Unfortunately, Josie’s making it really fucking hard to find her. Her phone’s turned off, every call going straight to her voicemail. I even drove over to the resort she and I had stayed in the other night. She’s already checked out, and the front desk receptionist wouldn’t give me any other information.
I swear to God, I’m not usually a violent man, but, screw it, when I get my hands on Chance, I’m going to beat him within an inch of his life. Damn him and disregard for common fucking sense.
I’d had to take the stage with the rest of the group a few hours ago, despite wanting to do nothing more than go after Josie, find her, and explain everything. But, I had a contract to fulfill, and the reasons for me being able to miss a scheduled show were limited, and they certainly didn’t include tearing through the city in search of a woman who hates my guts. Getting slapped with a lawsuit for breech of contract wouldn’t help anyone.
Doing the show had cost me precious time. It’d also given Josie ample time to pack her stuff up and disappear. Chances are, she’s with one of her girlfriends at one of the hotels on the Strip. There’s an even better chance that she and those women are cursing me a blue streak, calling me every name in the book and telling Josie that it’s my loss, not hers.
That doesn’t mean I’m not going to burn this city down in search of her.
I slam my fist into the column that holds the concrete awning up outside the hotel’s main entrance. I’ve never been so frustrated in my entire life. I’ve also never felt so fucking useless.
I talk a mean game, but the fact of the matter is that Sin City is a big goddamn place. An overcrowded place. Josie’s a needle in a haystack here, and I’m running out of time. Christ, she leaves to go back home tomorrow.
I’m still hissing under my breath at the sting of my banged-up knuckles when I realize what my best chance is.
Maybe I won’t have to turn this city upside down, after all.
Maybe, just maybe, Josie will come to me, instead of me having to come to her. I just have to be in the right place at the right time.
With a renewed sense of hope, I pull out my phone and start dialing.
11
Josie
This trip was supposed to be fun. A chance for me to get out of my shell a bit and spend a little time with my friends before everything changed now that we’d closed the chapter on our college lives.
Well, one thing’s for sure. Everything’s definitely changed. The jury’s still out on whether it’s for the better or worse.
After that shirtless dancer backstage told me about Derek’s secret family, I went back to my hotel room, packed my things, and got the hell out of there. I didn’t need Derek finding out I’d been there, then showing up and pouring salt in the wound he’d left on my pride.
And my heart. Damn it, I hated that he’d managed to worm his way into having me give a damn about him. Having me think that maybe he was different, that maybe he really was interested in more than just one sinful night in Vegas.
I hated it then, and I despise it now. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.
It was a crushing blow to my pride to have to show up at Beth’s hotel room, too. She’d been a good friend and not mentioned my indiscretions to anyone else, just like she’d promised, but the moment the tears started to fall, much to the rest of my friends’ dismay, there was no hiding what had happened. I told them all everything—beginning with the moment I realized the sexy guy at the pool was actually Sexy-Dance Derek, to the moment I fled from the Excalibur only hours ago after finding out just how horrible my decisions have really been.
Beth and my friends tried to hide it as best they could, but it was written on their faces. They weren’t just shocked, they were floored. In all the years we’d gone to school together, not once had I done anything that would be considered outlandish, let alone risky. If bets had been placed as to which of us would do something that happened in Vegas and needed to stay the fuck in Vegas, I can guarantee I’d have been at the bottom of that list. I wasn’t a gambler or a risk-taker.
And now I know why. Because I’m horrible at it.
Nausea rolls around in my stomach again at the thought that there’s a woman out there somewhere who doesn’t know what her husband did with me a few nights ago. I’m disgusted by the mere mental image of Derek.
“This is your stop, ma’am.”
The cab driver’s voice cuts through my muddled thoughts. I glance out the window. Jesus, I’d been stuck in my head for the entire trip to the airport. The driver must think I’m a total snob.
I pay him, offering him the biggest sincere smile I can muster, but it must not reach my eyes because he just nods when he takes the bills from my hand.
“You have a good day now,” he says in an sympathetic tone. He’s already shifting the car into drive as I pull my luggage out of the backseat and slam the door.
Too late for that, I think as I wheel my luggage through the sliding doors into the airport.
I’m leaving Las Vegas to escape it now, something I’ve never done before. Hell, I changed my ticket to a flight leaving two hours before the one I was originally supposed to be on, just because I couldn’t stand to stay in this godforsaken city any longer. I’ve never been one to run from anything. Then again, I’ve never done anything so shameful that I’ve had to run from it.
First time for everything.
I glance up at the signs suspended from the ceiling. I’ve got more than enough time to make it through the security line, and I relish the thought that I’ll have time to grab a coffee and just sit in peace for a bit before boarding the plane. I could do with a little bit of peace.