Chapter 2 #2
“He what? What did that motherfucker do?” Her tone changes to protective. She’s the stereotypical redhead—sharp, hot headed and fierce!
“I need some help, Lottie, and you’re the only one I trust to help me.”
“Don’t change the subject, young lady! What did he do, and what can I do to help? You know I’d do anything for you, babe,” she adds softly.
I’ve missed her straight talking.
I’ve missed her loyalty.
I’ve missed her friendship.
“I’ve missed you, Lottie.” I hope she can hear my smile down the phone.
“I’ve missed you too,” she says quietly before taking a breath. “Right. Now that we’ve got the sappy shit out of the way, are you gonna fill me in?”
She hasn’t changed one bit. Straight to the point, no messing.
“Yes, but not over the phone. Do you know of anywhere close to Boulder City that I can stay? A hotel or something?”
“Stay with me,” she states.
“I can’t. I mean, I just don’t think it’s wise. Not yet.”
“Okay.” She pauses. “My boyfriend’s brother owns a hotel on the Vegas Strip. Head there. I’ll sort it and text you with details,” she says firmly.
“Perfect. I owe you one, Lottie.”
“Yes, you do. Call me when you get there. I’m heading over there in about an hour anyway, so I want to know the minute you arrive.”
“I promise.” I know she is going to have a fit when she sees my face, but there’s not a lot I can do about that now. I’m just pleased she hadn’t been around to see me before I left Boulder City. “And, Lottie… can you put it under the name Natalie Jamesson?”
“Natalie who now?”
“Just… I’ll explain everything when I get there.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up. After speaking to the two people I hold dearest to me in the whole world, I’m happy. I turn the music up and open the windows, letting the wind blow away some of the weight that has been holding me down. I smile to myself and sing along with the music.
I’m going to Vegas.
***
After three hours on the road, I finally pull into Las Vegas.
I’d lived fairly nearby in Boulder City for quite a few years and had come here occasionally, but it wasn’t a place I’d frequented.
Aaron had been taken here by the boys for his Bachelor Party, although he had remained tight-lipped about what went down that weekend. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
I take a deep breath and remind myself why I’m here.
Move on. Move forward.
I follow Lottie’s directions to the hotel.
It’s huge with beautiful fountains outside and a gleaming glass frontage.
There is sparkling gold lettering above the entry that reads 'The Kingdom' and I momentarily wonder if they send someone up there to polish it every day it’s that shiny. The valet takes my car, and a bellhop greets me at the door, taking my case and walking me to the reception area. It’s stunning.
The floors are highly polished marble as is the main reception desk, and there are huge arrangements of bright green foliage and pure white fresh flowers.
Everywhere you look there are subtle accents of gold—the desk has a gold trim.
The tall ornate pedestals either side have gold flourished indentations.
It’s the kind of place Aaron would take me to for a weekend getaway.
I turn my attention to the friendly receptionist. I’m just about to speak when I hear a familiar squeal and I’m tackled from behind by a five foot redhead who has her arms wrapped around my neck and is squeezing me so hard I might pass out.
She lets go and bounces in front of me. “I’m so freaking happy to …” Her beaming smile freezes and drops as her brows knit into fierce hard lines and her tone changes to angry. “What the fuck happened to your face? Talk …” she says, putting her hand on her hip.
I smile at her softly. “Can I get out of these clothes first? Then we’ll go get a drink … please.” I don’t want to discuss this right here, and I really do want to freshen up.
“Fine. Come on, I’ll see you up to your room.”
My room is on the second floor and is beautiful.
It has floor to ceiling windows, which are dressed in crisp white drapes with a gold trim.
It’s simple, but elegant and not overdone.
I leave my case in the bedroom where the colors of white and gold are carried through, and I freshen up in the marble bathroom before Lottie and I head back downstairs to find an outside table at one of the bistros.
We are served immediately, ordering drinks and a light lunch.
“Okay, spill it,” Lottie says, putting her elbows on the table and clasping her hands under her chin.
“It’s not really that bad,” I say, waving my hand as if to prove my statement is true.
“You always were a crap liar.”
And just like that, the brave face I have managed to put on for several very long years starts to fall away.
“It’s all such a mess.” My words come out as a whisper, not wanting to really acknowledge how much of a disaster everything is, but knowing I have to get it all out in the open.
I wouldn’t tell my mom without it hurting her too much to know what I’ve been through, but I know Lottie is strong enough to handle it.
Her hand gently covers mine, and my throat aches with all the things I want to say, but I don’t know where to begin.
“Start from the beginning, babe. I have all day …”
So I tell her everything, from the day I fled Boulder City to this moment here and now. The elephant that has been sitting on my chest is lifted, and the hurt and pain I feel lessens.
“So does he know where you are, this Aaron guy?” Lottie curls her lip as she says his name. She might be small, but she can be pretty fierce.
“No.”
“And he hasn’t tried to contact you since you left?”
I shrug. “He's my husband, but seeing as he married a fictional person, I’m not even sure the marriage is legal.”
“Are you going to let him know that you’re not going back? I mean, you’re not going back, are you?”
“No! I don’t plan on going back, but I don’t plan on telling him anything either. How would I explain all of this shit? I disappeared once, and I can do it again.”
“I don’t want you to disappear.” She pouts. “I’ve missed you.”
I nod gently, reciprocating her feelings. “I just don’t know where to go from here.”
“We’ll figure something out. I know people, who … know people.”
“What do you mean?”
“You need help?” I nod. “Well, I’ll help. You need info, I know just the guy. If it means keeping my best friend safe, then I’ll pull out all the stops.”
“Thanks, Lottie. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you before. I just couldn’t drag you into it all like that.”
“Look, I know why you did it, but you’re my friend, my best friend. Actually, you’re more like a sister to me, so no more going it alone, okay?” She makes me laugh by following her mushy shit as she’d call it with a stern voice and a telling off.
“Okay, enough of my drama. I want to hear about you. Your boyfriend owns this awesome place?”
“Noooo, my boyfriend’s brother.”
“Tell me more.” I lean forward, wanting to hear how happy she is.
We continue to chat, eat and laugh. It’s great to do “normal” but before I know it the day has run away with us, and Lottie has to leave for her shift in one of the local bars.
I leave her in the foyer with a tight hug and a promise to call tomorrow to formulate some kind of plan.
I don’t know what she has in mind, and I have no idea where to begin, but it feels like it might just all work out okay.
Loneliness is hard on the mind when you have so many obstacles in your way, but when you have a friend like Lottie who is willing to hold your hand the whole way through, it suddenly feels easier.
It actually feels possible to make some kind of sense out of this jumble I call my life so far.
I make my way to the elevator, and although my mind feels lighter, my legs feel heavy.
The last twenty-four hours have exhausted me, and my head is racing with all kinds of thoughts and possibilities.
The ding sounds on the elevator, bringing me back to reality from my daydream and when the doors open, I instinctively step forward, my feet thinking before my brain, and walk straight into the person exiting.
My hands fly up to correct myself, landing on a hard, wide, chest, and I look up to apologize.
Time stops.
I take in the features of the guy in front of me. This guy is not botoxed or surgically sculpted, but he is chiseled—all natural.
His hands grasp my shoulders to steady me, strong but gentle at the same time.
He must be about six foot two as he stands a head above me, and is dressed in a slate gray suit, with a crisp white shirt which is unbuttoned twice, giving me just a peek of his flesh at my eye level.
As my gaze slowly travels upwards, I notice his dark hair is damp and falls gently across his forehead.
His lips curl into a sexy little grin, and that simple movement breaks the trance-like state I seem to have put myself in. I blink twice and shake my head.
“My apologies, miss …?” he asks huskily. The vibration in his voice ripples through my body and down to the tips of my toes. Every follicle reacts by standing on end and my skin tingles.
“Uh … Jamesson. Miss Jamesson,” I manage to stutter, earning a low chuckle from him.
I give him a nervous smile before I side-step to let him pass; he might be attractive, but I am not interested.
But he doesn’t let me move away from him as easily as I would have liked.
He makes it almost torturous instead by sliding his hands down my arms, and letting his thumbs trace the inside of my elbows, finally breaking contact when he gets to the very tips of my fingers.
It isn’t sleazy or disrespectful, but I know it’s more than I can allow myself to want right now.
It’s only once he’s not physically touching me that I can breathe, and my brain returns to some kind of normalcy.
For a moment, I question my sanity. Men have only ever brought me trouble, but I’ve never had someone make me feel so mesmerized and so nervous at the same time.
Clearly, I’m tired, possibly hormonal, and definitely emotional.
It’s been a long, tumultuous few days, few years, and I’m clearly not in control of my reactions.
I force my feet to scuttle forward and stop just inside of the elevator, pressing the button to my left repeatedly with my back still facing the door.
Wanting so badly to turn around, but not actually being able to let myself, I continue to face the back of the elevator, head down, willing the doors to shut and get moving.
As the door closes, I rub at my bare forearm to calm the unusual reaction across my skin.
What the hell just happened?