As we roll onto the crowded Strip, I hear someone murmur something about a gun.
“What?”
“We were hearing Domino was packing,” the one named Bella says.
“It was just better for us to go,” Loveless agrees.
“So I held you guys up?” I ask. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re our guest, and Loveless left you,” Juniper says. “Don’t worry. We’re a family here. We forgive each other. And this isn’t even an offense that warrants forgiveness.”
“How was Juan?” Bella asks Loveless. “Still looking fine as mama’s apple pie?”
“Finer than a key lime pie,” Loveless confirms.
She glances over at me, giving me an exaggerated wink. I don’t really understand it, and it’s not long before I drift off into my own little bubble of angst.
By the time we make it off the Strip, I’ve decided one thing is true: Regardless of what else going on with Hunter…the man is, in fact, into me. I remember the way his eyes burned when he first grabbed onto me. The way his face looked after he got me off, when he was smiling down on me. When I add everything up, I’m tempted to say Hunter doesn’t want to have a thing with me, but he can’t help himself.
I smirk. Maybe it’s pheromones.
The road darkens as we head southeast, toward the ranch, and in the privacy of the dark, I allow myself to remember his beautiful body and the way it felt hugged up against me. I’m pretty sure this will be the last time I ever see it—I’m not doing this to myself again—so I want to remember everything. But the thing that stands out most in my mind, other than the way he came undone as I stroked his dick, is his back.
And I know Priscilla did that. And I hate her for it.
I wonder for the hundred-thousandth time, why? Why is he with her? She’s attractive in a prefabricated kind of way, but there are lots of other fish in the sea—other pretty women with Crest-white smiles, ostentatious boob jobs, and mile-long legs.
I swallow, feeling weird. I’m one of them now, aren’t I? Okay, my boobs are real, but now that I’ve gotten into shape, I’m leggy, and I’ve always had a nice, white smile. It’s strange to think of myself as pretty when I’m so accustomed to ignoring my appearance—but I’m not so bad. A few weeks under Brenda’s care and I’ll be just as cut as the next working girl. If he could have a caring woman like me, why is he with her?
I’m going to figure that out.
I’ve finally relax a little as the girls take turns describing features of their best-ever client, leaving the others to guess names. And then we turn onto the little asphalt road that’s lined with billboards, and Loveless leans in close and whispers, “I didn’t talk to Juan tonight. I saw him, but he went downstairs before I could get to him.”
Her eyes widen purposefully, and I know what she’s saying. She saw me disappear with Hunter. I expect her to ask me for details, but instead she pats my knee. “It’s your story, Cinderella. Just tell me, did you lose a shoe?”
She has a habit of saying things that I don’t understand, but I have a miserable sense that the answer is yes. Tears fill my eyes, and she whispers, “Oh, honey.”
I nod, and I feel a little better.
I TRY TO tell myself I’m not obsessed, but it’s a lie. Suri calls Friday morning before I go down for breakfast, and I spill all—starting with the rendezvous at Hunter’s house party and going all the way through the tryst in the sauna at the Joseph Club two nights ago.
I’m eagerly awaiting her response when I hear violent sobbing on the other end of the line.
“Oh my God.” My stomach does a back-flip. “Is it something with Cross?”
“Adam,” she wails. “We had a falling out and—” She makes a soft sound almost like a hiccup. “We’re not getting married anymore!”
I sit down on my bed. “Oh my God, what happened?”
“And Cross has his eyes open!”
“Whoa. Holy shit! Like, for real open?”
“For real!” She’s still sobbing. I get up and start to pace the pale pink carpet.
“Suri, do you want to come here? Can you come here for like a day? An hour?” All I want is to be with her, but I know that I can’t leave this close to auction time.
“No.” I hear her cry some more, and then she pulls it together, although she’s still speaking in her sobbing voice. “Cross is doing...really good. Nanette is stunned. The doctors are surprised. He’s had his eyes open for a day or so now, but he’s not really saying much.” She sniffs. “I just wish he would talk.”
And then she’s crying again—and so am I.
“They pulled him off some of the medicine yesterday. They think that might be why he’s more alert. I think he’s coming off some more today.” Suri still sounds sniffly.