"I'll see you tonight." He cheerfully sauntered into the master bedroom, and emerged 20 seconds later with a room key in hand. I stood there, arms crossed, feeling rather silly in my plush robe and wet hair, and watched as he winked at me, then left the room. The door shut quietly behind him.
Fuck. That just made it pretty freaking clear who had upper hand. I flopped down on the sofa to lament my woes, and then grabbed my cell off the coffee table and punched in Olivia's number.
She answered on the second ring.
"Please tell me you are alive and safe."
"Very alive and pretty safe." I teased.
"Having a good time?"
I wandered through the suite and pondered her question. "Pretty good. We didn't do much last night, just checked in and went to bed." I decided to leave out my hysterical crying fit.
"Bed? or BED?"
I giggled. "Just normal bed, Olivia. He has been a gentlemen, and we have a two-room suite." Not that the second room has been used.
"So you slept separately?"
"Yes. Kind of. There was some cuddling."
"Wow. You are so wild and crazy. " she monotoned. "Cuddling? On the second date? Becca would tear you a new ass**le if she heard this."
The room phone rang, and I glanced over my shoulder and frowned at it.
"Becca? I'm going to have to call you back."
CHAPTER 18
I looked at the phone, unsure of whether I should answer it or not. Finally I bit the bullet and picked up the receiver. It was the concierge, confirming our 7pm dinner reservation at Prime, and asking if we wanted a house limo to take to the show. Unsure, I went ahead and reserved the car. I would check with Brad during dinner to see if I needed to cancel it. I remember Brad asking me, or Tiffany, to reserve a car for him, but hadn't seen a rental car yet. Maybe he was using it now; doing whatever important "stuff" he had to do.
I sat back at the table and munched on a few breakfast potatoes, mulling over my day. I decided to hit the hotel pool, and then spend the afternoon at the spa. I fingered the card that Brad had left, and dialed Philipe's extension.
A male voice answered on the second ring, stiff and business-like. It warmed dramatically when I identified myself.
"Ms. Campbell! How can I help you?"
"I was thinking about going to the spa this afternoon. Could you help me to book some services?"
"Certainly. Just let me know what services you would like."
"I was thinking about a massage?"
"Julia. In Vegas, you need to go big. Let me put you down for a full treatment. Make that beautiful man treat you right."
"Your the boss, Philipe." I smiled into the receiver.
"Shall I put you down for one o’clock?"
"That would be perfect. Thank you." I was preparing to hang up when he spoke again.
"What are you doing between now and one?"
"I was going to go to the pool."
He clicked his tongue into the receiver. "You don't want to go to the hotel's pool, it is a zoo. Give me a call when you're ready, and I’ll have someone escort you to our VIP pool."
"You rock."
I could hear his smile. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."
"Talk to you soon."
I hung up the phone, and moseyed to the bedroom, flipping on the clock radio when I got to the room. My outlook had brightened considerably after speaking to Philipe. Why had I been pissed to spend the day alone? I pushed a few of the presets until I found a top 40 station. I turned up the volume and walked into the closet, unzipping my suitcase and flipping it open. I had only packed one bathing suit, an electric blue bikini. I dropped my robe and stepped into the suit bottoms, tightening the side ties. A Rihanna song started on the radio, and I sang and danced my way into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth again, and then applied some waterproof mascara and lip gloss. My hair was still damp, so I ran a big comb through it, and pulled it into a low knot. Becca had loaned me a sheer white cover-up, and I grabbed it and my bikini top out of my suitcase. I put them both on, and picked up the bathroom phone. I dialed Philipe's extension.
"Already ready?"
"Yes sir."
"Someone will be there shortly."
"Thanks."
Five minutes later, as I was pulling on a pair of bejeweled sandals, there was a knock at the door. I grabbed the bag I had packed, complete with tanning spray, magazines, and a towel, and went to the door. An attractive blond in a grey suit stood there and flashed a friendly smile.
"You Julia?"
"I am!" I reached out my hand, and she shook it.
"I'm Rayne. Philipe asked me to show you to Cypress. You ready?"
"I am. Let's go."
Rayne kept up a steady stream of chatter as we traversed down the halls, elevator, and through four different buildings. I was grateful she was there and more than a little worried about finding my way back. Finally, we arrived at a pool entrance, roped off, with a line of people waiting to enter. She breezed by the line and waved at the security guard. She grabbed my hand and pulled me with her, moving through throngs of people until we arrived at a white cabana with linen curtains.; We ducked inside, and I saw a couch, television and wet bar. There was a wicker basket next to the couch with sun oils, magazines, and towels. The wet bar had a bowl of fresh fruit, and an ice bucket with bottled waters, sodas, beers, and mixers. In front of the cabana, in a roped off area, were two chaise lounges, ready with additional towels and pillows.
I flopped down on the couch and smiled blissfully at Rayne. She laughed and crossed her arms. "I take it this is acceptable?"
"Girl, you are gonna have to drag me out of here!"
She laughed and took the seat next to me on the couch. "I wish I could stay here and relax, but I have a whale up in Prive that is dying to grab my ass again. If you need anything, Trevor will get it for you."
"Who's Trevor?"
"Oh, you'll see." She winked teasingly and sauntered off. I looked around the cabana and grinned to myself. I set my useless bag down on the floor and unzipped my cover-up. Pulling the garment over my head, I tightened my bikini strings and then started looking at the oils in the basket.
"Hello." A gorgeous blond stuck his head in, and then the rest of his body followed. He wore a tight white Bellagio polo, and short white shorts. A little too short. My suspicions were confirmed when he stood up in the cabana and sashayed rather than strode over to me. The man's features were Ken-doll perfect and he had gleaming white teeth. I assumed this was Trevor. "Ms. Campbell, I am Trevor." He had a Russian lilt, something I'd never heard from a g*y man before.