The One Who Got Away (13 page)

Across the way was one of those old-fashioned shoeshine stands, but there was no attendant. And besides, he was wearing tennis shoes. A bellman studied
his manicure, leaning against his podium. That was the total action, and Ben was most grateful.

He reached down to his belt and lifted his cell phone from the holster, flipped it open and used speed dial. He wasn't sure why he was calling Alyson, but he didn't hang up. She answered after four rings.

“Hey, it's me.”

“Hi,” she said. “I thought you were on vacation.”

“I am. I'm in Vegas, ostensibly looking for a giant hot dog and a cheap beer.”

“You must be thrilled.”

“Actually, I'm having a pretty good time. Except I'm not sure Steve should be getting married.”

“You don't think anyone should get married.”

He sighed. “Why did we?”

She didn't say anything for a while. “Are you sure you didn't already locate that cheap beer?”

“No, Alyson, I'm sober as a judge. And I need your help. Why is it we got married?”

“Because we loved each other.”

“We did, didn't we?”

“Yes. And in a lot of ways, I think we still do.”

“Just not that way.”

She chuckled. “No. But you're still one of my best friends.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“So why are you asking me this? Existential angst? The nearness of someone in love?”

“Both. Neither. I'm here with Taylor. Steve's sister.”

“Right, you've mentioned her.”

“She used to have a really big crush on me.”

“And?”

“I think it might still be there.”

“Oh.”

“And I think I might have one on her.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah. But I'm not sure. About anything.”

“Tell you what, Benny. Do me a favor. Give it a minute. Stick with the confusion. I know you hate it, but before there can be any good decisions, confusion has to be dealt with. So don't run.”

“I can't run. I'm the best man.”

“Good. And here's something else. Do not, let me repeat, do not, let my sexual orientation be your excuse. I'll hate you if you do that.”

“I won't.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

After another long silence where he thought he'd lost her, he heard a gentle sigh. “You're one of the good guys, Ben. As scared as you are of all this love business, I can't think of anyone on earth who deserves it more than you. You're good in love, sweetie. If it hadn't been for, you know, I wouldn't have let you go for all the tea in China. So hang in there.”

He smiled, appreciating the white lie. “You sure this whole lesbian thing isn't just a phase?”

She laughed. “I gotta go. Be good. I love you.”

“You, too. And, thanks.”

He clicked off the connection and settled back into the soft sofa. Love? It wasn't that serious. God, no. Like? Sure. Lust? Oh, yeah. But not love. He wasn't about to go there with Taylor or anyone.

He simply hadn't realized a person in lust could get so jealous.

T
AYLOR WOKE UP
disoriented, unsure whether it was day or night or where she was. Unfortunately, that lasted only a second or two, then she realized she was in the hotel and that Ben had been utterly present in her fitful dreams.

It had been a long time since her emotions had been this rattled. Years. Not that she didn't have the most normal of lives, with work problems and victories, friends who were all too human, men issues. But it occurred to her that she'd actually designed her life to have very few real problems.

She sat up, pushing the big pillows against the headboard. She didn't turn on the light. The dark was better suited to this line of thought.

Staring into the dim room, she focused instead on the patterns of her adult life, and what she saw was as startling as Ben's cheekbones. She really had built herself a nice little safe nest.

Her job challenged her, but in the end, she wasn't responsible for the individual cases. Someone else, the attorneys she worked for, had their heads on the chopping block. She did research mostly, typed up legal briefs, ran errands. She lived within her means,
not getting herself into trouble there, but also not risking anything to get ahead.

Her friends, and she had a comfortable group, weren't the kind she'd had in high school. Back then, it was all about heart-to-heart talks, intimate confessions, deep discoveries. She played poker with these guys, went to movies and plays. Talked about sex.

The closest thing she had to real intimacy was in her Eve's Apple online group, people she'd never seen in the flesh. And all she had to do to bow out of that gang was stop answering.

Sobered and unsettled, she clicked on the bedside lamp. The light made her wince, but it wasn't half as jarring as the glaring illumination on her life.

Come to think of it, Cade had been a perfect example of who she'd become. Nice guy, good-looking, not threatening in the least, but she hadn't been interested at all. If Ben hadn't been in the picture, she might have gone for drinks with him, had a few laughs. Who knows, she might have had vacation sex. But she would have done all that because he didn't live in her neck of the woods. Because he was a vacation guy. Because it meant she didn't have to get involved.

A chill passed through her and she brought the covers up to her chin. Oh, God. What if she had this whole thing with Ben all wrong? What if she'd used him, all these years, as an excuse? Sure, the sex had been great, but was that really it? Or was he just convenient? So she didn't have to think, or risk, or try. Not once, in all those years had she put herself on the
line. She'd never loved anyone. She'd never even let herself get close.

And now that Ben was back, were her feelings for him real? Did she even know him? More importantly, did she know herself? What did she really want from him? Ten more years of excuses? Or were her feelings for him genuine, and he hadn't been an excuse at all, but a reason.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. In two hours she had to be down in the lobby to meet the wedding party for the fancy dinner Lisa's mother was throwing. Picasso's. Elegant and expensive as hell, she had to look great.

Throwing back the covers, she padded to the bathroom. She'd brought some wonderful lavender bath beads with her, and a mud mask for her face. At the same time, she would do a deep conditioning treatment on her hair, and she might even have time to change her nail polish.

But just after she turned on the water in the big bathtub, she went into the living room and got the small radio from the shelf. Taking it into the bath, she put it on the sink and found a radio station that played the oldies. She didn't want to think.

 

“H
EY
, S
TEVE
. Call me. We've got some time to kill before dinner, so let's kill it with a vengeance, what do you say? I'm on my cell.”

Ben hung up, wondering if Steve really was busy or if he was avoiding him. He'd undoubtedly assumed Taylor had shared about the pill incident. Steve taking pills. The only thing that would sort of make sense
was if the pills were Viagra, but that didn't seem likely. To the best of his knowledge Steve had never had problems in that area, but what the hell did Ben know?

He didn't know squat. About himself, about his life, about Taylor. He was a man who was all about digging into other people's lives and avoiding his own.

It was time to leave the soft comfort of the red couch. Hours had passed as he'd observed the comings and goings of the people at this little hotel/casino. Older folks, mainly, but mixed in with kids he would have carded in a heartbeat. He'd made up lives for many of them, certain that he was miles off the mark, but he didn't care. It was a way to pass the time. A way to stop thinking.

But always, he'd come back to Taylor, and he couldn't make up a life for her, even though he desperately wanted to force her into a safe, comfortable cubbyhole, easily dismissed when he went back to the real world.

Something had happened to him last night. Something he couldn't explain. When he'd been inside her, he'd felt…different.

Damn, he wasn't good at soul searching. Mostly, he was good at bullshit, but what she'd done to him wasn't that. Not even close. She'd made him feel things he hadn't felt before. New territory. He hated new territory.

What it meant, he had no idea. That he cared for her? Yeah, that much was true. He did care. But what the hell did that mean?

He liked how he was with her. The whole time sitting here, some part of him had wished she'd been next to him. He wanted to talk about all the people he saw, share his observations, and more perplexing, hear hers.

Him. The loner. Who preferred dinner solo, who liked the quiet of his apartment, with his fish his only obligation.

Even when he'd been with Alyson, he'd never had this strong a desire for her company. In fact, what made them work as long as they had was their separate lives. They got together, sure, but mostly for the odd dinner, and of course, the bedroom. The demands there had been minimal, and only lately had he admitted that it hadn't bothered him near enough.

Alyson had been more of a buddy than a wife, and when she'd left, he'd been upset, sure, but also relieved. That was the real truth, wasn't it? He'd been glad to have a place to himself. Accountable to no one.

Maybe that's what had attracted him to her in the first place. He could have the comfort of a steady woman, without any of the real work a relationship required.

What did that say about him? That he was a selfish son of a bitch? Well, yeah, that was a given. But there was more. He felt it, he just couldn't pin it down.

And why was he worrying about it now? What was it about being with Taylor that had him questioning his motives, his lifestyle?

He walked into the casino and headed right for a video poker machine. Fishing out a twenty, he played
for a while, hitting a pretty good jackpot, four fours with a kicker, early on, so he didn't have to think about much. He just stared at the cards as they came up. He made it a game to see how fast he could hit the buttons without screwing up. The machine took him away, and that's just where he wanted to be. Away.

But not forever. Because between the aces and the kings, there was Taylor. Beckoning. The scent of her hair, the look in those astonishing blue eyes. She pulled at him, tugged at his heart with her gentle laughter.

By the time he was back down to his original twenty, it was late. He only had forty minutes to get back to the hotel, get dressed and meet everyone for dinner.

Whatever else was going to happen, tonight would be interesting. He had no idea what he was going to say to Taylor. Only that he wanted to see her. And he needed to get Steve alone, too.

He cashed out, letting the quarters drop into the white plastic bucket. He'd catch a cab to the hotel. They had to get dressed up tonight. Crap.

 

T
HE ROOM REEKED
of class and money. And gorgeous art. Picassos dotted the walls, real ones. Of course, the restaurant was Picasso's at Bellagio, one of the most elegant venues in all of Las Vegas. Taylor could see it was going to be an experience to remember.

She tore her gaze away from Ben to check out the details of the place, but it wasn't easy. He'd worn this gorgeous dark suit, slim slacks and perfect one-button
jacket. Underneath was a slate-gray, distressed silk shirt with a matching matte silk tie. The man was to die for, and every woman they'd passed had proved it.

But, she really did want to look around. The room was huge, although somehow it also managed to feel intimate. The floor-to-ceiling windows with incredible gossamer drapes framed the water show in front of the Bellagio. The dancing fountains were amazing, and she'd made it a point to walk by at least once every visit. Tonight, no matter where they sat, they'd get an unbelievable view. Inside was just as spectacular. On the muted walls were displayed a collection of Picasso's original artwork. She'd seen prints of some of his etchings and paintings but they paled before the spectacular power of the originals.

They were taken to their large table in the back by a smartly attired maitre' d, who wasn't, thank goodness, in the least condescending or snooty. In fact, he looked like someone she'd like to play cards with.

Ben pulled her seat out for her, and when she got in position, he discretely sniffed her neck. Oddly, it was an incredibly erotic moment, and she got a little swept away, but Lisa's mother brought her back into the room, pronto.

“We thought it would be nice to go for the prix fixe menu, although if you want you can get the de-gustation menu, which is, of course, more of a tasting thing, but I hear it's wonderful. And if no one minds, I'd like the sommelier to help with the wines. Go ahead and order cocktails, though. It's going to be a long evening, so we might as well live it up. Daddy's
paying for all this, so the sky's the limit, isn't that right, sweetheart?”

Lisa, who looked beautiful in a classy black dress that showed off her figure and also showed off the exquisite gold necklace around her neck, laughed along with her mom.

Poor dad. She already knew the meal was going to be way up in the hundreds. Oh, well. Steve seemed happy. Kind of.

He kept losing his smile. One second he'd seem joyful and thrilled to be right where he was, and the next second the happiness would simply melt away and he'd be blank. Not morose, not angry. Just nothing. But that never lasted. Whenever Lisa spoke to him or glanced his way, the smile came right back.

Pauline, seated between her and Steve, seemed slightly bemused by the whole evening. Not that she hadn't been to fancy restaurants in her time. Her mother traveled, especially when she'd been younger. Taylor suspected her distraction was due to her concern about Steve.

Ben had been the picture of attention since they'd met at the Hard Rock lobby. It was as if this afternoon had never happened. He greeted her with a sizzling, if short, kiss, and had been wonderfully attentive and complimentary. He really did seem to like her dress. It was another Michael Kors, which she never could have afforded if it hadn't been at a resale shop. The python print felt daring, and the fact that it was basically a tube dress that hit her about midthigh, helped, too. She'd gone with leather pumps in dark gray to match the dress, five inch heels, no less. Being
so tall, she'd worn her hair unadorned so it fell straight down her back. And she'd brought her little purse, the one that wasn't so much a purse as a leather baggie.

The waiter came by with menus, and it took them all a moment to ohh and ahh, but finally, they decided to go with the prix fixe. Which meant they had choices. Taylor started with the warm quail salad with sautéed artichokes and pine nuts. Ben had the poached oysters.

And then it was cocktail time, and she went for a straightforward martini. So did Ben. She smiled as he finished his request, and when he turned to her, his gaze locked on hers. Her entire body responded. Not just her breath catching, which it did, but her head felt lighter, her eyes as if the rest of the room had dimmed. Her breasts tightened, her tummy did, too. As for what was happening below the waist, she didn't dare dwell on that. She had a whole, long dinner to get through.

“You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen,” Ben said, his voice just above a whisper and completely private. “I can't believe I get to sit with you, talk with you.”

She blushed, even while she acknowledged how over the top the words were. She felt the same way. That she was privileged to be with him, that the way he looked at her was a gift.

She leaned closer to him, so her lips were near his ear. “I just want to get something cleared up before we're busy with dinner and wedding plans.”

He smiled.

“I'd like to do that thing again tonight.”

“That thing?”

She nodded. “You know. That thing we did last night?”

“Oh,” he said. “
That
thing.”

“Yeah.”

He turned so their lips almost met, but didn't. “I'm pretty sure that could be arranged.”

“Good.”

“Not yet. But it will be.”

She placed her hand gently on his thigh. The muscle twitched beneath her palm. “You do know you're driving me crazy, right?”

“Ditto.”

“Excellent. I didn't want to be the only one.”

“Hey,” Steve said, butting right in. “You guys do that hanky-panky junk later. Tonight's for my girl. She's our star, right?”

Lisa lit up. Her sparkling white teeth practically glowed in the candlelight. She kissed Steve on the cheek. “You're such a mensch.”

Taylor and Ben burst out laughing. The word, coming from Lisa, was so unexpected and, well, crazy. It actually took them a while to calm down. But she took it like a champ.

“I'm not from another century,” she said. “Just another state.”