Page 3 of Solid Ground

She glances at her friend. “I don’t really want to make a scene. Caitlin’s fiancé is kind of famous and …”

“It’s okay. You’re staying at the Bellagio?”

She nods.

“Let’s get her out of here.”

Caitlin looks up. “Ohh I know you who are.” Caitlin giggles and points. “Zoe, it’s Declan O’Leary.”

I grin. “Good spotting.”

“My mom loves you.”

Zoe snorts, and I shift my gaze to her, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry for my friend. She’s so good at putting her foot in her mouth. Especially when she’s wasted.”

I shrug. “It’s fine. We all have bad nights. I’ve had a few myself.” Shifting my gaze to Caitlin, I tilt my head. “Can you walk?”

In response, I get another peal of laughter, and Zoe rolls her eyes.

“Come on, you,” she says.

I lean down. “Wrap your arm around my shoulders, sweetheart. I’ll help you.”

“I can’t believe Declan O’Leary is helping me to my room.” She giggles again and Zoe and I help her to her feet.

“I’ve got her,” I say to Zoe, but as we leave the bar and approach the elevators, it becomes increasingly obvious that I don’t have her. Her legs buckle out from underneath her, and it takes a lot of extra effort to hold her up.

Zoe presses the button and a door opens. After stepping into the elevator, I sweep Caitlin up into my arms. At least she won’t stumble now.

The elevator starts to move.

“Thank you so much for this,” Zoe says. “I doubt she’ll remember much in the morning. So much for our first trip to Vegas.”

“How did she get so drunk? The bars are usually more careful.”

Zoe shrugs. “Too much too fast. I was pacing myself because we’re here for two nights, but she had other ideas. She’s also not very good at handling her booze.”

Now we’re in the quiet, I can hear Zoe better. Her accent’s definitely not American. I’ve worked with Australians before, and it’s not that. Maybe New Zealand?

“You’re not from around here.”

She grins. “What gave it away?”

“Well …”

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I follow Zoe down the hallway until we come to a stop outside a room.

It’s much smaller than my own, and there are two matching queen-size beds. Zoe points me toward the one closest to the windows.

As I dip to place Caitlin on the mattress, she falls face-first and laughs. I turn to leave, and by the time I’ve reached the door, a loud snore comes from the other side of the room.

Zoe and I share a bemused glance.

“So much for partying the night away,” Zoe says.

“Was that the plan?”

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