Kitabı oku: «Shirley Valentine Goes to Vegas»
Shirley Valentine Goes to Vegas
MICHELLE BETHAM
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
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HarperImpulse an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers
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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015
Copyright © Michelle Betham 2015
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015
Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
Michelle Betham asserts the moral right
to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International
and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
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written permission of HarperCollins.
Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.
Ebook Edition © August 2015 ISBN: 9780008119430
Version 2015-08-24
For everyone who believes in a little bit of fate…
And to Helen at Indigo Rose, thank you, for giving me the tattoo of my dreams.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Also by Michelle Betham …
About the Author
About HarperImpulse
About the Publisher
Prologue
Dragging the suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe I threw it onto the bed, standing back as it hit the mattress with a resounding thud. For a couple of seconds I just looked at it as if, all of a sudden, I’d temporarily forgotten just what the hell it was I was doing. Was that deliberate? Was that actually my own subconscious giving me a little bit more time to think about everything? To make sure this really was the right thing to do?
Leaning back against the wall, I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply. My heart was still beatingfast, pounding away inside my chest as I tried to shut out the noise drifting up from the party going on downstairs: a party I should be getting back to. But I couldn’t. Not now.
‘… this is just something she needs to get out of her system…’
His words were playing over and over in my head like some never-ending record I couldn’t switch off.
‘She loves me, and she knows I need her to do certain things if this is going to work a second time…’
Yeah. I loved him. But did I love him enough? Enough to strip myself of everything I’d fought so hard to become?
I slowly opened my eyes, taking another deep breath, my gaze falling back on the empty suitcase.
‘Lana?’
I swung around so quickly I almost lost my balance, my breath catching in my throat as I saw him standing there.
‘What’s going on?’
‘I’m leaving, Adam.’ I’d thought my resolve would weaken the second I saw him, but I was obviously stronger than I thought I was. ‘And this time, I’m not coming back.’
1
My brother, Finn, slid something a rather startling shade of orange towards me.
‘What’s that?’ I asked, eyeing the drink warily.
‘A cocktail.’
I threw him a withering look. ‘Yeah. I can see that. It’s what’s in it that’s bothering me. What is in it?’
He shrugged. ‘No idea. Just thought you might like one, you know, you being a woman and all that.’
My withering look turned into a wide-eyed stare. ‘Seriously?’
He shrugged, a look of mock innocence on his face.
‘When have you ever known me to drink cocktails, Finn? When?’
‘Just get it down you. Might help you loosen up a bit.’
I loved Finn. I loved him a lot, despite his knack of being able to wind me up at a moment’s notice. But he’d always been able to do that, right from when we’d been kids and he’d realised how easily I could be sucked in.
At thirty-five years old Finn was four years younger than me. And with his short, dark, messed-up hair, a multitude of tattoos that adorned his entire body, and a black and red Ducati Multistrada that I was extremely jealous of, he was handsome in that rough, edgy, rock-star kind of way – a bit of a cross between a younger version of Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler and The Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl – which meant he was never short of female attention. And the fact he was also one of the most reputable tattoo artists in the north-east of England didn’t do him any harm, either. His studio – Black Ink – sawpeople travel to Newcastle-upon-Tyne from as far afield as Cumbria, north Yorkshire, and even Scotland,to be ‘inked’ by my brother. I was incredibly proud of him. Even more so after everything he’d done for me over the past twelve months. He’d been my rock. The best friend I could have asked for. Because the past twelve months had seen my life change in a way I could never have anticipated. A year ago I’d walked out on my husband, and left behind the only life I’d known for almost two decades; a decision that hadn’t been an easy one to make, because Adam was a good man. We’d been together almost twenty years, and been married for eighteen of those. I’d thought I’d found my soul mate. But sometimes, even when – or should that be especially when – you’ve been together for as long as we had, people can grow apart. They lose each other. And when neither of them really make that effort to find their way back, well, it stops working. There’s no point any more if the fight has gone.
We’d started wanting different things – or, in my case, things I’d always dreamed of, but thought I could never have. Those things I’d put to the back of my mind whilst I’d concentrated on doing what everybody else wanted me to do, instead of doing things that actually made me happy. I guess I’d just wanted an easy life. But now I considered ‘easy’ to be dull. Now I wanted a bit more excitement. Was that selfish of me? Maybe. But when you know you’re not the person you really want to be, there comes a point when you either accept that this is the way things are always going to be or you realise the stone-cold reality that you only get one life, and you’ve got to go out and live it.That’s exactly what I’d done. I’d moved in with Finn, got to know my brother again, and gradually started putting my life back together. By changing it completely.
‘Can I just have a beer?’ I asked, still warily eyeing the cocktail. ‘I mean, do I look like the kind of woman who’d drink something that colour?’
‘Lana, there were nights when you’d drink anything of any colour, remember? As long as it got the end result you were looking for.’
I couldn’t argue with that. There’d been times when I could have quite easily reached for the mouthwash, but I was past all of that now.
As kids, I’d always been slightly jealous of Finn, of the way he just seemed to know exactly what he wanted to do. His fascination with tattoos had started as a teenager, and after he’d got his first one on his eighteenth birthday that had sealed the deal for him – he knew where his life was going. I’d always been less decisive, finally letting my love of the theatre guide me in the direction of a BTEC in performing arts and an eventual job as a deputy stage manager in a theatre in Newcastle. A job I’d walked out on the same day I’d walked out on Adam. I didn’t do things by halves, that was for sure. But I’d had to cut those ties, leave behind the old so I could start the new. Any remnants of the past would have only held me back.
I’d started hanging out at Black Ink, watching Finn and the guys work, soaking up the atmosphere that I’d never really paid that much attention to before, because I’d never really seen all that much of Finn after I’d married Adam. We’d moved out of Newcastle and settled in north Northumberland, but it wasn’t just distance that had seen me lose touch with my brother. Our worlds became very different, and we’d inevitably drifted apart, coming together only for the obligatory family weddings, birthdays and Christmases.But the more I hung out at Black Ink, the more I began to realise that Finn’s world was where I really felt comfortable. It was the kind of world I wanted to be a part of – a world where people didn’t judge. A world where it was okay to be different. It was the world I’d always dreamt of. I just hadn’t realised it, until now.
So, just a few days after walking out on my marriage, I began putting the wheels of my brand-new life in motion by doing something the old Lana would never have done – I got “inked”. By Finn. Twice. A beautiful tribal design in deep black that covered the underside of my left forearm, and a deep-red rose emerging from a mass of tangled thorns on my upper right arm. Finn had been a little unsure, at first, about being the one to permanently tattoo his once rather straight-laced and conservative sister, but he understood I’d needed to do something drastic to kick-start my new journey. To give my life the complete turnaround it needed. But, looking back, I suppose it had been a bit of a shock for him to see the speed at which I’d turned from wife of one of the region’s top businessmen to tattooed biker chick. It had unnerved me for a day or two, but just two weeks after getting those new tattoos, changing my hair, acquiring a whole new set of friends and an attitude I hadn’t even known I’d had, I’d made another decision. I was truly fascinated by the work my brother and the guys at Black Ink did, but I wanted to play a bigger part than just observing. I needed a new career, something to aim for, and, after talking to Finn and going over the options, the decision was made – Finn was going to take me on as his apprentice. I was going to train to become a tattoo artist. It meant I could stay close to my brother and stay inside that world I’d fallen in love with.
I’d spend hours at the studio watching, in complete awe, as Finn created intricate and beautiful designs on a wide variety of clients, each tattoo different and personal. From deep blacks to colours so vivid they almost jumped off the skin, there was so much beauty in body art, which was why that tattoo Finn had given me on my upper right arm had now turned into a sleeve, covering the skin from the wrist, stretching all the way up over my shoulder. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen – from the multitude of colours that ranged from bright oranges and aqua blues and the rich, dark red of bloodied roses, to the way it snaked across my skin, the designs merging, fading in and out of one another; intertwining, blending. In my eyes, every single inch of it signalled a move forward from a life that had once stifled me, into one that was slowly setting me free. As I’d watched it take shape, felt that needle dig into my skin, it really had felt as though that tattoo was wiping away the past and ushering in my new future. It had taken weeks to complete, but just watching Finn work on it had been an almost cathartic experience.
It was going to take a couple of years before I became a fully qualified tattooist myself, but I woke up every day now just itching to get to work. And I hadn’t felt like that in a long time. The people who came into Black Ink, the heavy rock music that blasted out of speakers placed all around the two floors of the studio; the whole atmosphere of the place – it really did feel as though, somehow, I’d found my spiritual home. It was somewhere I’d always wanted to be but had never had the confidence to seek out before because I’d spent most of my life “settling”. Whilst Adam had been quite happy to let our lives “tick along”, the thought of that going on for years to come had, in the end, terrified me. I hadn’t wanted my life to “tick along” anymore – I wanted to live it and, with Finn’s help, I was getting there.
Even though this weekend in Las Vegas – at one of the biggest tattoo conventions in the world – was something of a busman’s holiday for me, Finn and the rest of the guys from Black Ink, after the year I’d had I was hoping it was going to give me a chance to kick back, cut loose for a little while, even if it was only for a couple of days. The past few months had been exhausting, and though I barely recognised the woman I’d used to be, I still felt as though there was a tiny bit more shaking off to be done. And this weekend, I intended to do a lot of shaking. Right now, I wasn’t totally feeling the Vegas vibe, but I was probably just tired. We’d not long arrived at the hotel, it was late, and it had been a long day.
‘Here. Is this more your kind of thing?’ Finn handed me a bottle of Budweiser.
I smiled at him. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. Now drink your beer, beautiful.’
He always called me beautiful, and I loved him for that, even if he was probably just saying it because I was his sister. I’d just never felt all that comfortable blowing my own trumpet, that was all, so I’d never really thought of myself as beautiful, though Adam had often told me I was. And I suppose I could scrub up pretty well when I put the effort in. I’d managed to keep my long blonde hair in pretty good condition, despite the amount of styling products it had seen over the years, and a good few inches of it, from the bottom up, had been dyed black now, which I loved. My eyes were a bit more grey than blue, but I’d never seen that as a negative. And my body wasn’t looking too bad for a woman hurtling towards middle-age, and by that I mean I could still rock a bikini on holiday as long as I laid off the doughnuts for a couple of weeks beforehand. Or have a complete mid-life meltdown, leave my husband and throw my old life away to head off into the unknown. Both had much the same effect as far as weight loss was concerned.
‘And start enjoying yourself,’ Finn went on. ‘We’re in Vegas, remember?’
I picked up my beer and took a large, probably slightly unladylike, swig.
‘I am enjoying myself,’ I protested, throwing him a look.
He threw one right back. ‘You might want to try telling your face that, then.’
I ignored him, taking another swig of beer. ‘I might have an early night,’ I sighed, running my finger up and down the ice-cold bottle, watching as it left a trail of condensation in its wake.
Finn almost choked on hisown drink. ‘Early night? Do you know where we are?’
I blinked a few times as I looked at him. ‘I’m well aware of where we are, thank you. You keep reminding me every five minutes.’
Finn’s eyes widened as he stared at me. ‘And?’
I frowned. ‘And what?’
‘Where are we?’
‘How many beers have you had?’
‘We’re in Las Vegas,’ Finn went on, completely ignoring my question.
‘Yes, I know we are. I was on that plane this morning, too.’
‘So, people come to Vegas to party.’
‘Do they? All of them?’
‘You’re giving me a headache now.’
‘That’s my job.’ I took another long drink of beer, looking around the busy bar. The music was loud, the atmosphere everything I loved. I just knew I’d love it a whole lot more when I didn’t feel so tired. I was such a lightweight sometimes. I turned back to face my brother. ‘I’m just a bit tired, okay? It’s been a really long day. I’m sure I’ll be much more my usual self after a good night’s sleep.’
‘You’re really having an early night?’ Finn asked, his expression verging on disbelief.
I ran a hand along the back of my neck as I took another look around me. I’d noticed a small group of bikers come in earlier, and they were still there, hanging out in the corner of the bar, dressed in leather and denim with their messed-up hair and unkempt beards. Sexy as hell in my eyes.The fact I found that kind of man sexy now was weird, because my husband had been a clean-shaven businessman who loathed tattoos, hated facial hair and didn’t really trust bikers. Which was why he and Finn had never really been that close. Their two worlds were so far apart it had been hard for them to find any common ground. Another reason why my brother and I had drifted apart.
Secretly, though, I’d always found the idea of a hot, tattooed, bearded, rough-looking bloke on a motorbike incredibly attractive. Even more so since I’d started hanging out with Finn and working at Black Ink. It was just that now I didn’t have to make a secret out of it. And I couldn’t help smiling to myself as I realised that.
‘What’s distracting you?’ Finn asked, frowning slightly as he noticed my expression change.
‘Nothing.’ I quickly tried to lose the smirk, but I wasn’t quick enough.
Finn turned around, looking over at the bikers in the corner, a slow grin spreading across his face. ‘Oh, I get it. Still after that biker boyfriend, huh?’
I didn’t reply. Just took one last drink of beer.
‘I’ve told you, kiddo. Bobby could fix you up with any number of our mates from the club. They all love a hot, inked woman. Have a word with him. I’m sure once we’re home he’ll sort you out.’
I wrinkled my nose up at the thought of Bobby – Finn’s number two at Black Ink – and his biker friends. Lovely guys, but not really the hot-and-handsome type. Their bikes were pretty sexy, though, but that’s where the attraction ended. ‘You’ve somehow managed to make all of that sound slightly sleazy.’ I slid down from my stool and kissed Finn quickly on the cheek. ‘I’m off to bed.’
‘Alone?’
‘You’re hilarious.’
‘Well, you’ve got to pass ‘Sons of Anarchy’ over there on your way out. Who knows what might happen between here and your hotel room.’
‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ I said, acknowledging him only by raising my hand, without looking back. I was too busy concentrating on where I was going as I headed for the door, passing the group of bikers on the way. I was aware of a low whistle coming from their direction as I passed them, and although I didn’t have the nerve to look back and check, I was going to hope it was aimed at me. I’d worked hard to cultivate this biker-babe image. It’d be nice to get some appreciation from the men who mattered. But as I finally headed out of the bar, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck suddenly stand on end, the weirdest feeling washing over me. I wasn’t sure where that had come from, or why it had happened, but as the loud music and the party atmosphere still emanating from the bar surrounded me, I suddenly began to feel the Vegas vibe kick in. Big time. And I smiled to myself again. Yeah. I was going to be so ready for this weekend after a good night’s sleep. I mean, this was Vegas! And I might only be here for a couple of days, but who knew what could happen in that time? I just had no idea that what was about to happen was going to shake my life up even more – in ways I couldn’t begin to imagine…
2
‘This place is crazy!’ I gasped, turning right around on the heels of my Harley Davidson biker boots, taking in the huge space filled with people sporting all manner of tattoos, every colour of the rainbow, every shade of black and grey adorning bodies both male and female. There were booths and stalls set out all around the vast area given over to this convention; I could even see places where you could get a brand-new tattoo right there and then, and I was tempted. Wildly oversized TV screens were also everywhere you looked, all of them show-casing the very best the world of ink had to offer. I felt like I’d come home. And, as expected, the Vegas vibe was really kicking in now. A good night’s sleep had seen to that.
‘I still can’t believe you and Adam never came here. To Vegas.’ Finn stuck his hands into the pockets of his skinny black jeans as he followed me further into the room. ‘You seem to have been everywhere else on the planet.’
‘He was never that keen,’ I said, still trying to take in everything that was going on around me. ‘And when you’re married you tend to compromise on things like holidays. Not that you’d know anything about that.’ I threw my brother a half-smile.He just pulled a face.
‘Why would I want to get married, huh? And disappoint the female population of the north-east of England?’
‘Yeah. You keep telling yourself that.’
He winked at me. I just rolled my eyes. ‘Anyway, sis, if you’re talking compromise, then surely he could’ve suffered Vegas for a couple of days? For you?’
‘Not seeing Vegas was a sacrifice I was willing to make, Finn. Because Adam and me, we visited so many other amazing places together. Just, not this amazing place.’ I let my mind briefly jump back in time, to those holidays Adam and I had shared, before things had started to go stale. Stagnate. Before we’d started to drift apart, and a little piece of me felt sad that we hadn’t been able to cling onto those times, because we’d been so happy. Once.
‘Why did you marry him, Lana?’
I turned to face my brother, cocking my head and frowning slightly. That was a question I hadn’t been expecting. ‘I loved him, Finn. And things weren’t always as bad as they ended up being.’
‘I never really took to him,’ Finn sniffed, sliding his arm across my shoulders as we ventured further into the room. ‘I mean, he’s like Mister Straight-Laced businessman, all clean-shaven and well-spoken. And then there’s you.’
I stood still, folding my arms and fixing Finn with a look that almost dared him to say something he might regret. But I couldn’t help smiling, so the stern edge had been slightly lost there. And what he was saying was largely true anyway – Adam was a bit straight-laced, always smartly dressed, and always clean-shaven, even at weekends. And his accent was a touch milder than mine, with him hailing from rural Northumberland rather than the heart of Newcastle. But it wasn’t like he’d been brought up in Downtown bloody Abbey.
‘Then there’s you…’ Finn carried on, grinning just a touch too widely for my liking, ‘… with your black-dipped blonde hair and all those tattoos.’
I didn’t say anything to that, my gaze suddenly dropping to the floor.
Finn tilted my chin up so I was looking at him. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘The divorce. It came through, just before we flew out here.’
Finn ran a hand through his hair, throwing his head back and sighing heavily. ‘Jesus, Lana, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’
I shrugged. ‘I didn’t really want to talk about it. Anyway, it’s over now. Time to put it completely behind me, once and for all.’ I slipped my hand into his, smiling again as I stood up on tiptoes to kiss him quickly. ‘And anyway, before I started hanging out with you I was Miss Ordinary, remember? This hair and these tattoos, they were non-existent until my marriage started to break down. Until I finally threw off those shackles of normality and joined the freak show that is your world.’
He smiled at me, slipping his arm back around my shoulders and squeezing them tight. ‘Yeah. And now there’s no escaping the dark side.’
‘I quite like the dark side.’ I hugged his waist, leaning in against him as we walked. ‘Daylight scares me.’
‘Weirdo.’
‘I learned from the best.’
‘Yeah. And don’t ever forget that. Come on.’ He took my hand, pulling me towards a stand that was manned by one of his heroes – a legendary Vegas-based tattoo artist from whom Finn had gained a lot of inspiration due to his edgy designs and use of colour. Finn’s tattoo studio back home had a bit of a reputation for cutting-edge ink itself, and it was something he prided himself on, which was why so many people made that special journey to be “inked” by Finn Black and why I was so excited to be serving my apprenticeship under him. He was an incredible teacher. An amazing tattooist. The best brother I could have asked for, at a time when I really needed one.
‘Do they do drinks in here?’ I gasped, out of breath at trying to keep up with Finn’s brisk pace.
‘And she’s back.’ Finn pulled a few dollars from the back pocket of his jeans. ‘The bar’s just out there. Get me a beer, will you?’
‘What did your last slave die of?’
He threw me a wink. ‘I don’t have slaves, kiddo. I have willing participants.’
I couldn’t help smiling at him, rolling my eyes again before I turned and made my way across the crowded space in search of the bar. Catching sight of it, I pushed my way through the maze of people, almost throwing myself against the counter with relief as I ordered a couple of beers.
‘That’s not a local accent.’
I heard the voice coming from right beside me, but I didn’t know whether that comment had been aimed at me or not, so I kept my attention focused on the barman, watching as he flipped the lids off the beer, setting the bottles down on the counter in front of me.
‘Newcastle-upon-Tyne, north-east England. Am I right?’
I paid for the drinks and slowly turned to face the person to whom the voice belonged. And that’s when the same strange feeling I’d experienced last night as I’d left the bar hit me again, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I was rendered speechless for a second or two, which was quite unlike me. But I just couldn’t take my eyes off the man standing beside me. And I wasn’t entirely sure how I could describe him, because he wasn’t exactly handsome in the conventional sense of the word – he was no clean-shaven pretty boy, that’s for sure. Quite the opposite. But he was attractive on a whole other level. A sexy-as-hell, rough-edged kind of way. He had the most beautiful, dark, almost black, eyes. I knew that much. Eyes that seemed to verge on dangerous, which for some reason just made him even hotter. His hair was a dark brown, but greying slightly at the roots, so that gave me some indication as to his age, as did the colour of his goatee beard and moustache – a lighter brown streaked with grey. I was guessing mid- to late-forties. But he looked good on it. He looked really good. And he was tall. That was always a bonus. Then I suddenly realised I was quite obviously staring and immediately looked down at the ground, feeling a touch embarrassed. I didn’t normally do that kind of thing. Ever. I’d just had the weirdest feeling that I’d seen him somewhere before. But, surely, if I had, I’d have remembered him?
Swallowing down my surprise – and my slight embarrassment – I slowly raised my gaze, giving him what I hoped was a friendly smile. ‘You’re right.’ I was managing to keep my voice quite steady, considering. ‘And, if I’m not mistaken, that’s not a local accent, either. Scottish, huh?’
He returned my smile; a rather nice smile, actually. No, make that a really nice smile. ‘Glasgow. Place called Newbank, just north of the Clyde.’
‘Okay… Well, it’s good to meet another Brit.’
‘Aye. It certainly is.’ Those dark eyes were fixed on mine, making it hard for me to look away, but I did so only briefly, taking in his battered jeans, his heavy boots and what looked like an extremely worn leather biker’s jacket. I couldn’t find any negatives so far. ‘You have a name, darlin’?’
I let the corner of my mouth curl up into a smile. ‘Have you?’
He laughed, a low, almost rasping, laugh. Jesus! That was hot! So hot! ‘I’m Eddie,’ he said, throwing me that smile again. ‘Eddie Fletcher.’
I felt my stomach give a huge, almost three-sixty-degree somersault as my eyes once more locked with his; something that, quite literally, took my breath away. It was a crazy feeling, but I was quite liking crazy. Crazy felt good!
‘Lana,’ I said quietly, my voice suddenly refusing to rise above a whisper. ‘Lana Saunders.’
‘Lana…’ he repeated, his eyes still fixed on mine as he spoke my name, all slow and sexy. ‘That’s a beautiful name.’
I was still running with crazy, but, seriously, I’d only gone to the bar for a couple of beers. I hadn’t expected to bump into a drop-dead-gorgeous biker dressed in leather and denim with a smile that seemed to have the ability to floor me within seconds.
‘You here on your own?’ he continued, and I looked back up at him, unaware I’d actually broken the stare, but I must have done at some point. ‘I’m here with friends. We work in a tattoo studio back home in the UK.’ There really was something about this stranger that made me feel as if I’d known him for years. Or that I’d, at least, seen him somewhere before. And I just couldn’t shake that feeling.
He leant back against the counter beside me, folding his arms as he looked out ahead of him, and I followed his gaze, watching the crowds as they flitted from stand to stand, doing whatever it was people did at events like this, because I really had no idea. This was all still quite new to me. It had a good vibe, though, I knew that much.
‘So, you’re here for the convention, then?’ he asked.
I nodded, then remembered he wasn’t actually looking at me, so he wouldn’t have been able to see my response. ‘Yeah. Yeah, we are.’
He turned to face me. ‘You in Vegas for long, Lana?’
Oh, dear God! The way he said my name! How did he do that?
‘A couple of days.’
My fingers tightened around the beer bottles I’d suddenly realised I was still holding, as his eyes once more met mine.
‘You’re not hanging around, then.’ It was more of a statement than a question.
‘No. No, we’re not.’
I finally broke the stare, looking down at my boots.
‘Okay, so, if you’re not gonna be around for long… How do you fancy a night to remember, sweetheart?’
I almost dropped the beers, my head shooting straight back up. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘Come out with me. Tonight. What d’you say, darlin’?’
3
That had thrown me. Somewhat. ‘I… I don’t know…’ Why didn’t I know?
Just say yes, Lana. Just say yes!
‘I know we’ve only just met, but…’ He shrugged. ‘Does that really matter?’ He raised an eyebrow, his mouth twisting up into a slight smirk. How could anybody manage to make that look so incredibly sexy? And even though there was a part of me that wanted to scream, Do you know what? We might have only just met, but what the hell! Yes, I’ll go out with you! there was another part of me – remnants of the old, more reserved and cautious Lana, maybe – that was holding back. A part of me that was slightly wary of accepting his invitation.
‘No. It doesn’t really matter, but…’ That cautious part had won. ‘Look, I… I really should go and find my friends…’
He pushed a hand through his hair, and I watched as his expression changed, his eyes dipping briefly before he looked back at me. ‘I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, in any way, it’s just that, when I saw you last night…’
‘You saw me last night?’ My voice appeared to have gone up an octave, and I gave a little cough in the hope it would return to normal next time I opened my mouth. ‘Where?’ Thankfully, it had.
‘In the bar, downstairs. You staying here?’
I nodded, and then I suddenly realised where I’d seen him before – or, at least, where I thought I’d seen him before. ‘Were you with a group of bikers?’
He smiled, and I kind of liked the way his eyes crinkled up at the edges when he did that. ‘You saw us?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, I saw you.’
‘You were with a tall, tattooed guy,’ Eddie went on. ‘Boyfriend?’
‘Brother,’ I corrected, pleased my voice appeared to be behaving itself now.
‘Do you have a boyfriend?’
My eyes were fixed on his as I spoke, my voice still steady as a rock, despite my insides misbehaving in a way they hadn’t done in a long, long time. ‘Is that any of your business?’
He laughed quietly, raking a hand through his hair. ‘There’s something about you, Lana.’
I continued to stare at him, right at him. That weird feeling I’d experienced last night, as I’d left the bar – was that down to him?
‘You stood out, from everybody else in that room last night.I don’t know why, I just… My eyes, they went straight to you, the second I walked in. And that incredible sleeve tattoo you’ve got, that might’ve had something to do with it. That’s some pretty eye-catching ink there, darlin’.’
I looked at my arm, absentmindedly running my hand up and down it.
‘You seem like the kind of woman I…’ He trailed off, his eyes dropping to the floor. ‘Anyway, seeing you here…’He raised his gaze, looking straight at me. ‘Do you believe in fate?’
I narrowed my eyes slightly. ‘About as much as I believe in the tooth fairy.’ I wasn’t sure I’d meant that to sound quite as cynical as it had come out.
He raised that eyebrow again, and I was beginning to wish he’d stop doing that because it was really messing with my head. ‘You’ve never believed in the tooth fairy?’
I shrugged. ‘I was a cynical child.’
‘And…are you still cynical?’
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. He kind of made me want to smile. ‘Not as much.’
He smiled too, and I found myself relaxing that little bit more, a strange yet comforting warmth flooding through me. I was actually starting to enjoy myself now.
‘That’s a shame. Because you don’t look like a cynical woman to me.’
‘And what does a cynical woman look like, exactly?’
His head dropped again, and I couldn’t help noticing the way his hair fell forward; the way he quickly pushed it back off his face as he turned to look at me again. ‘About tonight…’
His eyes almost burned into mine, my skin breaking out in goose bumps as a warm shiver ran right up my back. And for a few seconds – a few glorious, almost unreal, seconds – it was like we were the only two people in the room. ‘I… Eddie, I can’t. I can’t.’ Reality – and my over-cautious side – returned. And the moment was gone.
‘Okay.’ He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. ‘I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but… You take care now, darlin’, you hear?’
I nodded, giving him one more smile before I turned and started to walk away, bumping straight into Finn, who was quite obviously on his way to find me.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ he asked, taking a beer from me. ‘Thought you were brewing the stuff yourself… What?’
I took a quick glance behind me, and Finn’s gaze followed mine.
‘What am I supposed to be looking at?’
My eyes were still on Eddie as he disappeared back into the mass of people. ‘That guy over there. The one in the black-leather biker jacket… He’s pushing a hand through his hair now, look! Him.’
Finn frowned. ‘Yeah? What about him?’
I took a second or two to let that totally unexpected encounter sink in a little more before I spoke again. ‘He just asked me out.’
‘Fuck off!’ Finn laughed, his expression changing only when he saw mine. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘I said I couldn’t.’ I closed my eyes and threw back my head, letting out the longest groan. ‘Why did I say that?’
‘Beats me, kiddo.’
I looked at him. ‘You’re no help.’
‘What do you want me to do? I can go check him out for you, if you like. You know, do the brotherly thing, find out if he’s got any dark secrets…’
I threw Finn a look. ‘I just got a shock, you know? It was a bit of a surprise, that’s all. I mean, it’s not like it’s been an everyday occurrence for me, has it? Men asking me out.’
‘Only because you’ve shied away from any attention of that kind, Lana. Believe me, sis, there’s a queue of people back home all gagging to ask you out, but that look you give sometimes… it kind of warns them off. You do know you’re doing that, don’t you? It’s like a fucking death stare…’
‘I’d just walked out on Adam.’
‘That was a year ago, Lana.’
‘I’d just walked out on my life, and I’m still trying to get used to a new one. Relationships have been the last thing on my mind.’
‘And now?’
‘My divorce has just come through, Finn.’
‘And your point is?’
I threw him yet another of my withering looks. ‘I turned him down, okay? Conversation over.’
‘Why –did you turn him down, I mean?’
‘Why?’
‘Yes. Why?’
It was a question I’d probably be asking myself for days to come, if I was honest. ‘Look, the ink isn’t even dry on my divorce papers…’
‘What’s that got to do with anything? Listen, Lana, it really is time to start living again. I know this year’s been tough on youand I know you’ve tried to move on, but you haven’t really made all that much progress, have you?’
I stared at him with wide eyes, indicating my tattoos, my black-tipped hair; my skinny jeans and biker boots. ‘This isn’t progress?’
‘That’s all wrapping paper, kiddo. I’m talking about what’s going on inside.’
‘You’re very perceptive, all of a sudden.’
He pulled a face, downing another mouthful of beer. ‘Why not take a chance now and again? That’s all I’m saying.’
I looked back out into the crowd, even though I knew Eddie would be long gone and the slight pang of regret I’d felt since he’d walked away intensified. Why couldn’t I just have said yes? There’d been something about that manand not just the way he looked, all edgy and rough and, quite frankly, hotashell. There’d just been something about him… the way he’d looked at me. There was a connection there and I’d just severed it, dead. ‘Should I have accepted?’ I asked quietly, still staring out into the crowd, as though willing Eddie to reappear. Eddie Fletcher – the kind of Prince Charming who wouldn’t so much ride up on a white stallion, he’d be more likely to cruise up on a Harley, and I’d turned him down!
Oh God! I’d said no! How could I have said no?! Lana, you idiot!
Finn shrugged, his voice pulling me back to reality. ‘All I’m saying is, you’re trying to build this new life for yourself, right? And I can only do so much, you know? I mean, I’ve given you one hell of a kick-start…’
I playfully nudged his arm. ‘Don’t sell yourself short or anything.’
‘I really am being serious now, Lana. Sometimes in life you’ve just got to take a risk. And this could have been one of those times.’
I sighed. ‘I’m not looking for any kind of relationship, Finn, you know that.’
‘He asked you out, sis. He didn’t propose.’
He put his arm around my shoulders again and I hugged his waist tight as we walked. ‘It just all feels a bit… I dunno. Odd. Surreal.’
‘Truthfully, did even the tiniest part of you want to say yes to him?’ Finn asked.
‘Yeah. It did. It really did.’
‘Then you should have gone with your gut, girl.’
‘I know,’ I sighed, because regret was kicking in big-time now.
‘I mean, what happened to that fun-loving, kick-ass woman you told me you were gonna become? I thought you were someone who was determined to take life by the balls and live it.’
‘I am. It’s just… it’s still hard for me, sometimes, to get my head around the fact that this is me now. You know what I was like before, and this – this is so different.’
Finn flashed me a huge grin. ‘Yeah, but just remember how boring your life was before you started hanging out with me again.’
I smiled at him, knowing he was kind of right. But my life hadn’t been that bad before. It just hadn’t been the life I’d wanted in the end. ‘Even if I was looking to start all that dating crap again, Finn, I’m not sure… Look, all of this is pointless. I said no, he’s gone, it’s over.’
Finn gave my hand a little squeeze. ‘You’ve still got me.’
‘Yeah. I’ve still got you.’ I leant over to kiss his cheek. ‘And I’ve still got this weekend in Vegas.’
But what kind of weekend could it have been? The chance to find out was gone now. I’d blown it. Whoever Eddie Fletcher was, I’d probably never see him again. And that was nobody’s fault but my own.
Pulling the hem of my dress, which I still thought was a little too short, down over my thighs, I quickly looked around as I waited for the elevator to arrive. Black, strapless, and just about skimming my arse, I couldn’t deny I loved the way it made me feel, despite its slightly daring length. I’d teamed it with knee-high, black, spike-heeled boots, which made my legs look pretty much incredible, even if I did say so myself, and with my long blonde-and-black hair hanging in large, loose curls down my back, my make-up all dark eyes and pale lips, those tattoos I was so proud of all on show, I felt every inch the wannabe biker chick I’d always dreamt of becoming. I was slowly getting used to the fact that I could scrub up pretty well for a woman about to hit forty. I still had it, and I was damn well going to make sure I flaunted it, while I still could.
Taking a quick peek in the full-length mirror on the wall beside the elevator, I studied my reflection carefully. The woman staring back at me was one I still wasn’t all that familiar with, but I was getting a little more used to her as each day passed. And a lot of that was down to Finn. He’d made me realise it wasn’t a crime to change, if that was what you needed to do. He’d given me a strength and a confidence I’d never had before, and I loved him so much for that. So much. Because, without him, I wasn’t sure I’d be where I was right now.
As the elevator doors slowly slid open I pulled the hem of my dress down again, wiggling my hips slightly to help it on its way.
‘Whoa!’
That voice, accompanied by a long, low whistle, made my head shoot up and I could have died of embarrassment as I saw him standing there, leaning back against the handrail. Eddie Fletcher. Bold as brass and twice as hot as I remembered him being a few hours ago. Shit! I wasn’t prepared for this. I mean, it was like all my prayers were being answered now, bumping into him again after I’d spent the entire afternoon berating myself for letting him go. But a little bit of warning would have been nice.
‘Looking good there, darlin’.’
Jesus! That accent! I’d never found a Glaswegian accent sexy before. Never. But on this guy it was like honey dripping off a hot crumpet…
What the hell was I talking about?
I quickly brushed down my dress, shook out my hair, and walked into the elevator, displaying what I hoped was an air of confidence, which was more difficult than it should have been thanks to boots I wasn’t quite used to walking in yet.
Leaning back against the rail beside him, I watched as the doors slid shut, neither of us saying anything for a second or two. But I was more than aware of my heart picking up a rhythm that was faster than I’d have liked it to be.
‘Where’re you heading?’ he asked, taking his hand out of his pocket and hovering his finger over the buttons on the wall to his left.
‘Ground floor.’ It was taking every ounce of strength I had to keep my voice steady. I hadn’t expected to see this man again, and yet, here we were, sharing an elevator. Just the two of us. Was I going to mess up a second time? I wasn’t planning on it.
He pulled his hand away, shoving it back in his pocket. ‘Me too.’
I took a sneaky sideways look at him. He wasn’t dressed all that differently to how he had been when I’d seen him earlier, still wearing those battered jeansand biker’s jacket, and those heavy black boots I found strangely sexy.
As he took his left hand out of his pocket again, raking it through his hair, I tried to see if he was wearing a wedding ring, and then quickly turned away as I realised I was probably staring. Again.
‘I’ve never been married,’ he said, as though reading my mind, which made me squirm slightly. Was I that transparent? Still, at least that was one question answered. ‘Never felt the need.’
I turned my head to look at him again, and he was smiling at me, a smile I really liked because it reached his eyes – those beautiful, dark eyes… I really had to get a grip here. I was in Las Vegas. This place didn’t exactly epitomise reality, and what was happening here, this wasn’t real. And even if the invitation to go out with him was still open, which I had yet to find out, in a few days’ time he’d be heading back to wherever he came from, and I’d be on my way back to England. That was the reality of the situation. So was it even worth me telling him I’d changed my mind? That I would, after all, like to go out with him? And what if he’d already found a woman more willing to take him up on his offer? It wouldn’t surprise me if he had.
‘What about you?’ he asked, his voice pulling me back to the here and now. ‘You never did answer my question earlier. When I asked if you had a boyfriend.’
I dropped my gaze, his question making Adam and my past life come rushing back to the forefront of my mind – a place I’d wanted to try and keep both well away from.
‘I’m divorced,’ I replied, the words falling from my mouth before I could stop them, my eyes back on his. ‘Finalised a few days ago.’ He hadn’t really needed to know that. And I had no idea why I’d told him.
It was his turn to lower his gaze, his hair falling down over his eyes as he dropped his head. Once more I felt the strangest feeling flood through me, something I couldn’t really explain, it just felt – I don’t know – like there was some invisible spark between us that kept firing off little shots of, well, it was like a heady mixture of excitement tinged with fear and… I was confusing myself now. It just felt – it felt nice. Really nice. Different.
‘I’m sorry.’ He looked back up, pushing his hair away from his face. ‘I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I just… I guess I let my mouth run away with me, huh?’
I smiled. I couldn’t help it. Once more he was just making me feel like smiling, and I wasn’t fighting that. ‘It’s okay. We’d been separated for a while and…’ I stopped talking, because this really was information he didn’t need to know. And I really didn’t want to talk about it.
He returned my smile, his eyes looking right into mine, and all I wanted now was a drink. Something to calm the sudden nerves that had taken over, caused by the close proximity of this darkly attractive man. A man I wanted to get to know better, and I wasn’t going to lose this opportunity a second time.
So when the elevator reached the ground floor, shuddering to a halt with a light thud, I almost willed him to ask me again; the same question he’d asked me this morning, because this time my answer would be yes. A huge, enthusiastic yes. Looking briefly down at my boots I waited for the doors to open, longing for him to ask that question, and wondering whether I should just make the first move myself before it was too late.
But I didn’t get the chance, because all of a sudden the elevator started moving again…
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