I feel like cussing him out, but I can't, because he's right. "I pushed him away," I say. "Even if I wanted to change things, it's too late."
"I'm sure Sebastian disagrees."
"Maybe." But I can't face him again.
Tate stands up. "While you think about what I said, I'm going to go find a girl to fuck." He starts dancing with a blonde he'll probably never see after tonight, and I order another drink.
Vi is right.
True love doesn't happen everyday.
Chapter 33
Thoughts and Memories
I try to forget about him. I do everything I can to wipe the memory of his scent out of my mind. To erase the thoughts of how his hands felt on my body.
But my dreams betray me.
Night after night I wake, expecting him to be snuggled up against me, hogging the sheets, and every day I'm disappointed by the cold, empty betrayal of my lonely bed.
So I do what I've always done in the past. I throw myself into my work.
Fall has come, and the weddings and crazy bachelor parties have slowed down. We knew this would be the case. We planned for it. Still, I feel the pinch of it financially and am forced to cut down on my trips to Starbucks and nip my budding wine addiction in the bud. Probably for the best, that one.
With renewed determination to not be a pathetic lump of a human, I grab my car keys and a water bottle, along with a box of business cards. "Tate, I'm heading to the Strip to proselytize. Be back in a few hours."
He looks up from his computer. "That's a great idea. Want some company?"
"Nah, I got this. You work on those newspaper ads."
He salutes me. "Yes ma'am."
It may be fall, but it's still hot as hell during the day.
I park in one of the hotel lots and map my route. The mission is to hit up as many hotels as possible, letting the concierge know the awesome services that Hitched has to offer and to build personal relationships. This business is all about referrals, and no one does referrals like a concierge who likes you.
I also have a side mission that I didn't tell Tate about. I check my purse to make sure the letter I slaved over is still in there. Yup. I make it my first stop, heading to the Wynn to get this into the hands of David Melton himself.
Vi knows the concierge there. I don't ask how. And he's going to help me.
When I arrive and introduce myself, the mousy man smiles. "Mistress Vi speaks highly of you," the concierge says. "Come, let us do this thing."
I refrain from laughing as he sneaks me to the penthouse suite and knocks on the door of Melton's room. I'm not sure who I'm expecting to answer the door, but I'm actually shocked to see the man himself standing there, dressed in black silk pajamas, his dark hair messy, his handsome face different without all the stage makeup. I almost forget how to speak.
He looks like he just woke up, and I realize this is probably early for him. I quickly introduce myself and hand him the letter. "I know you've chosen someone else, but if that doesn't work out, please consider Hitched. I know we can make your night memorable."
I wait, breath held, as he looks at my letter. "Well, Ms. Michaels, you're certainly committed to your work. I admire that. I'll read this over, but as my assistant told you, we have already commissioned another company to plan the party."
"Yes, I understand. But I couldn't walk away without giving it one last try."
He smiles. "That will get you far in life. Have a good day."
He closes the door, and my bones turn to Jell-O. I thank the concierge and text Vi, thanking her for the connection, then continue my sales pitch down the Strip.
I've handed out a dozen cards when I stop in front of the hotel. The one I met Sebastian in. I take a deep breath and brace myself, then walk into the cool, air-conditioned lobby.
I expect everything to remind me of him, and it does. And I'm not emotionally prepared.
I bite my lip to keep from crying and walk faster toward the concierge. He’s tall and wiry with a shock of red hair that looks like it's trying to escape his head. He smiles widely as I approach.
"Hi, I'm—"
Before I can introduce myself, he cuts me off. "Mrs. Donovan, yes! I remember you. You and your husband stayed here. It's so good to see you again. I love meeting happy couples after I've had the honor of witnessing their nuptials."
"You were at our wedding?"
He frowns for a moment, then smiles again. "Yes, of course. I helped arrange it and stayed as witness. But I understand it was an exciting evening, and there was much celebrating. It's no wonder certain memories have become a bit blurry."
I keep a smile frozen on my face and pretend I still know how to behave like a normal human being. "Yes—no, I mean, of course I remember you. Thank you so much for all of your help." The words are hard to say, like they're stuck in molasses, but I get them out and hope he doesn't notice how odd I'm behaving.
"It was my pleasure, of course. Oh! Before I forget..." He reaches under his desk and pulls out a manila envelope. "Sorry this took so long. I was going to mail these but since you're here..." He hands it to me.
"What is it?"