“Yeah,” she said through tight lips, her heels clicking against the sidewalk, punctuating every awkward, uncomfortable moment between them.
Once inside the hotel, Julia looked around for signs for the Blue Ribbon. Like every other hotel on the Strip this was mammoth, and the casino threatened to ensnare you. She’d already been ensnared by one today, thank you very much. She’d like to stay away from the cha-ching of slots and the slap-slap-slap of the cards on the tables.
Fortunately this hotel was all about its ambiance. The lobby screamed ultramodern with its cool black and silver design, geometric patterns, and light displays. Mirrored walls, and columns in cubic styles with funky, silhouetted art added to the flare.
“This way,” Clay said, pointing to the right.
She walked alongside him, scanning the surroundings—the glitter and too-cool-for-school feel of this place reminded her of the hipster bar she’d run in San Francisco.
The sexy, sleek, sensory feel of this hotel had some strange calming effect on her. Or maybe it was a blotting out. She needed to let go of her self-pity party. So he hadn’t meant it when he’d asked her to marry him while they fucked. So what? He’d rescued her from a mobster with a marble loose earlier in the day.
A red neon light flashed at her from around the corner, and when she reached it, she stopped to look. A metal heart hung high on the black wall. In the middle of the heart were the words I promise to love you in red neon.
Her damn heart fluttered against her better judgment. The heart really was a wonderful invention, and a thoroughly dumb beast too. She felt him brush his fingers lightly through the ends of her hair. “That’s how I feel for you,” he said, and rather than be frustrated that he wasn’t ready to marry her, she chose to be grateful for the sentiment.
“Me too,” she said, looking him in the eyes—albeit briefly—for the first time since they’d left the suite. He reached for her hand, and brought it to his lips, brushing a soft and gentle kiss there. A tingle rushed over her skin from his touch. It scared her sometimes how easily and how much she felt for him.
“I’m famished,” she said, needing to shift gears.
“All right, let’s get some food in you, woman,” he said, and they picked up the pace through the casino on the way to the Blue Ribbon. But before they reached it, a stunning array of lights greeted them.
“Holy shit,” she said, her jaw dropping at the purple light that streamed through a gigantic chandelier in the middle of the casino. Only it was more than a chandelier. It was thousands upon thousands of beads of lights draped down from the ceiling, forming an oval curtain of glitter and sparkle that beckoned them.
“That’s the Chandelier Bar. Want to get a drink?”
“I’m starving, but oh my God, that just speaks to my bartender’s heart like nothing I’ve seen before. What a gorgeous and ostentatious display,” she said, bringing her hand to her chest.
He laughed. “Apt description, and that’s only the entrance. Let’s go in.”
They walked up the steps and into the open bar area, a truly opulent and unique place that would make the Phantom of the Opera jealous judging from the crystal creation that hung above the bar itself. “It’s like those beaded curtains that hang down in dorm rooms. Only, you know, not cheesy and tacky,” she said.
“Nope. Not tacky at all. Just a spectacle, like this whole city. Gotta say, places like this are part and parcel of why I love Vegas,” he said, when they reached the packed bar. There were only two free seats, and he pulled out one of those stools for her. “This place is all about flash and size and I’ll build a bigger one. But somehow the city thrives on that. The kind of one ups-manship that brings you things like this—a bar made out of a chandelier.”
Soon, a pretty young thing with a sleek blond chignon glided over to them, and asked for their order. Clay gestured to Julia. “Belvedere on the rocks, please.”
“And for you?” the woman asked.
“Macallan,” he answered.
“Coming up shortly,” she said and walked away. Clay turned to face Julia. He cleared his throat, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw the barest of nerves flash in his eyes. “So, I have something for you.”
Her heart dared to flutter, like a baby bird trying out its wings. She simultaneously wanted to swat her heart, and encourage it to fly again. “Oh, you do?” she said, giving him a playful look. This was so much better—she’d rather enjoy herself with him than be pissed over what hadn’t happened. Yet.
“I do, but I forgot to order ice. One second.”