Chapter 22
Nate
Las Vegas, later that week…
“I’m glad to see the next phase of your career is working out. You want to show me your plans?”
I asked the question of Brent Nichols, who’d made the change from late-night comedian to nightclub owner, and we’d been talking about moving his first nightclub inside The Luxe on the Strip.
He flipped open his laptop. “Here’s what I’ve got in mind for the club,” he said but when he clicked open the file, a browser window popped open instead.
A social media profile of Shannon Paige.
I tipped my forehead to the screen. “Doing a little online stalking?” I asked dryly.
“Ex-girlfriend.”
I had a feeling. “Ah. Recent breakup?”
“About ten years ago,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh.
“Not so recent then,” I said in a deadpan voice. “Sounds like she’s still got a hold on you.” Then, I added, “I know that feeling well.”
Casey certainly had a hold on me.
“College girlfriend. Haven’t seen her in years,” he said.
“Well, I hope that changes—that is, if you want it to change,” I said, then we shifted gears with Brent showing me his vision for the nightclub.
After we discussed the logistics, he gestured to the door, and the world of the casino beyond it. “You up for a round of blackjack?”
“Hell yeah. I’m a gambler these days,” I said. We left my office and headed to the casino floor at The Luxe.
“What is it that’s making you a gambling man?”
“A woman. The one who has a hold on me,” I said.
He shook his head with a smile. “Kindred spirit.”
We parked ourselves on stools at a nearby blackjack table, the hustle and bustle of the casino surrounding us, the slap of cards on tables, the cha-ching of money from slots, and the scent in the air of desire for bets to turn into bigger bets.
As for me, I was betting on change. I was betting on possibilities. I was betting on hopefully someday soon having the guts to tell Casey how I was really feeling.
That prospect scared the hell out of me.
I had no clue how to find the courage to even begin to verbalize all that I felt for her, and how much she was changing my ideas of everything I’d ever wanted in my post-Joanna life.
In a few short weeks she’d upended my priorities, and had me considering everything I’d sworn off since I’d stumbled across the emails from Joanna and her professor.
But then, that wasn’t entirely true. I hadn’t only started thinking of Casey that way in recent weeks.
Those notions had been forming since I had first started to get to know her.
They’d simply elbowed their way to the front of the pack after I’d touched her, kissed her, held her, and experienced the magic of her coming apart in my arms. I supposed that was the power of such intimacy—it could shake a man to the core. It could change a man.
If I let it.
That was the big if.
That night in London had rocked my world, and had ended our roles as teacher and student.
We’d become lovers for real. We’d been together like that again and again in New York when we returned, spending nights tangled up in each other, unable to resist touching, exploring, discovering the depths of our connection. The answer? It was endless.
Which was both wonderful and terrifying.
It was the dark unknown.
Maybe that was why neither one of us had said more about what the night in London meant.
All I’d managed was to let her know that I didn’t want this time with her to end.
Which was terribly unfair because I knew deep down that I could never be enough for her long-term, and I’d have to figure out what the hell to do with this crazy mass of emotions that was rattling around in my head and in my heart.
For now, I had a soft seventeen, so I asked the dealer to hit. I was willing to take a chance on twenty-one. I overshot though, and lost a handful of chips to the house.
“Win some, lose some,” I said to Brent, and the two of us played a few more rounds.
Later that afternoon, I settled into my seat on the jet, along with a pack of Chihuahua-Min Pin mixes from a local shelter that was overrun with dogs.
They were sharing the flight with me from Vegas to New York, en route to their new homes.
The tiniest of the crew had insisted on curling up in my lap, a small brown-and-tan creature who liked to snuggle.
The flight attendant stopped by and stroked the little dog’s head. “The pilot said we’ll be ready to go in five minutes, Mr. Harper. Is there anything I can get for you?”
“I’m all set,” I said, and she returned to the front of the cabin.
My phone buzzed, and I checked the new message. It was a text from Jack. I read the note and laughed. Rather than text back, I gave him a ring.
“Lucky me. A phone call from my best man,” Jack said when he answered.
I laughed. “Yeah, and to answer your question, I’m pretty sure there are no strip clubs at my property in the Maldives.”
“Damn. I was really looking forward to a lap dance at my bachelor party.”
“Sorry to let you down,” I said, but it was all in jest. Jack had no plans for a bachelor party, and certainly none at a strip club. He wasn’t the strip club type, nor was I, for that matter. Besides, there was only one woman I wanted to see stripping…
Shit.
It hit me like a flying ton of bricks. It wasn’t as if I’d forgotten Casey was Jack’s sister, but it simply hadn’t mattered much when we were merely messing around.
Now it mattered, and I was going to have to man up and say something to Jack.
Something like, “I’m falling for your sister.
” Or maybe something closer to the truth.
“I’ve been wild about her for years, and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual, and I have no clue what to do about it, and if I hurt her I will hate myself forever and ever, and I don’t know how to not hurt her, but I don’t know how to not be with her either. Got any advice?”
But my flight had begun to taxi, so now was not the time for that conversation. Perhaps next week, when I saw him in person. Actually, that would have to be item number one on my agenda since there was no way Jack, or Michelle especially, would miss the vibes between me and Casey.
We chatted for another minute, then I told him the plane was about to take off. We said goodbye, then I quickly fired off a text to the woman who was front and center for me: Looking forward to seeing you later tonight. My place?
We’d been at my home a few times, and at her apartment the other nights. Her next-door-neighbor had even started saying hello to me when we ran into each other in the hall. There was something that felt right about being a part of her life like that.
Then I added one more line to the text before I sent it off.
Thanks again for helping with the sculpture.
As promised, Casey had helped me find the one-time wedding gift on a back shelf of my closet, then boxed it up for me.
I’d told Joanna I’d deliver it to the gallery where she was showing some of her work.
Casey had offered to take it, but I couldn’t let her do all my dirty work.
Besides, if I was going to move forward with her, I had to be man enough to face my ex-wife, even if it was simply to hand over a sculpture.
Once the jet was airborne, I reviewed the formal proposal that Casey had sent for The Luxe’s rollout of the pleasure packs in some of our resorts, with the LolaRing as the centerpiece.
I sent a few minor notes back, suggesting we announce the pending deal soon.
All in all, it looked good, and we were on the same page when it came to marketing—no need to say it felt like being licked and fucked at the same time.
For the business deal, we’d decided to go with her classier suggestion for our honeymoon suite wording: You’ve given her a diamond ring, now give her the LolaRing.
An exclusive partnership, it made The Luxe the only hotel chain in the world to partner with Joy Delivered on the new product’s launch.
Funny how all the details of our business deal were laid out in black and white, and all the specifics of our lessons had been determined in advance. But now, I was flying blind with Casey, operating without a guidebook, and completely unsure how to navigate this new stretch we’d encountered.
I only hoped I didn’t crash.