Page 46 of Russian Roulette
“He really does. Vulcan is dealing with some…things, so there are times when he needs to be alone. He stays with Kit or me when he’s up to having people around him. He’s made tons of improvement since we met, and he keeps working at it. I hope that one day, he might even move closer to Vegas and try to live like a regular person.”
“What kind of issues is he having?” she asks, a concerned frown on her face. “I hope it’s nothing too serious since you left me in the desert alone with him.”
“That’s up to Vulcan to share with you.” I’m already regretting bringing it up, when I shouldn’t have. Kit and I are both protective of Vulcan and his issues. I certainly don’t want to do anything to make them worse or set his progress back. “Did anything happen with him?”
“No,” she replies. “I was just curious why he needs to live alone in the desert, that’s all.”
I nod, accepting her answer. “Okay, enough about Vulcan.” I grab the cart handles and push it close to the table. “Have a seat while I try to remember how to prepare this drink. There’s a fancy presentation that goes along with it. Somehow, I’m afraid it won’t be nearly as impressive as when the servers at the Pink Elephant do it. Forgive me if this turns out to be lame.”
“Pink Elephant is a funny name for a bar in Vegas,” she remarks, taking a seat at the table. “Cute, but weird.”
“Supposedly, the bar was designed after a children’s book the owner read when he was growing up,” I say. “The bar itself is pretty cool. Maybe some day we’ll be able to check it out in person.”
“I don’t remember any books with pink elephants from my childhood,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Do you?”
My mind goes back to how I grew up, moving from town-to-town with my dad, sleeping in the back of the truck and sneaking showers at truck stops. The closest thing I had to pink elephants were the occasional stray dogs that were hanging around gas stations begging for food scraps.
I don’t tell her this.
“Definitely no pink elephant books in my childhood,” I answer. I pull back the white cloth covering the drinks with a dramatic flourish. “Voila!” I place a massive, oversized martini glass filled with a colorful pink concoction on the table between us. “Here’s your drink. The Cotton Candy Dream House Special. Now all it needs is a little champagne added to it for fizz.”
“Oh, my goodness!” Jade says, her eyes growing wide at the sight of the fishbowl-sized glass filled with colorful liquid and topped with a high stack of fuzzy pink cotton candy. “What do we do with this? When you said one drink, I assumed you meant a normal drink in a glass, not…this.” She waves a hand at the drink. “Whatever this is. Do we eat the cotton candy and chase it with the champagne?” She pinches a piece of the cotton candy off with her fingers and takes a bite. “I love cotton candy and haven’t eaten it in years.”
“The champagne goes over the top,” I tell her, reaching over to pull the champagne bottle from the ice bucket. I pour the champagne over the cotton candy, watching as it bubbles and fizzes, creating a sweet, pink concoction.
“You don’t really expect me to drink this by myself, do you?” she asks. “I wouldn’t be able to walk to bed unassisted.”
“If that happens, I would be more than happy to provide all the assistance you might need.” I say it jokingly, though I mean it too.
She rolls her eyes at me. “I wasn’t flirting with you or being suggestive, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Of course you weren’t,” I tease. “Who would ever accuse you of flirting?”
I grasp one of the two pink-striped straws already placed in the glass. “Don’t worry. The drink is meant to be shared. I would be concerned if you wanted to keep it all to yourself. I can’t afford to have a drunk hanging around wasted or falling off the balcony. Take a sip and tell me if you like it. If not, we can order something else. Or one of every single item on the menu. We’ll try them all. Let’s live dangerously! Oh wait, you already do that.”
She takes a tiny taste and nods. “This is delicious,” she says before taking another long sip. “And refreshing. I’m thirstier than I realized.”
“Go easy,” I warn when she takes another long draw on the straw. “The drink contains more alcohol than you can taste.”
“What’s in it?”
“Vodka, raspberry liqueur, and fresh lime juice,” I say. “Topped with a splash of grenadine for color.”
“Really? That’s an interesting mixture.”
I let out a chuckle. “Honestly, I have no idea what’s in it. There are a few secret ingredients the bartender won’t share with me. I keep asking and he won’t tell. The hotel management made him sign a non-disclosure agreement not to reveal the ingredients since it’s their special signature drink. Can you believe that? Apparently, they don’t want their secret recipe to get out.”
“Everyone in this town keeps secrets,” she says, her big, brown eyes gazing at me over the straw. It would be so easy to get lost in her eyes. “I bet you have a few of your own being a magician.”
“Illusionist,” I correct her with a wink. “Magician sounds cheesy. I prefer illusionist because that’s what it is, really. There’s no magic involved, only tricks.”
“Tell me how you did the trick with the snake and the coins in the casino,” she says. “The trick was impressive, even if I’m still weirded out.”
“You should know better than to ask me to reveal my tricks. A professional never tells their secrets.”
“You won’t tell me how to do your magic tricks and the bartender won’t give up his special cotton candy cocktail recipe,” she says with a teasing grin. “What’s this world coming to?”
“If only those were the biggest secrets this town was keeping,” I say, my voice serious. “At least you’re not hiding any more secrets, right?”
