“Paranoid much, Marilyn? No, man. I didn’t even know where you were headed. You kind of left in a rush…” I trailed off, not wanting to remind her too much about the defeat.
“I see. Anyway, enjoy your vacation. What about Billie Jean? Did she come with you?” she asked, all concerned. Her amber eyes caught all the light there was in the place and became luminous and irresistible.She’s your boss, Chris! Get a grip, man!
“Yes. We got in a good workout at this great dog park here, and she is totally tuckered out. So, I popped downstairs for a drink. Have you had dinner yet?” I asked, somewhat hopefully.
“I had a meeting with the clients out here, and we grabbed some dinner. So, I’m good, thanks. See you around,” she smiled sweetly–I wonder if it hurt from being so out of practice.
FIVE
MARILYN
The skeptic in me whispered that Chris was out here in Vegas to check up on me. Experience had taught me that it was typical of the firm to do something like that after the meltdown I’d had after losing that ridiculous case. But Chris himself was just so adorably clueless and klutzy. It was hard to believe that he would ever agree to spying on me or doing anything against the law.He’d likely feel guilty jaywalking.
The problem was that I just did not see him wanting to spend his downtime in a place like Las Vegas. Surely the Grand Canyon or a hike in the mountains with his faithful Billie Jean was more his speed. Unless he was here with a lady friend and wouldn’t tell me.What does it matter to you if he’s here with a woman? You’re his boss. Stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.
But sure enough, I got my answer the very next evening. After a trying day of chasing up dead ends and being stone-walled by an entitled junior partner from a rival firm, I dragged myself to the bar for a stiff drink to take the edge off. Maybe it was because he was across the bar from me and the lighting was dim in that area, or it could have been the fact that he was dressed in a style that was rather out of the ordinary, and his hair was greased back into an Elvis style, but I didn’t find him as attractive.I’d always heard that Vegas did strange things to people–but this is unusual behavior for Chris.Maybe his girlfriend likes that look on him.
Nevertheless, I spotted Chris, in a rather ‘playful’ mood, getting uncomfortably handsy with a pretty, young waitress.I hoped he didn’t have a girlfriend if he was flirting with girls!I didn’t think he did. And he didn’t stop when she made it known she was uncomfortable. The Chris I knew always treated women with the utmost respect. Despite his keen sense of humor, he knew how far to push the envelope. Perhaps being in Vegas had changed him drastically.
He must be on drugs or something! How dare he treat her like that! To think that he made such a show of defending me with that bozo just last night!I could feel the bile rise up to my throat, and suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I fought my way outside escaping the oppressive air that threatened to suffocate me. Perhaps my anger was unwarranted, considering that he was just my subordinate at work and we had no social ties whatsoever to each other–I had no right to have behavioral expectations of him while he was on vacation. But it was a matter of trust as well. I trusted that he was a certain type of person, and now I felt I had been betrayed by what kind of person I just saw him to be.
Absently, I bumped into an angry-looking suit who looked vaguely familiar. “Watch it!” he bellowed. It was that ratty junior partner again.This guy is like a boomerang. He keeps coming back to torment me.
“Oh, it’s you. We’ve gotta stop bumping into each other like this, Marilyn. People are going to think you have a thing for me,” he whispered in my ear with a smug arrogance that I desperately wanted to wipe off his face.
“Well, those who know me know I have much better taste. If you will excuse me–I have reached my threshold for arrogant suits for one day, Brendon,” I replied coolly, making my disdain for his antics crystal clear.
“What do you say we bury the hatchet over a couple of drinks, my treat?” he suggested in an amateur attempt at charm.
“Only if you promise to send me the files you’ve been withholding from us. I can’t do my job with you stonewalling me at every turn. And I’ve got to wonder what it is you are all so afraid of over at Brinkstein and Baird.” The look on his face was all I needed to confirm that there was a cover-up going on, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.
“I–I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Marilyn. I just wanted to brighten up your evening–maybe save you from a long stretch of having to deal with your own company. But it seems like that is exactly what you had in mind. I’ll leave you to it then,” he said as he brushed past me–his face the color of beets.
There was just something about this case that didn't add up, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it. The housing development company which my firm represented was being counter-sued by the very contractors our client was suing. It was a legitimate Warranty of Habitability suit from our side. However, the counterclaim was rather far-fetched and underhanded, considering the cowardly nature of their move.
Deciding to try the bar at my hotel as an alternative, I walked a few blocks back, hoping the fresh air would clear my mind. I enjoyed looking at the bright lights and fancy hotels on my way to The Mirage, where I was staying. The awe of it all made me happy, and the warm air calmed me. I only had a few more days here, so I wanted to enjoy some of my time here, but I still had so much work to do.
I plopped myself down on a stool, eyeing the various liquor bottles in front of me. I generally drank either wine or beer, but tonight I was in the mood for something stronger.
“What will it be, young lady?” The sexy bartender leaned over and smiled warmly, looking at me with sparkling blue eyes. I loved the way his long bleached blond hair framed his handsome face.
My heart did a little flip-flop as a smile spread across my face. If this was the view, then I was in for a long night of drinking. “Rum and coke, please.”
“Coming right up, Beautiful,” he said, spinning around to put my drink together. He slid the drink over to me as he winked. “What brings you to the bright lights?”
I wrinkled my brow and rolled my eyes. “Work, unfortunately.”
He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at me quizzically. “That’s a sin. You can’t be in this wonderful place and not experience all it has to offer.”
“I have to agree, which is why I’m enjoying your company alongside my drink,” I said, batting my eyelashes.
He flashed a grin showing remarkably straight, white teeth. I was a sucker for pearly whites. Too bad he was too young for me. However, no one who would judge me would ever know. It was something to consider, depending on how drunk I got. I couldn’t believe I was contemplating having hot, steamy sex with a stranger who was likely several years younger than me. What was the cliche? What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. I smiled at my apparent lack of a moral compass. I think it was broken at the moment.
He helped a few other people and then came back to me. “My name is Kris, with a K,” he said as he dried a few glasses.
I almost spit out some of my drink but recovered quickly. What were the odds? I honestly didn’t think I had ever met a Chris, or a Christopher, or aKrisbefore. Now I know two of them? I downed the rest of my drink and said, “Another one, please.” I eyed him while his back was turned. I could tell by the way his shirt fit that he was buff. He was probably a model by day and a bartender by night. Or he should be. “My name is Marilyn,” I offered as he made my drink.
He set a new glass in front of me (and I saw that he put more than one shot in it) and said, “Beautiful name for a beautiful lady. How long are you here for?” He tilted his head and gazed into my eyes.