Nothing Stays In Vegas (19 page)

"You didn't call," I said. "You got the note?"

"I didn't... I couldn't...."

"I've thought about you."

She blinked hard and her eyes glassed over. 

"I'm sorry," I said rushing my words. "I shouldn't have said that. I just-"

"No, it's fine. I-"

"What the hell is this?" 

Lexi jerked her hand away. I pulled back and looked up. 

"Andrew, you're late," Lexi said.

"I see you got a replacement," Andrew said. 

So this was the husband? He spoke with the concentration of a man who'd had too much to drink but was trying to hide it. I'd seen it more than once.

"Andrew," she said.

"I was just leaving," I offered and stood. At first glance he didn't look like the type of man to make a scene, but all bets were off when someone had been drinking. I didn't feel like risking it.

"Oh, don't leave on my account. It looks pretty cozy," Andrew said. 

"We're just..." Lexi started and looked to me for help. 

"I was actually the guy who helped her plan Nicole's birthday festivities all those years ago," I said without missing a beat. "What are the odds we'd recognize each other after all these years?" I added looking directly into her eyes. 

What were the odds indeed?

"Is that right? Fascinating," Andrew said looking between us. He took a step forward and leaned down giving Lexi a firm kiss on her lips. When he righted himself he looked at me and asked, "Was there something else?"

I'd spent enough time in customer service to know when I was dealing with a man who was trying to assert his dominance. I also knew when to make my exit. 

"Lexi," I said. "It was a pleasure running into you again." I didn't dare shake her hand. I wasn't sure I'd be able to let it go a second time. "Enjoy your dinner."

"Thank you, Leo," she said meeting my gaze. Was that longing in her eyes? Was there still something there? Did she feel it too?

Andrew cleared his throat.

I shook my head tearing myself away from her. "May I recommend the special? Sarah, the head chef, has a phenomenal palate," I said. I forced myself to turn away and walk to the bar where my styrofoam takeaway was waiting. 

I took my dinner, nodded to the bartender and left the restaurant without looking back to eat my dinner in my office, alone.

Chapter Eighteen

The rush of water on my skin was a relief. I closed my eyes and let the shower cool me. I'd be a liar if I said that seeing Leo again hadn't affected me.

 I was a liar. 

Because that's more or less what I'd been telling Andrew for the last two hours. Dinner had been torturous. After Leo left, the tension between Andrew and I was palpable. I wanted dinner over as quickly as possible so we could leave. I ordered the special without bothering to look at the menu but Andrew pretended to agonize over his decision before he settled on his usual, prime rib. Over our meals, he continued to fire questions at me about Leo. 

"How do you really know him?"

"I told you, he helped me with Nicole's birthday last time we were here."

"And?" Andrew said reaching for his wine glass. 

I put my hand out to stop him. "Don't you think you had enough?"

He yanked away. "Don't you dare tell me I've had too much to drink."

It's not like Andrew had a drinking problem. In fact, he rarely drank at all which was a good thing because alcohol had a tendency to make him act like a completely different person and say things he didn't mean. 

Or maybe he did mean them? Either way, he acted like an ass.

"Forget it," I mumbled and took a big bite of my steak. The faster we finished eating, the better. 

"I think there's more to your story," he said and took a healthy gulp of his wine.

"What are you talking about?"

"The guy," he said. "You're not telling me something."

There's no way he could see through me that easily. Besides, even if he did know the truth, it's not like I cheated on him. We were separated. On our way to divorce. He had no room to get mad. 

"There is, isn't there?" Andrew pointed his finger at me. "I bet you slept with him."

I dropped my fork and it clattered against my plate. Trying to avoid his gaze and accusing finger, I took a sip of my water. 

"I'm right." Andrew sounded triumphant and a moment later angry, when he said, "Well, am I?"

"Are you what?"

"Don't play dumb, Lexi. You're not stupid. Tell me the truth. Did you sleep with that guy?"

"Andrew, I don't thin-"

"I think now is a damn good time to tell me who else my wife's been opening her legs to."

Anger shot through me and I worked hard to control my voice as I said, "I'm going to pretend that that was the booze talking and let it go. But if you ever speak to me like that again, you will live to regret it." 

He sat back in his seat as if I'd slapped him, and his face twisted in horror when he realized what he said. 

Drunk enough to say it, but not too drunk to know he'd crossed a line. Perfect.

 "Lex, I'm-"

"I don't want to hear it." And I didn't. I just wanted to get out of here and let Andrew sleep it off before he said something else. Or before I told him the truth. "Let's go."

###

After I signed the bill and got him up to the room I avoided any further conversation by jumping into the shower. I didn't want to deal with Andrew. I couldn't even look at him, let alone talk to him I was so angry. But if I had to be honest with myself, and I might as well be, I wanted, no, needed some time alone to process the whirl of thoughts and emotions at seeing Leo. 

Now, I closed my eyes and let the water run over my face. It had been six years. He hadn't forgotten me. I sucked in a breath. I certainly hadn't forgotten him. The skin on my breasts and abdomen tightened in response to my memories. The way he touched me, the way he kissed me...

Stop! I couldn't let myself remember those things. I was married and he had a wedding ring on too. It certainly hadn't skipped my attention although I purposely hadn't asked about it. I didn't want to know. And it didn't matter anyway. I was here with Andrew. The point of this trip was to fix things. For Ben. 

The water was still too hot; I adjusted the tap so cold water streamed down, cooling my skin and my memory. 

Despite everything, when Leo touched me and held my hand, there was no denying the sparks between us. Andrew had seen them too. I groaned and turned the taps off. I couldn't see him again. It wasn't a good idea. Besides, it was a big hotel, I could avoid him. I had to. 

Grabbing a towel from the rack, I wrapped it around my shivering body and went into the room. Andrew was lying across our bed, fully clothed, snoring. 

Thank God. 

I didn't bother with pajamas and slipped into the other bed, pulling the blankets tight around me. 

There's no point. I can't see him again. 

"I won't see him again," I whispered to myself.

###

I had gone to bed resolute in my decision. I wasn't going to see him again. It was the right thing to do. The responsible thing. Married women weren't supposed to respond to complete strangers the way I had with him. And after almost six years, he was a stranger. So the best thing was never to see him again. Then there wouldn't be any question of appropriate responses.

But my subconscious had different ideas. My dreams were full of visions of Leo. A mixture of past memories and my imagination combined to create vivid images that woke me more than once, my body on fire with the thought of him. 

It doesn't count if I saw him in my dreams. After all, I couldn't control that. 

Right?

So, since I'd already technically seen him in my dreams, it probably wouldn't make a difference if I ran into him by accident. 

At least that's how I reasoned it to myself when I changed into my bathing suit and slipped out of the room at dawn. Andrew was still snoring in our bed, oblivious to everything. Even if I hadn't have been extra quiet, he wouldn't have noticed my absence.

As soon as I pushed through the heavy glass doors leading from the casino to the deck, the difference in atmosphere was distinct. Cut off from the chaos inside, the gardens were an oasis of calm. Later in the day they would transform into a wet dance party. But for now, it was serene. It was only 6:30 but the air was already thick with heat as the sun worked its way up in the sky. The water would be a welcome relief.

There was only one other swimmer working his way across the pool with clean easy strokes. I took the lane next to him.

I didn't have goggles with me or even a proper suit for swimming laps. It had been years since I'd swam seriously so I hadn't bothered to pack anything. The green bikini I was wearing was a gift from Nicole last summer when we went to the lake for a weekend. She was still on her never ending quest to get me into something sexier than my black tank suit. I'd only worn it the one weekend, but this trip seemed like a good time to bring it out. 

Conscious of my skimpy bikini, I sat on the edge of the tiles and slid into the cool water instead of diving as I once would have. I pointed my hands over my head and pushed off the wall with my feet.

I rocketed through the water and when I broke the surface, slipped into my old rhythm of front crawl. It felt good. More than good. The water streaming past my body, the slight burn of my muscles as they stretched and pulled, made me feel alive. Like I had finally woken up. At some point, I passed the other swimmer, approached the end, seamlessly took a breath, tucked under and executed a perfect flip turn, pushing off the wall. 

I still had it.

How could I have ever given this up? I swam throughout my pregnancy because when I floated, I felt weightless and it gave my back a break from the heaviness in my belly. But after Ben was born, there was never any time to get to the pool. Andrew didn't like to be left alone with the baby. He said he didn't trust himself, that he wasn't good at the dad thing. And when Ben got older, life got busier. Somehow, swimming, like most things, took a back seat.

With every stroke I took, I increased my speed. As I approached the far wall, I took a deep breath preparing myself and dove under for the flip. But there was a body standing where I planned to make contact. In a rush of air, I  blew out hard and bubbles spewed from my mouth. I pulled up and broke the surface coughing and spitting, directly in front of the man standing in my lane. 

Leo.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to get in your way. Are you okay?"

"What are...what are you doing here?" I finished coughing and wiped the water from my eyes. 

"I was swimming," he said with a glint in his eyes. 

Of course he was; I knew he'd be here. Wasn't that the reason I'd come down to the pool this morning? I was hoping he would remember. And he had. Only I didn't expect him to be in the water let alone standing inches in front of me, naked from the waist up with drops streaming from his hard chest. 

If time had affected his body, it was only for the better. The urge to run my hands across his stomach filled me. How was it possible that after six years he could look better than ever, while I...I crossed my arms over my exposed stomach. 

I shook my head in an effort to focus. "I can see that," I said. "What I meant was, why are you swimming?" 

"I swim every morning." It was stupid but I was disappointed. I wanted him to be there because of me. It must have shown on my face because he added, "For the last six years. I guess you could say that you inspired me."

"Really?" 

He nodded. "I rarely miss a day. It helps me relax, and there's something about the water, it clears my head, puts everything into focus. Especially when I have a lot to think about." His eyes caught mine and wouldn't allow me to look away. Not that I wanted to.

"I know exactly what you mean," I said. "I've missed it."

"Missed it? You don't swim anymore? You told me once that you swam every day. It was important to you." 

He remembered. The water between us heated up. The proximity of his bare chest stirred a conflict of emotions within me and I became very aware of the tiny bikini I was wearing. I wanted to reach out and touch him, feel his skin under my fingers. At the same time, I wanted to dive under the water and swim away from him and the swirl of feelings I was having. 

"How do you remember that?" I asked.

"Lexi," Leo's voice dipped low. "I remember everything."

What was I supposed to say to that? We stood there, facing each other, not speaking, for a few minutes. A warm breeze floated across the water and I shivered. 

"You're cold," Leo said. He moved toward me, like he was going to wrap his arms around me to keep me warm. I wanted him to. Despite myself, my body yearned to be held by him. He wasn't the only one who remembered everything. 

I took two steps back and said, "No. I'm fine." 

Leo moved back against the wall and I wanted to yank him back towards me. With the distance between us, I did feel a little cold. 

"You didn't answer me," he said. "Do you still swim everyday?"

"I don't actually," I said. "I was just thinking about how good it felt to be back in the pool after all these years."

"Why did you stop?"

I opened my mouth to tell him about Ben, the business of motherhood, how life changed and time seemed to slip away. Instead I said, "Things change." I looked down, uncrossed my arms and skimmed my hands across the surface of the water. 

"They don't change that much," he said. Something in his voice made me jerk my head up to look at him. His dark features formed what I thought was a frown before morphing into a grin. It happened so fast, I couldn't be sure I'd seen the sad look at all. "That would explain the suit," he said. His eyes assessed me and my skin burned under his gaze. 

"What's wrong with my bathing suit?" 

"Nothing," he said holding his hands up in defense. "It's quite nice, but not really what I'd call a typical lap swimming suit."