Las Vegas, Nevada…
I sink back into my comfy armchair, exhaling deeply. Alice has settled herself into a pile on my lap and I sneeze as a puff of her fur clings to my nose.
Once again, she’s going to be my celebratory companion for the night. It’s not like I’ve had much time for friends since I’ve been working around the clock this past year. My one and only old friend, Sheila, basically disappeared after she had a baby boy a few months ago.
Lifting my wine glass, I swish around its dark red contents. What exactly am I celebrating tonight anyway?
Kitty Kat Kibble’s best quarter yet?
Successfully avoiding Johnny Jones after our wild sex at the fashion show last week?
I take a sip.
The contented smile on my face droops. It might be better if I don’t think of that at all.
Since it’s the last thing I want to think about, what does my wandering mind get clogged with?
None other than Johnny “Persistent” Jones.
Because he has been, surprisingly so.
I’d left the charity gala early and instructed Diane to deal with the clean-up. I figured it had only been fair since she had contributed all of nothing to the actual planning of it.
That night I’d barricaded myself alone in my condo. I’d rightly convinced myself that what had happened in the dressing room was an unfortunate event.
Another regrettable mistake.
I figured Johnny would leave it at that, having conquered the hot bitch who also happened to be his boss for yet a second time.
Boy, was I wrong.
That very night, Johnny had called me and left a long-winded message. He was clearly drunk, urging me to pick up the phone, to come down to the club and join him.
More calls and texts followed. He’d pulled almost every trick in the book to try to see me. He left messages saying we should meet to discuss upcoming “work events.”
He’d messaged me, worried that I was deathly sick since I wasn’t answering him.
He’d even had Diane contact me with the message that she was to tell me that Johnny needed an immediate response.
Finally, he’d tried apologizing in an awkward three-sentence text.
It had pained me, not responding. But I had done what I had to. Any continuation of that what we did in the dressing room was completely out of the question.
Our business positions prohibited it.
And frankly, our temperaments did too.
Johnny has proven himself to be a conceited, selfish jerk. One who is admittedly capable of temporary civility when it allows him to get what he wants, but that’s about it.
I’m not good with casual friends-with-benefits situations anyway. Or any relationships, if my prior experiences are anything to go by.
While I’m pondering the mess I’m in, my hand burrows deep into Alice’s fur. Her back rises and falls with contented sighs.
So far, I’m handling the situation the best that I can. Dad was surprisingly fine with everything, even after Johnny’s risqué behavior at the fashion show. He’d said the stunt had gotten us more press coverage than the latest superhero movie.
I can’t keep avoiding Johnny. First thing in the morning I’m flying out for the race week.
All eyes will be fixed on Johnny Jones.
Including mine.
My cellphone buzzes beside me on the chair and I glance down at the caller. It’s my sister, Helen.
I drain the rest of my wine. I should probably return her call. I hesitate because calling Helen would just… well, depress me.
As bad of a person this probably makes me, talking to my sister leaves me with less joy than I’d like. She’s basically the Mother Teresa of sisters, which doesn’t help things.
For my birthday last year, she took the two of us to Cancun and insisted on paying for everything. She’s generous, supportive, loving and… annoyingly perfect in every way.
She has a way of rubbing everything in my face so obliviously that I can’t bring myself to point it out to her. Besides, it’s probably also my own insecurities. I barely have friends, let alone a decent date prospect.
Helen has a wonderful, supportive husband. And then her kids, all three of them, are perfectly behaved little darling angels that I can’t help but adore.
On the other hand, I can barely get Alice to come to me when I call her. I would be hopeless and pathetic as a mother of human children. I try not to compare myself to my sister.
Sighing, I carefully sit Alice down from my lap and walk to the kitchen where I pour myself another glass of wine. I turn on my favorite music and settle back down in my chair.
Just about the time my living room gets pleasantly warm and fuzzy, my intercom beeps. I glance at the little white box on the wall, but don’t get up.
I’m sure it’s a mistake.
Probably a pizza delivery guy at the wrong address. Which is too bad because I could scarf down a couple of slices right now.
After a few more seconds, it buzzes insistently again. Frowning, I totter upright and press the flashing button.
“Hey Summer! Surprise! It’s me.”
Johnny?
A long pause.
“Are you there?” he says as if he drops by my place in Las Vegas every day. “I thought I’d surprised you.”
Hearing Johnny’s arrogant voice, my heart leaps and shrinks all at once.
“Johnny? What are you doing back here in Las Vegas? Shouldn’t you be practicing for the next race already?”
“Let me come up and I’ll explain.”
I glance at Alice, who has settled into my spot. She flicks her tail at me knowingly.
“No, that’s not a good idea. I wasn’t expecting you. You should’ve called first.”
“Okay, fine,” he says unconcerned. “You come down then.”
He hangs up without waiting for my answer. Whatever Johnny is doing, I’m not interested. I’m half-drunk and in a silky gown.
I throw another look at Alice, who stretches out a white paw in my direction.
“Yes, I know,” I say. “He won’t leave me alone until I go down there and tell him to go away in person.”
My mind is mentally already swiping through my closet. The intercom buzzes again.
“Alright already!” I exclaim, jamming the button with my thumb. “Hang on!”
Clearly, patience is not one of Johnny’s virtues. Storming to my room, that’s when it occurs to me. What better guarantee of me not going somewhere with him than wearing my very inappropriate nightgown? I should just throw on my matching silk-lined robe to prove the point.
Tossing the robe on, I grab my keys and head out the door.
Sure, this ensemble will probably excite Johnny to no end. But he’ll have to agree I’m not dressed in any state to go out anywhere, and I’m not letting him in.
He should know better than to show up uninvited at my front door and expect me to drop everything.
I’ll even get the front desk attendant in the lobby to help me chase him away if it comes to that.
Downstairs, Johnny is already inside the first set of doors, jabbing at my intercom button every few seconds.
“Stop it!” I tell him. “You’re going to give my cat a heart attack.”
“Why? Don’t you ever have any visitors?” Johnny shoots back.
His jaw drops when he glances at me.
“No complaints from me, but I don’t know if your outfit will work,” he says.
“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” I tell him simply.
His frown darkens his whole face.
“Then why did you come down?”
I gesture to his still intercom-hovering finger.
“You weren’t leaving me alone until I did.”
Surveying me long and admiringly, Johnny shakes his head.
“Actually, you could probably still go in that. It’s perfectly fine with me.”
“Where?” I challenge him. “To your hotel? And shouldn’t you be getting ready for the race?”
“Whoa there,” Johnny says with a smug smile. “There are less pushy ways of asking to come to my hotel room.”
“I’m not,” I tell him. “I’m asking you to go away and let me sleep.”
“At eight o’clock?” Johnny asks, raising a brow. “You’re not much of a party animal, are you?”
It lowers as his face darkens again.
“You’ve probably got company up there, don’t you? That’s why you sent me away, you didn’t want me ruining things.”
“Think whatever you’d like,” I say stiffly. “Just please, go away.”
“What is he?” he asks, peering into my face indignantly. “A banker? A basketball player? Just let me meet him, man to man. I’d like to know what kind of man you date. And so I can beat the shit out of him.”
An embarrassed smile comes over my face as I roll my eyes. Then, leaning in, I lower my voice to a whisper.
“Don’t tell anyone this, but it’s George Clooney.”
He swears under his breath.
“I knew it! That cheating bastard.”
Laughing, I take a step away.
“Seriously though, you have to go. I’m not inviting you up to my place.”
“I’m not asking to go up to your place.”
“What are you asking then?”
“You didn’t even give me time to properly ask you anything,” Johnny says in a hurt voice.
“Johnny…”
“I was going to invite you to come for a ride around the city. That’s all. I have to get up early, so we won’t be out too late, I promise.”
His unexpected visit and answer gives me pause. I don’t know if it’s a great idea to be alone with him.
“I don’t know if I should,” I finally say.
“Neither do I,” Johnny says with a half-shrug. “I just figured what do I have to lose at this point, right? I thought it couldn’t hurt to drop by and see you in person. Where you can’t avoid me.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you,” I burst out, grabbing his hand. “I just thought it was for the best.”
His gaze shoots in surprise to my clasping hand, then my face. I release it.
“Maybe you’re right,” he says slowly. “But what if you’re wrong? Did that ever occur to you?”
As I speak, I avoid looking him straight in the eye.
“Johnny,” I say gently. “There’s no way for this to work out. I’m supposed to be your boss. If the press got wind of this.”
“Who gives a damn what the press thinks! Every other week they think I’m dating someone new. One time they printed I was dating my cousin for heaven’s sake! Answer me this. Do you feel like my boss right now?”
His eyes flash as he peers into my face insistently.
“No,” I manage, twisting away. “And anyway, I don’t think we’re looking for the same things in life. I don’t do well with casual flings and neither of us are in a position to do anything else.”
He shakes his head.
“You got me there, I’ll admit.” He grabs my hand. “But I don’t know about feelings and logic and all that stuff. All I know is, when I spend time with you, even the time you’re being a complete bitch to me, I want to spend more time with you.”
I try to pull my hand out of his and he grips it tighter.
“Look me in the face right now and tell me it’s not the same for you, that you’d rather I leave now and not ever come back.”
My whole body is tensed. Ready for flight. And yet, I can’t seem to form the words to tell him to go away.
“Johnny…” I say with a sigh.
“Go on,” he says, his hand squeezing mine. “I’m listening. Though if you ask me, I think we both know that, twenty years from now, you’d regret not going on the late-night ride with Johnny Jones more than you’d regret going on it.”
His true words pierce me.
How much of my life have I been living in the future, building the company and forsaking my present life?
I have no friends, no social life to speak of. The only thing I look forward to is a week’s summer vacation, when I book a little luxury cabin in the woods for me and Alice.
I’m pathetic.
“Let’s go,” I say with a nod.
And, just like that, hand in hand, we stride out into the cool clear night.
It’s only once I’ve sat down in his car’s leather front seat, that I recall exactly what I’m wearing.
“Damn!”
Johnny chuckles.
“It’s cute when you curse.”
Frowning, I unbuckle my seat belt.
“I need to go back up and change.”
He waves his hand at me and pulls away from the curb.
“Nah, you look hot. Besides, we only have about an hour as it is and you’re not getting out.”
“But I’m basically wearing frilly underwear!”
He nods understandingly.
“Yeah, well you don’t really have to worry about the fashion police when you’re in a car. You’re safe.”
I cross my arms across my chest.
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he adds with a saucy wink.
With a sigh, I buckle up my seatbelt again.
“Fine, but I’m not getting out of the car.”
“Got it,” he says, pressing on the gas pedal.
We roll onto the busy road. No matter what time of day or night it is, the streets of Vegas are always crowded.
“You still haven’t told me why you’re back in Las Vegas and not preparing for the next race,” I say.
“Racing isn’t my whole life,” he says. “I do other things too, you know. Like visit with friends and catch up on old times. I don’t live in a racecar.”
I turn to give him a dubious look.
“You have friends in Vegas? I didn’t realize.”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he says with an easy smile.
Then a thought occurs to me. He didn’t say male friends, he said friends which most likely meant girlfriends.
“So what’s her name?” I ask, trying not to sound snippy.
“Whose name?” he replies.
“Whoever it is you came to Vegas to visit?”
He gives me a curious glance.
“Is that a tiny bit of jealousy I hear? I do believe it is.”
“No, I was just wondering,” I say, contemplating smacking him. “She must be a good friend for you to fly all the way out here to visit.”
He shrugs.
“Used to be,” he says. “Then things kind of went south on us.”
“Oh really?” I say.
“Yeah, it was sad at the time.”
My mood plummets and I turn to look out the window.
“Ah hell!” he says with a sudden laugh. “I can’t do this. I’m not worth a shit when it comes to lying. I don’t have a lady friend in Vegas and am not going to pretend I do. There’s lots of things I’m good at. Lying ain’t one of them.”
Giddy relief washes over me.
“Who is your friend then?” I ask.
“There’s not one. I took a chance and on a wild hair decided to fly out here for a night to see you. I figured the worst thing that could happen would be that you’d refuse to see me. If it went down that way, I’d go buy myself a big steak dinner, have a nice bottle of wine and fly on to Daytona in the morning. All it would cost me was a plane ticket and one night.”
I can’t help but smile though I try to hide it from him.
“That’s a big chance you took there,” I say instead.
“It worked out,” he replies, “because here you are. Sitting beside me in a slinky, see-through gown. Things can’t get much better than that.” He hesitates for a second. “A little bit better maybe if you know what I mean.”
I look down where my robe has gaped open showing my breasts and tug it tighter around me when he laughs again.
“Too late, I’ve already seen the goods. They’re fucking fabulous by the way. The most beautiful set of breasts I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re awful. You do know that, right?”
“Terrible, incorrigible, the worst. All those things. Do you still love me?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh.
“Have you ever even had a girlfriend?” I ask. “A real one? Not a chick you picked up for a one-night stand.”
“Nope,” he says. “Never really seen the need, seeing how I have a constantly replenishing stock of adoring fans.”
“What about before that, though?” I continue. “You weren’t always a famous racecar driver.”
“I don’t know,” he says, frowning when a tiny compact car cuts in front of us on the interstate. “I had a few month-long girlfriends, but nothing serious. Guess I’m not that type of guy.”
Well at least he’s honest. I have to give him that much credit.
After a minute, he says, “What about you? I bet a gorgeous woman like you would’ve had a fair share of boyfriends.”
Blushing at his compliment, I shake my head.
“Not exactly.”
Biting my lip, I swivel to face him.
“I’ve had boyfriends. None that I could call serious.”
“Okay,” he says, “I was just curious.”
“Well, now you know,” I say simply.
I’m grateful for the next few minutes of silence. As much as I enjoy bantering with Johnny, it can be exhausting too. Talking to him is sometimes like running through an obstacle course.
“Aren’t you going to ask when we’re there?” Johnny asks quietly.
“There, where?” I ask. “I thought we were driving aimlessly without a destination.”
Turning to me with lit-up eyes, Johnny says, “That’s not exactly true.”
As his foot digs into the throttle, his fancy rental sports car surges ahead. He talks effortlessly, as if we’re puttering along at thirty miles per hour instead of one hundred.
“We’re in the desert now. One of my driving buddies told me about this old road. It’s rarely used and is perfect for driving fast and free.”
He careens around a tight curve, making it by inches.
“Be careful,” I warn.
“Relax,” he replies. “I know what I’m doing.”
And, as he whizzes around another turn, I can’t help but inwardly admit that he does.
Johnny turns to me.
“Here’s the best part.”
He presses a button on the dashboard and the roof unfurls, exposing us to the elements.
“Johnny!” I cry, laughing as the wind whips my hair up in all directions. “What the hell!”
Laughing himself, he momentarily lifts his hands off the wheel.
“Look Ma, no hands!”
At my scream, he lowers his hands back on the wheel. My own hair lashing in my face, I train my gaze onto the road ahead. Beside me, Johnny is grinning like a kid. I realize I am too. It feels like I’m riding on the wind itself.
Freer than free.
I reach up to grab onto my hair, causing my robe to fall open again.
Johnny glances over then grabs the steering wheel.
“Stop distracting me, you’re going to get us killed! Women, I swear to God!”
Both of us are laughing as I smack him again. Johnny slows down and does a U-turn in the middle of the desert road.
We head back at a slower pace.
Neither of us speaks. As if we’re worried whatever we say will kill the mood.
When Johnny pulls into the parking lot of my building, he gets out of the car with me.
“Wait,” I say softly. “You don’t need to walk me to my door.”
“I won’t try anything, I promise,” he says, an odd look in his eye. “This is Vegas. I’m not going to dump you off in a dark parking garage alone.”
An uncertain quiver goes through me.
“You can walk me to my elevator door,” I finally relent.
He gently takes my hand and we make our way up to my building. Luckily, we don’t run into anyone. Sometimes I forget he’s a celebrity. When he’s with me, he’s just a man I’m attracted to and have fun with, and who hopefully feels the same for me.
At the elevator doors, we pause.
“This is it,” I say slowly.
“Yep,” Johnny says. “This is it. Guess I’d better say goodnight right here in the lobby.”
He throws his arms around me. Holding me tight, he pulls me closer into his muscular chest.
“Thanks for a fun time tonight,” I say. “Again, not what I was expecting, but in the best way possible.”
“Really?” he says, pulling a few inches away. He searches my face with an expression reminiscent of an eager little boy.
“Really,” I say, smiling back.
Another awkward second of us staring and not speaking.
“I should go,” I say, drawing away from those muscular arms that I want nothing more than to stay wrapped up in.
“Okay,” he says with a decided nod, as if reminding himself.
As my finger descends on the UP button, his hand gingerly touches my shoulder.
“Summer?”
“Yes?” I say, turning to him.
“One last thing before I go.”
His gaze burns into mine.
I swallow. My throat is parched and dry. I need to leave, get away. Now. Before it’s too late. But my legs refuse to move.
“What?”
He leans down to kiss me, his lips both giving and firm. His hands firmly grip both sides of my face, perhaps to keep me from running away or maybe to stop themselves from slipping further down my body.
A man’s rapid footsteps sound behind us, hurrying across the marble-tiled lobby floors, and then a loud, “Summer!”