Page 2 of The Vegas Rerun
Tonight is my night off.
I went for dinner with a couple of the other waitresses who were off work too and then came back to my room. I was tempted to go and have a drink in the bar, but I knew it would be obvious why and I didn’t want to be teased by the other staff, so I decided against it.
I kind of regret that decision now.
I’ve just woken up and I’m still lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what tall, dark and handsome is doing. If he’s thinking about me the way I’m thinking about him. I could have made a move last night or the night before. I could have gone to the bar for one drink before bed. Or I could have slipped him my number, given him something to remember me by.
The idea of giving him my number sticks in my head like an itch I can’t scratch, because I realize it’s still possible. I sit up, my heart racing. I know his room number. He paid with a card, and I saw it on the till when I closed out his tab, and yes, I remembered it. Not because I was planning on going there or anything.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab a piece of paper and a pen, and I think for a moment and then I shoot my shot, scribbling the note.
Joshua,
I know this is a little bold, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. If you’re interested, here’s my number,
Molly X
I debate adding ‘your waitress’ in brackets after my name, then decide against it. If he doesn’t know who I am by my name, then he doesn’t get to spend the night with me. I do have some self-respect.
I add my cell phone number to the bottom of the paper and then I stare at the note for a long moment, my heart thudding wildly in my chest. Am I really doing this? This isn’t me. I don’t chase after men.
But something about him makes me want to break my own rules.
Before I lose my nerve, I get up and get ready, and then I slip out of my room, go down in the elevator and walk along the hallway to his room. The resort is quiet now, most of the guests either asleep or still gambling away their money downstairs. I reach his door, hesitate for only a second, then slide the note underneath it.
My heart is still racing when I get back to my room. I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone, waiting. Hoping. Nothing. I try not to lose hope. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to see me, it could mean he’s out for breakfast, or he’s still asleep.
I don’t know how much time passes, but I have almost given up hope when my cell phone vibrates. I’m instantly awake, sitting up and grabbing my cell phone. I have a text from an unknown number, and I get goosebumps on my skin as I open the message.
Hey, I think you might have the wrong room. We just checked in.
I freeze. My stomach drops and I feel like kicking myself. Fucking hell. I left it too late.
I flop back onto the bed, groaning into my pillow. This is why I don’t take risks. Because when I do, they backfirespectacularly. The only thing that saves me from having a total meltdown from embarrassment is that Joshua and his friends are gone and it’s not like he got my note and rejected me and now I have to see him again.
But Joshua is gone. My shift this afternoon is going to be a lot less enjoyable than my last few shifts have been.
CHAPTER 2
JOSHUA
I can’t stop thinkingabout her. Molly. Damn she got under my skin in a way that no one has ever done for a long, long time.
It’s my last night at Caesar’s Palace, and instead of enjoying it, I’m restless. Molly has been in my head since the moment she walked up to our table on our first night here with that sharp wit and those bright green eyes. Her flaming red hair made her stand out from the crowd, but I think it was more than that. There is just something about her that draws me to her.
I should have asked her for her number. Hell, I should have asked her to spend the weekend with me. Mark, the groom to be, would have gotten over it and the rest of the guys wouldn’t have cared one way or the other. But like an idiot, I kept waiting for the right moment, and now I’m almost out of time.
I head down to the restaurant, hoping I’ll see her. My chest tightens as I scan the floor and the area behind the bar, but she’s not here. I spot the other waitress who was working with her yesterday and I wave her over. She comes over to me and smiles.
“Good evening, Sir, what can I get you?” she asks.
“Actually, I just wanted to ask you something. That waitress who was here yesterday, the one with the red hair. Is she working tonight?” I ask. I refrain from using Molly’s name because I don’t want to then have to admit that I don’t know any of the other staff’s names if it comes up.
“It’s her day off today. She’s back in tomorrow afternoon,” a blonde waitress calls.
I thank her, which I guess is a weird response to bad news, but there you go. It’s the news I was dreading when I couldn’t see her around anywhere; she’s off work tonight, and she’s not back in until the afternoon after that. By then, I’ll be gone.
The realization that I’ve missed my chance to even say goodbye to her, let alone anything else, sinks in like a weight in my stomach. This isn’t just some fleeting attraction. I’ve had those before. This is different. It’s like the universe threw us together for some reason. And the fact that I will probably never see her again makes my skin itch with frustration. God, how has she done this to me? How has she gotten so deeply under my skin?
