The reporter wanted to ask more, but I turned to Aldous. "Is this your wife?"
Aldous stepped in front of the reporter, effectively shutting him out from further conversation. "Tia, I would like you to meet Kya Allen. Kya, this is my lovely wife, Tia."
"It is so nice to meet you, Kya. I've heard a lot about you," Tia said. She was older, mid-forties, though it was impossible to tell from her flawless olive skin and shining black hair.
"You've heard about me?" I looked at Aldous. "I can't imagine what you must think of me."
"I think we have a lot in common," Tia said. She shooed Aldous over to talk with Kev and sat down next to me. "Aldous and I met when I was around your age. He was on the boxing circuit. I, believe it or not, was dating an accountant who tried to save himself from being boring by going to boxing matches."
"I don't think I can see Aldous having a wild streak, but I bet he was an amazing boxer," I said.
"Yes, very clean-cut and very fair. That's why he was never a fan favorite and also why he's such a great coach," Tia said. "He's been with Fenton so many years, they are starting to feel like family. So, when he mentioned that Fenton wants to settle here in Vegas for a while, I was overjoyed."
"You wouldn't mind moving?" I asked.
"Not at all. If it means I see my husband every night instead of a few weeknights here and there throughout the month," Tia said. "I should thank you for putting the idea
in Fenton's head."
"Oh, I'm not sure it was me," I said. I looked across the room to where Fenton danced with three women.
"Give yourself some credit," Tia said. She patted my hand.
Even as I watched Fenton draped with women, my heart was buoyed up by the thought that meeting me had encouraged him to find a home base and try settling down. I clung to thought and nurtured it into a small spark of hope.
I held on to it all throughout the promotion party, even though Fenton never spoke to me. He only glanced my way a few times. I waited until I saw him leave the nightclub and then I took the very long way back to my suite at the Tropicana. My stomach was in knots as I approached the door, only to discover it was worse than I had imagined.
Fenton was gone. The second bedroom was completely packed up and a maid was stripping the sheets.
"Did he say where he was going?" I asked.
She shook her head. "But the porter said his stuff was going to the MGM Grand."
My hand was on the door handle when there was a soft knock. I pulled the door open to discover Sienna. It was shocking to see here without the blinding orbit of her television camera crew. Instead, it was just her, the long blonde hair tied back in a neat ponytail and her blue eyes soft without the heavy dose of eyeliner.
"Is Fenton here?" she asked.
My chest burned. "No. He wants to be alone the night before a big fight," I said.
Sienna was not surprised at the bite of jealousy in my words. "I just wanted to tell him thank you. If you see him, will you let him know I said so?"
"Thank him for what?" I asked. I squeezed my eyes shut and raised my face to the ceiling. When I opened them, I looked back at Sienna. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, I get it. And it's not what you think. Just tell Fenton thank you," Sienna said.
She looked so slim and lonely as she headed back to the elevators. "What, no camera crew?"
Sienna turned back to me. "I took the afternoon off. I needed a little time to recoup – I mean, relax."
"Well, if you want to relax off camera, why don't you come in? Once the maid's gone, I'll have an empty suite. There's a bottle of wine." I held the door open.
The reality star hesitated, looked at the elevator, and then at the open suite door. "Sure, why not. I could use a glass of wine."
The maid had tidied the second bedroom until it looked as if no one had occupied it in weeks. I kept looking at it as I opened the wine and almost spilled all over the white rug.
"Here, let me do that," Sienna said. She expertly handled the wine opener and had two glasses poured in seconds. "I used to be a waitress; it’s a necessary skill if I wanted good tips."
"You were a waitress?" I asked. "I always assumed you had a trust fund or something."