jonah hollers, watching the crowds as we whiz by the hotels on the Strip. “I am starving for a nice rare hunk of cow.”
I look up at Rake. “We’re not going to the hotel first?”
He shakes his head. “No need. I texted our concierge, who already arranged a room for you. They’ll take care of getting your toiletries and things. Don’t worry.”
Nice. “I’m not worried,” I say, looking right at him.
A slow smile grows on his face and he looks down at me. “Sure thing, tough guy.”
I shimmy in my seat and look straight ahead.
We arrive at one of Vegas’ top restaurants, and it doesn’t disappoint with its polished dark wood and big leather chairs. Hipster music plays in the background, and I’m pretty sure Cameron Diaz just walked in with her husband.
We settle into a private booth in the back of the restaurant after parading through and attracting a shit-ton of attention. The wine starts flowing and I have Rake on one side, Daria on the other.
“So what’s your deal, Petal Parker?” Rake asks.
I sip my wine. It’s a tasty one. These guys know what they’re doing. “My deal? You’re interested in my deal?”
His eyebrows shoot up. He’s clearly not used to someone not impressed by him. I intend to keep driving that message home.
“Hey, I figure we’ll be spending the next few hours together. We have to talk about something. Unless you prefer religion and politics?”
“Nah. Way too soon for that.”
“Soooo, that means there will be another time? You planning on hanging out with me again?”
He looks at me, like really looks at me, in a way that Andy never did. The man is either interested in what I have to say, or damn good at faking it.
“No promises, Rake Hanson. No promises.”
He laughs. “Fair enough.”
So confident. Like he’s never been told no in his entire life. Wait till he spends a bit of time with me.
I catch Tito and Wendy watching us, and when I do, they look away, embarrassed. They’re adorable and have barely stopped holding hands since we arrived.
I know someone’s going to have a fun child-free night. I only hope I’m not in the room next door to them.
“Your friends are very invested in the outcome of this date,” I say, waving at them from across the table.
Rake grins as the waiter sets a giant slab of beef before him. “They’re just nosy fuckers. That’s about the extent of it.”
“They’re very nice. I can tell they care about you.”
The waiter delivers my shrimp and Rake frowns. “Who orders seafood at a steak place?”
“Back off. I love shrimp, it’s my favorite. Anyway, what do you want to know about me that you haven’t already read online?”
He raises an eyebrow. “So. It’s true? That you left some poor dude at the altar?”
I set my fork down. “That’s true, partially anyway.
I did leave my fiancé at the altar. But that’s not the full story, and there’s no reason to feel sorry for him.
Just before I pranced down the aisle, ready to announce my I-do’s to the whole world, his very own twin sister told me he was doing his college friend, Jessica, who was sitting only a couple pews away. ”
His mouth falls open. “Jesus. That’s fucked up. Why’d you walk down the aisle, then? Why didn’t you split as soon as she told you?”
Good question, one I’ve thought about a million times. The answer is simple.
“Because, hope. When you hear bad news, the first place your brain goes is hope it’s not true. Please don’t let it be true. It can’t possibly be true. You know, that little thing called denial. I didn’t believe her, at least not at first. I didn’t want to.”
“Then how’d you figure out it was true?”
I think back to Andy’s glance at Jessica in the church. If he’d just been smart and not looked at her, I’d never have known. He took me for an idiot, and the fool blew his cover.
I’d be married right now, still working in accounting, and living with an unfaithful husband.
“I saw it in his face. That’s how I knew.”
Rake shakes his head and rubs his hand over mine. “Ugh. That sucks. I’m so sorry.”
We look at his hand on mine, and he doesn’t move his until a new photographer sneaks up to the table, blinding us with his flash.
So. Annoying.
“Did Vince set this up? The photographers and stuff?”
Rake waves over the ma?tre d’ and slips a couple bills into his hand. “Help me out, will ya?” he asks, gesturing to the photographer.
In an instant, the man is banished.
“Vince set up the ones in San Francisco, but not this one. This guy’s just garden variety paparazzi. It’s a fact of life for us. Well, when we’re having a winning season. When you’re down, they couldn’t give a shit about you.”
I look at Rake. “Did Vince know we were coming to Vegas?”
A playful look crosses Rake’s face. “No. He has no idea, and boy is he going to be pissed. He likes to control things, especially when it comes to me.”
“I get the feeling you like messing with him.”
“Yeah. Wouldn’t you? He’s a total asshole. I can’t stand him and he can’t stand me because I call him out on it.”
“I could kind of tell.”
Rake finishes his food while I’ve barely started on mine. I hold a hand over my plate. “Don’t be looking at my shrimp, buddy. It’s not my fault you ate your steak so fast.”
He drops his head back and laughs, a loud, deep-throated laugh, the kind that makes everyone else smile too. “You’re good, Miss Parker. You are good.”
Damn right.
“So what’s that necklace you’re wearing?” he asks.
Busted. I always play with it when I’m thinking.
“It’s an initial from one of my dad’s cuff links,” I say. “He died when I was a baby.”
Concern crosses his face. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I’m fine with it, really.
I have no memories of him. You can’t mourn someone you never knew.
My mom, who you met, raised me on her own.
She comes from an old San Francisco family and was pretty well off, but she worked hard and developed her own vineyards and winery.
It pretty much runs itself now, so she spends her days on her charity work. As you’ve seen.”
Rake reaches for the wine bottle in front of him and looks at it. “Shit, we should have ordered some of your mother’s wine. If they have it here.”
I nod. “They have it here. I saw it on the list.”
“Then why didn’t you speak up? Wait, I’ll order a bottle right now.” He raises his hand for the server.
But I lower it for him. “I have her wine all the time,” I laugh. “It’s nice to have something different.”
With a shrug, he fills my glass with the bottle in his hand, and I make a mental note to take it slow. It’s going to be a long night and even though the people I’m with are nice, I don’t really know them. I need to keep my shit together.
“So what’s the rest of the wedding story? How did you make your grand exit?” he asks.
“Oh, right. So, I get down the aisle, in front of everyone—my fiancé, the priest, all our friends and family. And then I see him look over at Jessica. Just a quick glance, but it was all I needed to see. I knew right away. I tossed her my flowers after smacking him with them, and got my ass out of there.”
He presses his lips together, nodding with great concern, but a second later bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, I’m sorry, but that is just so great. You hit him, then tossed her the flowers. Fucking A,” he adds, giving me a high-five.
I can’t believe it, but I’m actually laughing about it now, too.
Something I never thought I’d do when I think back to that day.
“The press that followed wasn’t fun. A lot of people in San Francisco know my family, and Andy is an up-and-comer in city politics, so it was very high-profile. I don’t recommend it.”
He holds up his glass and he toasts me. “To not taking any shit.”
“A mantra to live by.”
“What’s going on over there,” Tyler calls across the table. “Are you guys already in love or something?”
Rake answers without missing a beat. “If we were, we wouldn’t tell you, Ty.”
They raise their glasses with us, and I have to admit I’m having a good time.