Page 9 of Solid Ground

“I’m going to get us a drink,” Declan says. “There are some bottles of water in the mini bar. I’ll grab two of those.”

“You promised me champagne.”

He grins. “I did, but if you want to avoid a hangover …”

“I’ll sleep all day tomorrow.”

Shrugging, he turns toward the bar in the corner. “In that case, there’s a bottle of champagne with our names on it.”

I laugh as I make my way across the room toward the large windows.

It’s crazy enough to be in Vegas, but the penthouse suite is a whole other level to the room I’m sharing with Caitlin. The lighting is low, and the view of The Strip below is full of vibrant, bright colour.

Declan stands behind the bar, pouring champagne as I stare out the window. I’m not sure I could ever live anywhere as busy and bright as Las Vegas, but I’m glad my trip out here wasn’t a complete waste.

Caitlin is going to hate herself in the morning. We’re here for one more night, but I think tomorrow will be quiet in comparison to this.

“The view is amazing, huh?” Declan approaches from behind and I turn to accept a champagne flute.

“Incredible.”

“Looks pretty good from here too.”

I turn. He’s right behind me, and he leans down to nuzzle my neck. He cups my right breast with his free hand and my nipples get up and dance in response.

I want him.

But even after coming all over his hand in the limo, I’m a little uncertain—even shy. I’m the type of person who usually keeps to herself. Caitlin and I met when I ventured out of my apartment for a meal and a drink, and she’s so confident that she inserted herself into my life at first. It turned out wewere neighbours. If she hadn’t forced the issue, I would be a recluse, happy in my apartment writing code and making apps. But I’m glad she did—and not just because it led me here.

He takes me by the hand and leads me to the couch where he pulls me down onto his lap.

“One drink, and then we’ll take the bottle to bed,” he says.

“I like that idea.”

We clink our glasses together.

“So, what are you doing in Vegas?” I ask.

“Like I told you earlier, letting off steam.” He sits beside me, stretching his long legs out, and then takes a sip of his drink. “I’m retiring from acting.”

“Whoa.” I twist toward him, propping myself against the back of the couch with my elbow. “That’s a big decision. You’re notthatold.”

He chuckles. “I’m done. My career’s in the crapper, and I’d like to get out with some dignity.”

“I’m sorry.”

Regret flickers across his features, but it’s gone as fast as it arrives. “I’m ready to move on. But I’m not sure what I’m going to do. How about you? You mentioned maybe going back to New Zealand?”

I nod. “I’m two years into a three year contract. Once that’s up, I’m not sure what I’m doing next. I’m not sure whether I should find something else to do here, or go home.”

His smile is lopsided. “I’m not a good source for advice—if I knew what I was doing, I wouldn’t be in the position I’min. But if I were you, I’d look at all the pros and cons of either decision.”

“Is that what you did when you decided to retire?”

He places his glass on the coffee table.

“In a way. I just made a movie with some crazy talented people, and it’ll barely see the light of day. No premiere, no chance of winning any awards. I cash the cheque and it’ll sink like a stone.” He sighs. “I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to be happy again.”

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