Chapter 8 #2
The party was fun and low-key, the Sessego team enjoying one another’s company and the fabulous views.
A few stories below them, bungee jumpers leapt off the side of the building every few minutes, and Gabe and Kira and some of the guys cheered and toasted them every time.
After an hour or so, Simone started to gather everyone for candles and singing, but Simone couldn’t find Gabe, and Anya couldn’t find Zeke—until she spotted him on his phone, pacing at the bar’s entrance near the elevators.
“You’re sure?” he said into the phone. “There’s no one else?”
Anya approached him, her face scrunched up with concern. What’s wrong? she mouthed, but he put up his finger—Hold on a second.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay. I’ll be there.”
He hung up and sighed.
“Don’t tell me,” she said, already knowing what was coming next.
“Fire in Carson City. Not a literal fire, but…”
“They need you up there?” Anya finished.
Zeke nodded. “First thing tomorrow, which means I need to leave now.”
“Now?!” Anya tugged Zeke’s arm. “You only got home two days ago, and we have Chandelier Bar tonight.”
“It’s a six-hour drive.” Zeke’s tone was apologetic. “And you don’t need me for Chandelier Bar. It’s a fancy night out with all your friends, you’ll have fun without me.”
“Not as much fun,” Anya said with a pout. “I bought a new outfit, special. I was really excited to show you.”
In fact, Anya had blown the better part of a week’s salary on the single sexiest garment she’d ever purchased; she and Simone had gotten tipsy and gone shopping at one of the luxury casinos one night after work.
“I’m so sorry, Annie,” Zeke said. “You can show me when I get back, okay?”
“Sure.” Anya tried to be agreeable, but she felt crushed. She didn’t blame Zeke—work was her priority too, same as him—but it was terrible timing all the same.
He pulled her in for a quick kiss, which turned into kind of a long kiss. The elevator dinged, and they looked up. Gabe was standing right there, giving them a weird look.
“Sorry,” Gabe said, awkwardly stepping around them.
“We were in the way.” Zeke put his arm around Anya’s waist and pulled her aside, then gave her one more kiss. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay,” Anya said. “Drive safe.”
Zeke got into the elevator and gave Anya a sad little wave as the doors slid shut.
“Where’s Zeke going?”
Anya turned to see Gabe was still standing there, looking at her.
“Carson City,” she said curtly. “Work.”
“Oh yeah?” Gabe sounded only mildly interested. “That’s too bad.”
Anya wanted to tell him to shut up, to yell at him for being an asshole earlier—and in general—but he was already walking up to Kira with a huge smile on his face.
“Where were you?” Kira asked. “We’re gonna do candles.”
“I was getting your birthday present.” He grinned, then handed Kira an envelope that looked like a folio for airplane tickets.
“Are we flying somewhere?” Kira looked confused.
“Open it!” Gabe urged.
Kira opened the folio—they were novelty tickets. Each one said Good for one bungee jump.
“I got us two tickets!” Gabe said. “I jumped with Tallulah last summer. The rush is insane—you’re gonna love it.”
“Oh.” Kira’s voice was stilted. “Wow. That’s so cool of you.”
Gabe’s face fell. “Unless…you’re not into that?”
“It’s just”—Kira cleared her throat—“like, in here, the view is amazing, but we have windows. And walls. Out there…it’s pretty high up?”
Outside, another bungee jumper leapt off the side of the building, but Kira wasn’t cheering now. She looked vaguely green.
Simone grabbed Kira’s hand. “Babe, are you sure you wouldn’t rather just eat the cupcakes? Than jump off a building?”
Kira nodded gratefully. “I do, uh, yeah. I do think maybe that would be better.”
“Of course.” Gabe looked hurt, but he swallowed it and smiled. “No, of course. I’m sorry, man. I should have asked before I bought the tickets. That was stupid of me.”
“Nah, you were doing something nice.” Kira clapped his shoulder, smiling as color returned to her face. “Hey, but you should still jump! We can all wait for you at the bottom. It’ll be awesome.”
“No, that’d be weird. Don’t worry about it.”
Gabe laughed uncomfortably and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked so awkward that Anya almost felt sorry for him.
“You bought two tickets, right?” Judy stepped forward, and Gabe turned to her in surprise.
“Uh…yeah?”
“So I’ll go.”
“What?!” Walt looked at Judy in shock.
“Mom, what are you talking about?” Anya gasped.
Judy folded her arms and looked at all of them like they were being complete fools.
Walt and Anya called this her “teacher look,” and it was one of the most highly effective weapons in her vast arsenal for getting her way.
Even though Judy was only five-foot-three, same as Anya, with the same zaftig figure and unruly curls (graying curls, now), she could still be deeply intimidating when she wanted to be.
“What, you can play spy all summer and I can’t go on one bungee jump?” she said to Walt. Then she turned to Gabe. “You don’t want to go alone. So I’ll go with you.”
“I…” Gabe looked like he genuinely didn’t know what to say. In eight years of knowing him, Anya had never seen that before. “Are you sure?”
“Is it safe?” Judy gave him an appraising look, and he nodded. She broke into a wide smile. “Then why not? It sounds fun.”
It had, undoubtedly, been one of the weirder days of Gabe’s life.
Meeting Anya’s parents was one thing—how immediately terrific they were, how totally alone it made him feel to stand in an elevator with Anya and her parents and her boyfriend.
Her boyfriend. God, that guy was ordinary.
He was nice enough, whatever, and she certainly seemed to like him; she couldn’t stop kissing him all afternoon.
He was big, so. Gabe guessed there was that.
He could go fell a tree for her if necessary.
It wasn’t like Gabe cared who Anya dated.
He was happy with Tallulah, and it was none of his business what Anya did with her personal life.
She could start a polycule with ten dull lumberjacks for all he cared.
It just got on his nerves that Anya acted like she was too good for Gabe and then got together with some guy who wore gym shorts to a party and ditched her before it was over.
And all that was before Gabe jumped off a building with Anya’s mother.
He didn’t know why he thought Judy would be soft or kindly—probably because everyone loved her so much down at the phone bank.
But of course she wasn’t. She was tough and smart and fiery, and completely stubborn, and insanely brave.
She was just like Anya. It was surreal, watching Judy strap on a bright teal jumpsuit and click into her helmet, walking together onto that small platform as the wind whooshed around them and the sun set over Sin City, the neon lights of the casinos already blazing.
Gabe thought he’d need to comfort Judy, or encourage her at least, but she never wavered.
It was like she’d made up her mind to do the thing, so the only conceivable option was to do it.
Then they were plunging through the air, and Gabe was yelling with exhilaration, and Judy was whooping like a teenager at prom, and when they made it to the landing pad Judy jumped up and down and pulled Gabe into a tight hug, this incredible hug.
“Thank you,” she said to him, her eyes shining.
“Don’t thank me, thank Isaac Newton,” Gabe joked, and Judy threw back her head and laughed.
But then Walt and Anya rushed over to Judy, and they were all so excited and worried and hugging and shouting questions at one another, and Kira and Simone were there hugging Gabe, and then they went back upstairs to eat more cupcakes.
It was all normal, except—Gabe felt off.
Not from the jump. Or maybe from the jump, he wasn’t sure.
Despite his protests, Judy sent Gabe home with a whole tray of leftover cupcakes, and Anya went over to Kira and Simone’s place so they could get ready for Chandelier Bar together.
It was Simone’s favorite bar in Vegas, set inside a giant chandelier so you were surrounded at all times by thousands of crystals suspended in midair.
This would be a smaller group than the party at the Strat, only ten people or so, all in cocktail attire—a bonus since Gabe loved any excuse to break out his favorite suit, black and crisp with a subtle sheen.
He checked his reflection in his hallway mirror.
The apartment he’d leased for the cycle was sleek and masculine with dark walls, big windows, and leather furniture.
The suit looked great with a black button-down beneath it, worn open at the collar.
His sandy hair was combed back, and a gold chain and black boots were the perfect finishing touches.
It all felt so Vegas—a little seedy, a little splashy.
Gabe loved how this town made him feel: like nothing was a problem, because everything was temporary.
Gabe was ready to go an hour before they were scheduled to meet, and waiting around his apartment made him twitchy.
(He tried FaceTiming Tallulah, but she didn’t pick up.
He wasn’t sure what time zone she was in this week.) So he decided to head to the bar a little early.
The bartender on shift was cute; Gabe told her to surprise him and she made some kind of spicy Thai-inspired coconut lemongrass gin cocktail that was ridiculously strong.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I think you’re trying to get me into trouble,” he said with a grin.
“Please.” She returned the smile. “Like you need my help with that. I’m Morgan, by the way.”