Sinful Reunion (2 page)

“You should have seen your face!” Quinn gushed as she buckled into her aisle seat. Natalie secured her carry-on into the overhead compartment and sat in the aisle seat opposite Quinn. “Honestly you were so precious! They couldn’t have picked a more deserving or appreciative person for the job!”

“Thank you!” Natalie blushed. She was still on cloud nine from the announcement, from seeing her office and imagining how she would start decorating it. She’d already begun scouring Pinterest on her phone for ideas while they waited in the airport terminal.

“And now this trip is officially a celebration, which means…” she looked at Natalie expectantly. “Your first drink is on me and it is champagne!
Whoo!
” Natalie smiled and leaned back in her seat. “Was the raise good?”

“
Very
good.”

“Now you can pay off those student loans! Oh, no, wait,” Quinn teased.

Within an hour the plane had taxied, taken off, landed and disembarked at McCarren. Natalie and Quinn pulled their carry-ons to the terminal drop-off as Quinn paged for an Uber car on her phone. Five minutes later they were secured inside an air conditioned black luxury car, having avoided the long taxi line all together, and were heading for the Strip.

“So what hotel did you book us at?” Natalie asked as she looked out the window at the city as it passed them by.

“Eden. It’s new. It is the very epitome of luxury and elegance. You’re going to love it.”

Eden, it turned out, was more Gatsby than
the garden of
, though there was certainly an element of the forbidden peppered throughout just the lobby itself. There were trees dripping with vines the color of emeralds, lights twisted around the trunks like swirling constellations. Carrera marble floors reflected prismatic rainbows from massive crystal chandeliers, jewels dripping from the ends like golden drops of heavenly water. From the coffers were strung silk butterflies in shades of coral, turquoise, white and gold, a menagerie in the sky. Two grand staircases led up to a swanky bar called
Bidden
where a waitress dressed in sparkling silver fringe served petite glasses of golden champagne from a silver platter, a rich mahogany and marble check-in desk at the base of the twin staircases where hotel employees checked in chicly dressed guests with expensive luggage and enough jewels to start a riot. Bell hops attired in finely tailored black suits looked more like runway models than hotel employees. The female check-in clerks were even more beautiful. They wore their hair in sleek chignons or glossy waves that spilled into the daring necklines of form-fitting black blouses tucked into snug pencil skirts that hugged and dipped over every curve. Sky-high stilettos the color of sapphires punctuated their feet. The sound of their heels clicking and clacking against the marble was that of dancers' feet, tap dancing to an unheard song. She had the sense that at any moment balloons, streamers and confetti would burst from the ceiling and everyone would start dancing in choreographed unison.

Natalie felt out of place in her J Crew button-up shirt, black skinny jeans and Keds, especially next to Quinn, who almost always looked like she’d gotten dressed in Saks Fifth Avenue and had little difficulty looking like she belonged. Natalie's hands made busy work of her deep copper hair, smoothing the tresses back into a modest chignon at the nape of her neck as they waited in the check-in queue. Quinn looked up at the line ahead of them and consulted her watch.

“If we can manage to get up to the room within twenty minutes we have a good window of about an hour to freshen up before we have to jump into a taxi to make our reservation at Pink Taco. Planet Hollywood isn’t too far away. I suppose we could walk but a taxi is so much more civilized. Do you think we should have maybe hired a car?”

Natalie scoffed then laughed at the absurdity of it. To her a taxi was a fancy form of transportation. At least she didn’t have to drive! “I think we’ll be fine.”

It was another five minutes of chatting and people watching before it was their turn at the desk.

“Welcome to Eden,” a woman - she had opted for glossy waves - greeted. Her gold plated nametag bore the name Aria.

“Good evening,” Quinn smiled. “I have a reservation under the name Potter. Quinn Potter.”

“Of course Miss Potter. One moment please.” Even the sound of her fingers typing on the keyboard had a certain air of sophistication, like the sound of heels clicking against marble. “And your guest’s name please?” she asked, looking to Natalie.

“Natalie Harlow.”

“Thank you, Miss Harlow. Miss Potter if I could have a credit card to keep on file for any incidentals, please?”

Quinn slid a platinum colored card across the smooth surface of the desk and Aria accepted it with a cool smile. After swiping the card and typing into the computer system hidden from view within the desk, Aria touched a finger to her ear beneath her cape of hair and said, “This is Aria.”

Natalie glanced sideways at Quinn. She hadn’t even heard a line ring, nor had she seen the girl wearing an earpiece.

“Two guests checking in to 27218. The reservation name is under Quinn Potter. Her guest is Natalie Harlow. Of course.” Aria looked up and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry for the delay, Miss Potter, Miss Harlow. Our Guest Hospitality Director will be with you shortly.”

“Is there a problem?” Quinn asked.

“Not at all,” Aria assured her. “It seems there was an overlap booking that floor. We’ll have you sorted and in a room momentarily.”

A woman dressed in a feminized tuxedo jacket over a slinky black camisole and slacks, a leather-bound iPad in her hand, approached them from Aria’s side of the desk.

“Good evening Miss Potter. Miss Harlow.” She was older than Aria, older than the rest of the girls checking in guests, and she looked like a rock star fresh off the stage. “My name is Alice Packer, I’m the Guest Hospitality Director.” She reached out to Quinn and shook her hand, offering it next to Natalie. “Miss Potter you booked online with us, correct?”

“Yes,” Quinn confirmed.

“We had a last minute group booking that serendipitously occurred at the time you were booking your room, causing a bit of a hiccup in our booking system. I assure you this does not ordinarily happen and we’ve already dispatched our IT specialist to fix the issue to prevent this from happening in the future. If you’d be willing to give up your current booking I’d be happy to place you in one of our suites at no additional charge?”

Quinn picked up her platinum credit card and slid it back into her expensive leather wallet, suppressing a satisfied smile that curled her lips. “That would be fine with me. Natalie?”

Both women looked to her expectantly. She was in awe just being there, suite or no suite. “Uh, sure!”

“Excellent!” Alice opened the leather-bound iPad, tapping and swiping across the smooth glass surface. “Okay I have you in our Tropico Suite. We’d also like to offer you one of our poolside cabanas tomorrow to show our appreciation for your flexibility. Just check in with the pool manager whenever you’d like and she’ll arrange a cabana with full service to you with our compliments. Is there anything else I can do to make your stay more comfortable?”

“Can you arrange for car service to take us to our dinner reservations tonight at Planet Hollywood?” Quinn asked. Natalie rolled her eyes and elbowed her friend in the ribs. “
What?
” she whispered.

“Of course.” Alice smiled. “Or if you could be persuaded to stay a little closer to home tonight, I’d be more than happy to offer you a table at Paradise. It is the gem of Eden and was recently honored with three Michelin stars.”

“Yes, I think we can be persuaded. Don’t you agree, Natalie?”

They were escorted personally to their suite by a tuxedoed bell hop and Alice herself. Alice opened the double-door entrance to the Tropico suite and Natalie nearly expired on the spot. Her eyes went immediately to the massive windows that overlooked the center of the Las Vegas Strip, lights of every color sparkling from the 180 degree panoramic view beyond the glass. Inside the suite was opulent. Overstuffed couches and chairs swathed in black and white striped silk provided ample seating. A chandelier stretched out across a wide expanse of the ceiling like crystal vines wrapped around pinpoints of brilliant light.

“Miss Harlow if you’d like Christopher will show you to your room. Miss Potter if you’ll follow me I’ll show you to yours?”

Quinn, who based on her outward appearance was totally nonplussed by the immaculate suite, followed obediently behind Alice. Natalie followed Christopher as he led her into a room bursting with antique roses in every shade of pink and red imaginable. They were in crystal vases around the room, in the décor, even in tiny gold rosettes dappled along the headboard of the California king bed. Christopher placed her small carry-on on the bed and headed for the door. She reached to hand him a tip but he smiled, politely declining. She circled around the room, touching the ornate finishes in the furniture, the smooth petals of freshly bound roses, and actively holding back her own awestruck surprise.

A phone rang. Instinctively she reached for her pocket before realizing the ringing was not the sound of her cell phone. She looked and found a phone by the bed.

“Hello?” she asked into the receiver.

“I just wanted to let you know that I can call your room from my room,” Quinn quipped, her nonchalance an obvious front.

Natalie‘s breath came out as laughter. “My bedroom is almost as big as my entire apartment.”

“Well having our own rooms certainly frees up a few new opportunities for us!”

“Meaning
what
exactly?” There was no response on the other line. “Quinn? Hello?”

She startled when Quinn appeared in her doorway, a black dress in her hand. “Meaning you should wear this dress to Paradise tonight. And don’t be at all surprised when a man wants to bring you back here to take it off of you.”

“Half of this dress is see-through!” Natalie called out from the closet-fronted entrance to her bathroom.

“Yes, but half of it isn’t!”

Natalie rolled her eyes and looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was simple but deceptively immodest. It was black and sleeveless with a chiffon hi-lo cut bottom that showed her legs from thigh to ankle. The back was nothing but a leather T-strap that crossed at her neck and came down her spine, meeting the opaque fabric mere inches above her waist before it dissipated into diaphanous chiffon again. Though only her arms and back were exposed, she still felt naked and on display.

“Oh wow, that looks fantastic on you!” Quinn gushed as she barged into the room, a bottle of Veuve Clicquot in one hand, two empty champagne flutes in the other. “Here, a little bubbly for you, Miss Junior Vice President!” She set the glasses down and generously poured champagne into each one. “What should we toast to?”

“To unexplored opportunities.” The words came out without thought or consideration. The very same toast she’d suggested to Gentleman Twelve when they were first alone together in the penthouse of The Golden Palm club.

“Yes!” Quinn smiled approvingly. “To unexplored opportunities and us in Vegas, baby. Whoo!” She clinked her glass to Natalie’s and they each took a sip, the chilled champagne going down smoothly. “I think I’ll wear the blue sequined dress tonight. Excuse me,” she dismissed herself, leaving Natalie alone again in her room. She took in her reflection once more and turned sideways to watch the chiffon
swish
around her bare legs, and moved her shoulder so she could see how her back looked and if it exposed too much. Even she had to admit it: she looked good.

Paradise was what she’d imagine the Garden of Eden would look like if she were tripping on acid. While garden-themed in general, the interior colors were in surreal shades of green, pink and red that were almost neon in their vibrancy. When Quinn checked for a reservation under her name they were escorted to a table with high-backed leather seating in the direct center of the room. Natalie looked up and found a glass ceiling crawling with rose vines, the light-polluted desert sky clearly visible above. Once she was seated she consulted her menu and tried not to visibly gawk over the incredibly high prices when their waiter appeared.

“Good evening, ladies. Welcome to Paradise. My name is James.” At the sound of his name Natalie looked up, her menu forgotten, her memories of that reignited.
It couldn’t be…

It wasn’t. This James was a blonde Abercrombie model with a toothy grin who looked like he belonged on a surfboard more than he did in a fancy restaurant.

“Can I start you with any drinks?” he asked, his smile brightening as his eyes fell on Quinn, who looked positively stunning in her blue sequined cocktail dress. She seemed not to notice his favor.

“I think I’ll stick with champagne tonight,” she confirmed with a smile.

“And for you?”

Natalie nodded. “Champagne for me as well, please.”

“Excellent.” James went over the evening specials with them, highlighting his personal favorites, notes on taste and what wines and desserts would pair well with which entrée, and then disappeared once they each ordered.

Quinn took the lead on conversation, which Natalie was only too happy to let her do for it afforded her the opportunity to surreptitiously people-watch as she sipped champagne and dined on filet mignon and petite vegetables arranged artfully on her plate.

So far between the flight, the room upgrade and the divine food of Paradise, it had been the kind of Vegas experience Natalie had only previously dreamed of having. She had never been keen on gambling or seeing shows where men painted their face blue and banged on drums, or stripped until they were in nothing more than butt cheek-bearing thongs. She appreciated the glamorous side of Vegas much more than she did the let’s-get-drunk-and-party side.

James the Waiter appeared sometime mid-bite holding an enormously extravagant bottle that looked like it was carved out of metal.

“Ladies,” he smiled, holding the bottle label-side out. “Moët & Chandon Dom Perignon White Gold. Compliments of your secret admirer.” He poured for each of them in a brand new glass, the bottle sparkling prettily beneath the light of the restaurant.

Natalie was astounded. The bottle had to be a few grand
at least
, depending on the year. She looked around the crowded restaurant, searching for the sight of their supposed secret admirer, but saw no one who stood out.

When James left Natalie caught Quinn’s attention. “Does this sort of thing happen to you often?”

“Free drinks? Yes.” Quinn took a slow sip of the uber-expensive champagne and smiled contentedly. “Free champagne that costs more than a Chanel purse? Never. But isn’t it nice?”

“You aren’t at all suspicious?”

“No!” Quinn scoffed. “Look at us. We’re two beautiful ladies dining in this exclusive, luxurious restaurant in one of the finest hotels in Vegas. Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

Natalie picked up her clutch and retrieved her phone from inside, pushing the home button to check the time on the screen. It was barely ten.

“So where to next?” Quinn asked, leaning over the check the time on the screen. “It’s still so early! There’s a fun Irish pub at New York New York with a live band and a girl that comes out and actually does a Riverdance!”

“Maybe we could just stay here and relax? It’s so beautiful.” Natalie looked around the room, noticing for the first time there were fake trees ten feet tall scattered about the room filled with twinkling lights and plump red pomegranates. One tree had a bright yellow snake painted around its trunk, the serpent’s mouth open and hissing a foot above a dining patron’s head.

“If you want to stay here we should definitely check out their bar-slash-lounge-slash-club. I think it’s called Serpentine?”

Of course it is!
Natalie mused to herself. As glamorous as Eden was it certainly was very-Vegas throughout, doing justice to a theme rich with imagery.

“Did I hear you ladies say you were heading to Serpentine next?” James the Waiter asked when he reappeared at their table not a moment later. “If you’d like I can arrange for your drinks to be brought to a table for you?”

“Yes, we’d like that very much!”

The Serpentine Lounge looked like a forest whose biggest tree had toppled over, sprouted a bar from deep within the rings of wood itself, and grew a gothic ballroom around it. Black lacquer sconces equally spaced across the red and brocade walls cast a light that Natalie could only describe as candlelight on blood. Skimpily clad wait staff dressed like Adam and Eve snaked their way through the room, taking and delivering orders while flirting with the guests. Signage at the entrance indicated it was
Ladies Night
, and that all men in attendance were required to wear black masks provided by Serpentine staff.

Quinn and Natalie followed a masked Adam to a reserved table just outside a roped-off VIP section. The other tables around them were filled with beautiful people in gorgeous clothes that covered little more than their own modesty, or what modesty they came there with.

Men everywhere were in identical black masks that hid all but their eyes and mouths, the ambient lighting darkening or hiding the rest. Around them music throbbed, the base pounding like their collective heartbeats against the walls and floors. Women dressed in what Quinn would have referred to as their ‘sluttiest’ danced in pairs or groups, drinks in hand, bodies moving strategically to attract the most amount of attention from the opposite sex.

“I love this place!” Quinn shouted over the music, her hands in the air as her body swayed back and forth to the beat. She shouted something else but Natalie couldn’t make out the words over the loud music. Places like Serpentine weren’t designed to encourage engaging conversation. So she leaned back in her seat and sipped from her glass of champagne, watching the roomful attractive people.

She spotted more than one couple dancing far more suggestively than that of the general population. The way they moved, legs intertwining, bodies pressed so close together, it was like watching foreplay. She couldn’t take her eyes off of them.

‘Have you always liked to watch?’
The twelfth man’s voice came unbidden from her memory, his words like the touch of the sun to her skin.
Go away!
It was like exerting physical effort to remove Gentleman Twelve from her mind’s eye.

“Why are you making that face?” Quinn shouted so close to Natalie’s ear it startled her. “You’re overthinking something. I can tell. Just sip more champagne and try to remember that you are on vacation, Natalie Harlow! Have some fun!!”

“You’re right.” Natalie downed the half-full glass of champagne at her fingertips and smiled when the fuzzy bubbles started behind her nose and eyes. “Fuck it. Let’s dance!”

“All right that’s my girl!!
Whoo!
”

She danced. She drank. She took a hit off a stranger’s cigarette and managed not to cough. She gave in to abandon. The more she drank, the less she cared about what she looked like dancing in full view of the public. Drink and song made her mind free and her body pliable, and she enjoyed every minute of it. She lost count of how many cocktails she’d had once she switched from champagne. She sipped from a water bottle and ate the leftover ice chips in one drink while Quinn ordered her a new one from an Adam. Whatever her hangover status was destined to be the following morning she did not care. For the first time in five months she was free.

Sometime after 1:00AM they’d been invited beyond the roped threshold of the VIP section where the alcohol flowed freely and bodies bumped against one another as the DJ played on into the night. She casually flirted with a masked man who wore a white tee shirt that could have either been a ridiculously expensive designer version or something cheap from Target, fitted jeans and designer tennis shoes that seemed to glow neon even the club’s ambient lighting. His hair was a dark controlled mess on his head, and the mask he wore only seemed to highlight the chiseled cut of his jawline and deep eyes. She could barely hear him over the music so she stuck to smiling instead, occasionally brushing a shoulder or hand against him in time to the music.

Quinn took one of Natalie’s hands and danced with her as the masked man watched them, keeping in time to the music.

“He’s hot,” Quinn loudly spoke into Natalie’s ear. There was a definite tone of approval, even in spite of the roaring sounds around them.

“Oh good, so it’s not just the alcohol then?” Natalie laughed, glancing at the man before returning her gaze to Quinn. “Sometimes you can’t be sure! He could be totally hot in the mask and then a dog once he takes it off!”

Quinn shrugged nonchalantly. “So fuck him with the mask on. As long as he’s got a decent body, who cares?”

Natalie rolled her eyes but laughed, turning her attention back to the man and dancing as close to him as she dared. When the music changed, the collective mood did, too. The DJ had gone from heart pounding dance to something with a bit more soul, and Natalie found herself moving her hips suggestively to the beat. The masked man’s hands went to her hips but she didn’t protest. She could feel him against her, his movements matching her own. She slid her palms over his hands then turned in his embrace, hips-to-hips as they moved.

It was exhilarating to be so careless with a man, even a stranger in a mask. His body moved suggestively against hers and she reciprocated, grinding on him, hands on his arms, fingertips appreciating the fine muscles that moved beneath his taut skin.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he yelled in her ear, the stubble on his chin scratching at her face.

“So do you!” she yelled back, smiling widely, her eyes hazy with drink. Something in his countenance – his obvious confidence or maybe the little smirk that perked at his lips – reminded her of the twelfth man, though he was far more put together and less
college bro
. Still, her body responded to him as they moved, their dance a delicious foreplay with the promise of more.

“All right, Miss Junior VP,” Quinn shouted from behind Natalie, her arm snaking around to Natalie’s front, a shot glass filled with brown liquor in her hand. “Time for a shot. And you,” she held a lime out to the masked man, who took it between his teeth and held it there. “Bottoms up!”

Natalie took the shot glass and downed it in one swallow, and then reached up and took the lime from the man’s mouth, her lips brushing against his. She bit down on the fruit and puckered involuntarily, spitting it into the now-empty shot glass and laughing along with them.

“Good girl,” the man encouraged her.

Without thinking, without consideration, she picked up her feet on her toes and kissed him, her hands smoothing over his cotton-covered chest to feel his body beneath. He smiled when they parted, his hands on her waist as she turned and resumed dancing, bumping and grinding her backside into his front. Quinn smiled approvingly before taking a shot herself, winking at Natalie before she turned and sought the attention of the Adam who’d been serving her all night.

Natalie was just drunk enough to want her masked partner, and his strong, smooth hands were an encouragement to her senses. She’d had a one-night stand before, she could easily do it in Sin City. When the music changed again she turned in his arms and managed her best smile.

“Wanna come upstairs?”