Chapter Thirty-Two
Kya
I was relieved when I dropped into the cab's backseat. My head was still spinning from Fenton's kiss. The driver told me there was traffic and it would be longer than expected. I nodded and leaned back, fully expecting to enjoy the peace and quiet. I needed to think; I needed to get my balance back.
"In town for business or pleasure?" the cab driver asked.
"Business," I said. His casual question started my mind racing around the real problem I was having separating the two things.
"Really? That's too bad. Unless you like your work. I love my work," he said.
"Do you like living in Vegas?" I asked.
He nodded into the rearview mirror but did not accept my change of subject. "What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a sports agent. I help athletes get endorsement deals and connect brands with sports representation," I said.
"Well, we got all kinds of athletes here," the cab driver said. "Just this morning I've had two basketball players, a boxer, and a Kung Fu master. Can you believe that? Bet this town is good for your business."
"Yes, my thoughts exactly," I said. "I'm thinking of moving here. Or at least, staying for a while." It still felt crazy to say it out loud and I always braced myself for other people to laugh.
"You'll love it," he said. "Who are you here to sign?"
"Fenton Morris, the martial arts fighter. Do you know him?" I asked.
"Do I know him?" The cab driver gestured to one of Fenton's billboards. "Though, he sounds like a rough customer. Got a real reputation, that one. A nice girl like you would do better with the tennis players or the golfers. Or how about the video gamers? Everyone says it’s like an up and coming sport."
I shook my head. Fenton's reputation seemed like its own entity. Would I have to date it, too? I held my breath. Was I dating Fenton Morris? We had never really talked about it. His jealousy made us seem exclusive, but he did have a reputation to maintain. What would people say if they knew he was dating someone like me?
"So you like those martial arts fights? All the blood? You don't strike me as that kind of girl," the cab driver said.
"Then, I guess I'd surprise you," I said. Maybe my reputation was the greater hindrance. I always thought it helped me with work, but I was sick of it. It was time for a change. I promised myself that Jackson McRay would be the first client I landed as myself, not some prim and proper projection of what the other person wanted.
With that thought bolstering my courage, I sprang from the cab and stopped in shock. Jackson McRay had beaten me to the restaurant, and he was arm in arm with Dana Maria. More than arm in arm, his hand trailed along her neck and dipped down the front of her revealing sea-foam dress. I could not read her expression, but Jackson's smile was predatory.
"Sorry if I'm late," I said. "There was a lot of traffic on the Strip."
Jackson stepped in front of Dana Maria, giving her his back and not looking around again. "There's my beautiful date. I have been waiting, but it was worth it."
I sidestepped his charming smile and greeted Fenton's sister. "Nice to see you again, Dana Maria."
"I'm not checking up on you if that's what you think," she said. "I have a private gig in the adjoining hotel and your friend here snagged me as I walked past."
"Private gig?" I asked.
"Yes," Dana Maria tossed her hair. "I dance for private parties, bachelor nights, and whatever. There's good money in it and I stick to the high-end hotels where everything is on the up and up."
"Alone? Does Fenton know?" I asked.
"Look, hun, I'm a professional and, despite you turning your nose up at me, I love what I do. Fenton knows and he's proud of me for making my own way in the world," Dana Maria said.
"No, I just meant, I wanted to make sure it was safe for you. Fenton would not like you going into a bachelor party alone," I said.
She sniffed at me. "I got a bodyguard, but I can take care of myself. Better hope you can say the same thing," she said. She gave Jackson's back a sharp look and then turned on her platform heels. A burly man appeared from the hallway and followed her to the elevators.
"Don't worry," Jackson said. "I'll look out for you."
I took his arm. The maître d' escorted us directly to our table, where Jackson held out my chair for me. I thanked him, but could not get Dana Maria's look out of my mind.
"I ordered a bottle of wine while I was waiting. I hope that's alright," Jackson said. "You just relax and start on your glass while I order us dinner."
I nodded, but wondered what he would say if I disagreed. Jackson seemed gracious and well-mannered, but he liked to have things a certain way. I had a feeling that everything in his world fit the way he wanted it to or it did not stick around for long.
Still, he made delicious choices and I was not discontent.
He smiled as I enjoyed my first long sip of the wine. "It is so nice to meet someone with the same tastes, isn't it?" he asked.
"Well, I can't complain about the wine," I said.
"You would have chosen a different entree?" Jackson asked. "I chose the salmon because it consistently gets the highest reviews. I just thought it was best to go with the best."
"Of course. I would have done the same," I agreed. I was just being silly. Jackson was courteous not controlling. I was just thrown by the vast differences between him and Fenton.
"See," he smiled. "Great minds think alike. That's why I believe we can finish our business before the first course."
"Well, I already put out calls to a few of our clients, but the one I think is the best fit for you is Precision Tools. It’s another long-term, brand-loyalty contract like the vitamin supplements. I liked the idea of you choosing the right club and incorporating that into choosing the right tool for the job," I said.
"See? Perfect," he said. "Let's do that. You're really good at your job, Kya. Do you see yourself at it for a long time to come?"
I sipped my wine and tried to come up with a succinct answer. Until 24 hours ago, I would have been able to tell him my entire life plan. Now, it was all up in the air. I smiled. "I'm going to get off the road, find a base, and see where it goes from there."
He nodded. "I can see you settled down. I imagine you'll do well. Then, you'll join a good country club and some lucky man will snap you up right away."
"Is that what you see for yourself?" I asked. "Retiring to hold court at your favorite country club and find yourself a lovely queen?"
"Then, a big white house with a yard, a vacation home, and a few good years of enjoying it all before the kids come along," Jackson said. "Sounds perfect, doesn't it? I told you that great minds think alike."
He plucked my hand from the white linen tablecloth and brushed his thumb gently across the back of my knuckles. I had to admit that Jackson McRay was very attractive. A few women around the restaurant were watching us with barely contained jealousy. I did feel a thrill at the easy and comfortable life he had outlined.
The only problem was he was not Fenton. I pulled my hand back. "It's a bit expected," I said. "I wouldn't want you to think I was boring."
Jackson's lips curled in an appreciative smile. "You're right. I do like a girl who needs to be chased. So tell me, Kya, what kind of wild future do you see for yourself?"
I sipped my wine. "I'm going to try Las Vegas for a while. It makes the most sense for my business. So, there goes my country club plans. I might have to take up gambling," I said.
"Or martial arts?" he asked. His smile disappeared and he reached for his wine.
"Who knows," I said. "There are lots of hobbies I haven't tried yet. I think it’s kind of fun to takes things as they come. I mean, don't get me wrong. I had outlined the exact life you described, but now I think I should see what happens instead of trying to make it happen. Does that make sense?"
"No," he said. He took my hand again. "It makes sense that you want to cut loose and try on the world for size. But only for a little while, Kya. You're smart, you're practical, and you know the best course for your life to take. Once you're on that course and your momentum really gets going, it can feel a little scary. That's why you should find someone with your same tastes to guide you back when the time comes."
"You don't think I can take care of myself?" I asked. The words echoed what Dana Maria had said earlier.
"It’s not that. I just don't want you to wake up one morning lost. Having a goal keeps you on track."
I had to agree. Having solid goals was the only thing that kept me from falling apart when my parents passed away. "I know. I agree. I'm just not sure my end goal is a big white house. Lots of people work toward the goal of being happy and securing their future without mapping out every step."
"Like your fighter?"
"You can't possibly think of Fenton Morris as unfocused," I said.
"Then how about impetus?" Jackson asked. "He can certainly be all over the map with what he does and what he wants."
"I don't know if I agree," I said. "Both he and his sister are very driven. They might not have the house picked out, but I bet they are both working toward the same kind of security that you are describing."
Jackson snorted. "What I'm describing is worlds away from what a stripper saves her money for. You think she's going to earn enough to appear in polite society?"
"I don't think Dana Maria is interested in polite society. She knows exactly who she is and doesn't care what other people say."
"But you do," he said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be testing out this idea of staying in Vegas on every person you meet."
"I might not have Dana Maria's confidence, but I'm getting there," I said. "That's why I'm not narrowing my options down to the safe path."
"That's not confidence," he disagreed. "That's the long term effect of being stared at by men. She thinks she's in control, she thinks she confident, but she's really just begging for attention."
"You were paying attention to her when I arrived," I said. I swallowed and wished I had the words back.
Jackson laughed and poured himself more wine. "Like I pay attention to the label on a wine bottle. Then, I drink what I want and toss it away. And, trust me, there are better vintages than her."
He smiled and I knew it was supposed to be a compliment. I smiled back and sipped my wine while my skin crawled. Jackson was perfect on the outside – a handsome gentleman, a professional golfer known for his grace under pressure, and a widely coveted and charming date.
He just was not the man for me.