Page 102 of Last Summer

“Bye, Nathan.” She turns to leave, then stops. Tipping her head toward the manila folder, she says, “Read it. You’ll see how I see you.” As a man who loved his wife and as a father who gave his son the best possible life. She won’t give Nathan her love, but she can give him her words. Hopefully, through them, he’ll find the peace he seeks. The strength to reconcile with himself.

CHAPTER 34

The following day, Ella sits on the stool that gives her the best view in Lobby Bar at the ARIA Resort. She arrived late last night after leaving Nathan’s place and checked into the same room Damien had when they first met. She debated meeting at Luna’s, but the café often gets too noisy. She also considered inviting Damien home, where they could “find each other again.” In the end, Ella decided on Las Vegas. If they’re truly going to start over the right way, by being open and honest with each other, she wants to be where it all began.

This time, she’s not wearing a revealing slip dress and downing cocktails. The black crepe jumpsuit and cognac-colored wedges are casual and classy, more aligned with her tastes. The glass of ice water sitting on the cocktail napkin is a wiser choice than the bourbon on ice she could go for. She needs to keep a clear head.

Damien texted thirty minutes ago that he had landed. She hasn’t seen him in over a week and she can’t stop looking around for him. Gamblers gather at tables, tossing dice. Bells ring from slot machines. Techno music pulses like a throbbing vein through the entire floor. She feels the beat inside her rib cage. Her hand shakes when she takes a sip of water. Everything about her marriage and a future with Damien rides on this next hour.

She misses him, even aches for his embrace. She wants to see his smile and hear his voice. There’s so much she wants with Damien.

And there he is.

Ella watches him weave through the lounge chairs and her heart races. He’s taken off his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. His suit fits him perfectly and he looks so much like he did when she first saw him here four years ago. She feels as if she’s falling in love all over again.

She slides off the stool and slips her arms around him when he reaches her. “I’ve missed you,” she says, resting her cheek against his chest. She breathes in his scent, the starch of his shirt, and the Giorgio Armani cologne she gifted him on their anniversary, and her nerves settle. Just a little.

Damien takes a moment to react, but he finally wraps his arms around her. He rests his cheek on her head.

“El.” Her name is a sigh.

She wishes she could stay within the warm confines of his arms for the rest of the day, but there’s a reason she asked him to come. She moves out of his embrace and Damien looks at her, wary. “What’s going on?”

She didn’t tell him anything when she called. Only that she wanted to talk and for him to meet her in Vegas.

“Can I get you a drink, sir?”

The bartender’s timing isn’t ideal and Damien shoots him an irritated look before tipping his head at Ella’s glass. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

“One water coming up.”

“Water?” Damien lifts his brows and Ella gives him a slight smile.

“There’s so much I have to tell you.” She smooths his white shirt with a shaking hand.

Damien stills her hand, holding it to his chest. “You’re nervous.”

She nods.

“Me too,” he says with a hint of a smile.

“You’re never nervous.”

“This time I am.” He lets go of her hand and drinks his water. “Why’d you have me come here? We could have met at home.”

Home. Her heart flutters with hope. “I know this will seem over the top, but I have a point. I got us a room. Will you come up with me?”

“Ella, I...” He turns his face away, taps a finger on the bar before looking at her again. “I would love nothing more than to take you upstairs and make love with you, but I...” He shakes his head, eyes sad. “I can’t.”

“Oh, no! That’s not what I meant,” she exclaims, flustered. “I want to talk, Damien, that’s all. No expectations. I brought us here because I’m hoping we can start over, for real this time. No memory manipulation involved.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding slowly.

“Great.” Ella smiles. She gathers her clutch and keycard off the bar and leads them to the bank of elevators. As they walk, Damien’s fingertips skim the curve of her lower back, sending a current through her, arousing her. But once they step inside the elevator and the doors slide closed, he pockets his hands. He even maintains a polite distance between them and Ella has to fight the impulse to move closer.

She presses the button to their floor and, once they’re there, swipes the keycard against the door latch panel.

“This is the same room,” Damien observes when they walk into the suite.

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