She had always wanted to be wild and impulsive with her man. She actually dreamt of it often, but Winston didn’t inspire that in her. She had thought, because she’d met him in Europe, that he was adventurous, but he wasn’t. Not in the least. He told her he was a businessman and he wanted her to look a certain way. To dress a certain way. He even gave her a list of people he insisted she “meet” and “cultivate” as friends. When she questioned him, he told her he wanted to make certain she moved in the right circles and she needed to just let him guide her.
Soleil glanced at herself in the mirror one more time. She wished she could be like Lana. Tall. Gorgeous. Perfectly in control. She wore her jeans and vest like royalty. No one would dare lay their hands on her unless she wanted them to. Soleil shoved her phone into the little pocket of the sundress she wore and kept her hand there, holding on for just a minute to the stranger who had shown her kindness.
She had tried to get Winston to be adventurous, at least in bed. Something other than his roll on top of her and roll off again while she lay staring at the ceiling wondering if that was all there was to love and living together. How would she know? She’d never witnessed a real relationship. Neither aunt had been married, and Kevin had talked to her via text most of the time.
She straightened her shoulders and imagined herself to be Lana. Lana wasn’t about to put up with a man who didn’t satisfy her or listen to her in bed. She would never let him scare her into marriage. She’d tell him it was over. That was exactly what Soleil was going to do.
Soleil glanced at the woman who held out a small, immaculate towel for her to dry her hands for the third time. “She’s right, isn’t she?” she asked her.
The attendant glanced around the large gold and ivory bathroom, making certain no one could see or hear her give advice, and then she nodded.
Feeling empowered, Soleil smiled at her and left. She had to ask the outside attendant the way to the elevators, but she found them. Then she had to talk to another attendant there, and he escorted her to the proper one. She was in a suite at the top of the tower. She slid her flat gold key into the elevator and took the ride up to her rooms. There were only four suites at the top of the tower. Her room was directly across from the elevator access.
She was used to the best hotels and often had a suite, but this luxury suite was so over the top and ridiculous for the two of them when they planned on being in Vegas just for a couple of nights. Winston had insisted, and she’d found herself going along with his plans, just as she had ever since Kevin Bennet had died.
The suite was nearly two thousand square feet with a gleaming grand piano in the middle of the marble floor. Glass walls gave them a view of Las Vegas that was unparalleled. A fireplace and wet bar added to the ambience in the room. The balcony stretched out for what seemed forever, curving around the building so they could enjoy the sun and breeze. Winston had told her she deserved the best and he wanted her to have it. It was too much.
He’d been rude to the staff at the hotel, complaining about everything. That was the only way to get people to come up to the right standards, he’d told her, and she’d have to learn to deal with those in menial labor positions. They’d argued over that as well until he’d just shut her down by telling her she was too young and naïve to understand how the world worked. In business and politics, one had to assert themselves at all times. Eventually, he planned to go into politics, and he needed a wife trained to handle anything.
Most of this mess was her fault and she had to place the blame directly on her own shoulders. She had let Winston run her life when she’d been without direction. She still had no idea what she wanted to do, but it wasn’t marrying a man she wasn’t happy with. She was tense all the time and found she was getting headaches when she’d never been prone to them.
When had he changed? He’d been funny and attentive, listening to everything she said in the art gallery and on the plane. She’d thought they had so much in common, but once he’d actually managed to get her to go out with him, the changes had started. At first, they were subtle. He didn’t like a certain outfit, and would she mind changing? He didn’t like her boots, they made her look too young. Why would she wear that short denim jacket when she had some really beautiful jackets? She should have noticed sooner instead of trying to please him.