SIX
CHRIS
When the sun seared through the curtains, tapping my sensitive brain with bright fingers, I moaned, covering my eyes with my arm. I lay motionless, trying to collect my memory of the night before. Billie Jean licked my cheek, laid down beside me, and put her head on my chest. Flashes of Marilyn and I drinking in her hotel room reminded me of how the headache came about.
She was so feisty, and I was finding it hard to pinpoint her personality. I never knew which Marilyn I was going to be faced with. There was the Marilyn who didn’t want to be bothered with anything other than what was going on in her own life. I was learning she didn’t like being concerned with anyone else’s problems. She seemed to be narrow-minded that way. She was a self-sufficient, professionally confident, and powerful woman and didn’t need anyone interfering with her independence. That was extremely clear. I’d seen her work under pressure in the courtroom, and she was so calm under pressure. I think she actually thrived on the pressures of her career.
I also noticed that she used sarcasm to cover up the fact that she felt emotionally lost. Now, I’m guessing here, but I got the sense that something awful happened in her childhood that made her feel like she has to excel at everything, almost like she never felt she was good enough. She was so defensive and cold. I wanted to get underneath that turtle shell of hers and delve deeper into her psyche and past so that I could learn more about her. I had a sneaky suspicion there was more to her than what she openly presented to the public, and I fully intended on finding out what that was.
Okay, Chris, too much thinking for someone suffering a hangover.Somehow, I had to convince myself to get up and start the day. I rolled over so that the sun was at my back instead of blaring in my eyes. I had a chat with myself about the pros and cons of staying in bed. I could get more sleep and hopefully feel better and more rested, or I could get up and have an amazing meal at one of the many restaurants and then go over to the underground mall at Caesars Palace. My niece’s birthday was in a few weeks, so I could get a head start on my shopping. The thought was a great one, but it would involve people and noise. I wondered if Marilyn would go with me.
I sat up as my eyes popped open.Why am I contemplating asking Marilyn to spend an afternoon with me shopping for my niece?I laughed. I couldn’t imagine her being much of a ‘kid’ person. I doubt she would ever want children as they would mess up her meticulously organized life. I laughed out loud, imaging a bunch of little Marilyn’s running around and her pulling her hair out. Laughing that hard was a good choice for someone with a splitting headache. I moaned again as I eased myself off the bed and walked slowly to the bathroom. A shower would help and some food. My stomach had been growling since I woke, and I’d noticed a great restaurant close to the hotel that I thought I could check out. I studied myself in the mirror, and I looked rough. I decided to shave, hoping that would help.
Once I was dressed and feeling a bit better, I went out to the living room portion of my hotel room and noticed a paper on the floor by the door. I scratched my head, wondering what it could be. Likely something from housekeeping or the hotel itself. I bent over and picked it up, unfolding it.
In her neat and precise handwriting (every single letter was perfect and followed every rule like she’d practiced it 1,000 times), Marilyn had penned me a note. I couldn’t believe what I was reading.
Chris:
No doubt you are feeling like I am. Like an 18-wheeler crashed into your skull.
I think we can agree that last night was not good for our professional relationship, which is why it can never happen again.
Let’s not discuss it or make any reference to it.
Instead, let’s move forward as if it never happened.
I left some files in a briefcase at the front desk for you. In it, you will find all the necessary information you need to get yourself up to speed on my next case.
My jaw dropped.So, this is how you’re going to play it, is it?
I folded up the note and paced the hotel room. I paused to look out the window down at the pool. I was on the second floor, so I could see everything pretty clearly. I watched all the people get their towels and pick a lawn chair while others were reading or drinking and some were swimming. It was a beautiful sunny day (as I found out when I was trying to wake up this morning). I was about to leave when I spotted a woman in a bright red and white polka dot bikini. She was wearing white sunglasses and carrying a towel and a drink. I could tell it was her simply by the way she walked and held herself. She had a way of seeming like she was sliding across the floor. She was so graceful in her movements, even if her personality was anything but.
I watched her pick out a lawn chair and lay her towel down. She adjusted her umbrella and slipped off her sandals. Once she was lying down, reading her book, I decided I was going to go down and pay her a little visit. With a little luck, the chair beside her would still be free by the time I made my way down.
I got myself a towel and a drink of water. It was only 11:30 a.m. It was an unwritten rule in my social circle that you didn’t drink until noon. Besides, I didn’t think my stomach could handle alcohol this early in the day.
I pretended I had no idea who she was and lay my towel on the lawn chair beside her. I quickly glanced over at her, and she currently had her eyes closed.Perfect.It would give me a chance to get settled.
I kept my sunglasses on so that she couldn’t see my eyes looking at her. I watched her as she took a sip of her salmon pink-colored drink. It looked an awful lot like a cocktail. I was shocked she could drink this early in the morning after the night we’d had. She must have an iron stomach just like her iron will.
I looked at the book title she was reading.My Heart’s Desire wasthe title, and there was a picture of a hot man with…was that eight abs…and a sexy woman in a white silky dress on the cover. The subtitle saidMr. Right Sweeps Lola into His Dreams.I would never have pegged her as someone who would read romance novels. So, she could let loose a little.
Marilyn folded the book and put it in her purse. She picked up her drink and sat up, looking around. She looked right at me, and I remained still, pretending I was sleeping. She pulled off her sunglasses and took another look at me, narrowing her eyes. Her eyes grew wider, and I know she figured out it was me.
“Chris?” she said.
I turned my head, then sat up, taking off my sunglasses.Busted.I wanted her to figure it out, just not yet. “Why, Marilyn! What are you doing here?”
She pursed her lips and straightened up her shoulders. The sun snuck under her umbrella and illuminated her sexy amber eyes. I would never get tired of looking into them. They were like caramel swirls with gold flecks. I swear I could lose myself in them. I cleared my throat. “Just doing some relaxing,” I told her, smiling warmly. I was trying to break down the ice I saw reflecting off her features.
“Didn’t you get my note?” Marilyn asked in a firm tone.
Yes, I did, but I’m not going to let you know that.
“Note? Not yet. What note?” I played dumb and watched her face twist into a disapproving glare.
“I slipped a note under your door a few hours ago,” she said, obviously becoming uneasy thinking I hadn’t read that she never wanted to discuss last night again. It was fun watching her become uneasy. She started fidgeting in her seat, crossing her legs, then uncrossing them, and playing with the tag on the towel, rolling it around between her fingers nervously.