Heather made a hand gesture. “Biscayne Bay Lagoon, and the Atlantic sit on both sides of the strip. As you can see,”—she pointed up and over to sets of tall buildings—“most of these are hotels, like the Colony Hotel and other iconic landmarks. Then you have the folks”—her eyebrows waggled—“that can afford to live here, like Anton.”
Scanning each building as the Porsche jetted down the road, the wind blowing through the windows ruffling my hair, I noted the myriad of rich colors in palettes I didn’t often see. In Vegas, everything seems brown or terracotta-colored. In LA, you’ve got everything from brilliant white to a variety of muted tones that fit with the California vibe. Here though, colors seemed to burst out in pale sunny oranges, blues, and pinks mixed with white.
“See all these places...” She pointed out the businesses such as the Colony Hotel and Boulevard Hotel with a whisk of her hand into the flowing wind. I nodded and stretched over her form to see better. “...they all light up in neon colors at night. Kind of like in Vegas.”
Vegas. I’m sure my eyes widened as a steady thud picked up in my chest. A pang of need suddenly coiled around my heart. I needed to call Maddy and Ginelle. Man, Gin would be so pissed when I tell her what happened in Washington, DC. Maybe I could get away with never bringing it up? That idea certainly had some serious merit. “That’s so cool. I’m originally from Vegas so it will be nice to see the buildings lit up.” I sat back in my seat and enjoyed the breeze, allowing the tension I’d picked up from DC and Boston when I had to leave Rachel and Mason behind, to dissipate.
Fumbling, I pulled out my phone and turned it on. Several pings rang out. I scanned them, a message from Rachel telling me to text when I’d arrived. A message from Tai asking if the new client was a gentleman or if he needed to get on a plane again. And a text from Ginelle. Oh, snap. This was not good.
My stomach felt like a pit the size of the Grand Canyon, a never-ending cavern of dread filling the wide open space.
To: Mia Saunders
From: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss
You were attacked? In the hospital? Why the fuck did I have to hear about it in a text from Tai’s brother! If you aren’t already dead I’m so going to kill you!
Sucking in a breath between my teeth I typed out a reply.
To: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss
From: Mia Saunders
Just a little mishap. No big deal. Totally fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ll call you later when I get settled with the Latin Lov-ah.
To: Mia Saunders
From: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss
Latin Lov-ah? No shit? He’s like the biggest thing in hip hop and habanero hot!
To: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss
From: Mia Saunders
I heard he’s douchey.
To: Mia Saunders
From: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss
That man can douche me any time…preferably with his tongue!
To: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss
From: Mia Saunders
You’re twisted!
To: Mia Saunders
From: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss
I’d like to be the rice and beans on the side of his entre. The churro to end his meal. The flaming flan he blows on and licks clean.
To: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss
From: Mia Saunders
Stop! Crazy whore. Jeez. You make me look like a fucking saint.
To: Mia Saunders
From: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss
At least I know if I’m going to hell you’ll be right there giving me a lift!
I laughed out loud as Heather said, “Work?” while gesturing toward my phone. I hit a button and put it on silent before sliding it into my purse.
“Sorry. Best friend. Checking in.” I sighed and flicked my hair over one shoulder. The heat was getting to me. Leaning over I adjusted the air vent to blast me with icy cold goodness. Ah, better. Obviously Heather wasn’t worried about wasting the cool air by also having the windows down.
“You close?” Her lips pursed together as she turned into an underground parking garage.
My brows furrowed. What part of ‘best friend’ did she not hear? “Yep. Close as you can get. Known one another forever.”
She huffed, and slammed the car into park. “You’re lucky. I don’t have any friends.” Her words jolted through me like an electric shock.
“What do you mean? Everyone has friends.”
Heather shook her head. “Not me. Too much work to do to cultivate relationships. Anton has to be the best. Even if I’m just his PA, I need to rock the house. Besides, my education is in business management. One day maybe I’ll be making the decisions for an artist. If I want my dreams to come true, I have to work hard.”
“Guess so.” I shrugged and followed her as she walked briskly towards an elevator, passing a line of seriously impressive luxury cars.