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SAVANNAH
After dinner, Nick and I walk back up to our adjacent rooms on the thirtieth floor. Somewhere toward the end of dinner, he turned cool again and I’m not sure why. We started having a good conversation and just when I think he might be nice, after all, he shuts down.
Nick Knight is a moody artist, no doubt about it.
It doesn’t matter, though. We’re only working together for two days and I can totally handle anything he throws at me. If he wants to keep his distance and not joke around or get personal, that’s fine by me. I have enough friends and do not need another one. Especially someone who runs hot and cold. People like that are the worst because you always have to tiptoe around them and never know what to expect.
As I pull out my key, Nick opens his door. “See you at 7,” he mumbles.
“See you,” I say and watch him disappear into his room without so much as a good night or nice meeting you.What a grump.
My call time is actually at 5am and I don’t have the luxury of strolling in two hours later. Right now, though, I plan to soak in the huge bathtub until my skin wrinkles. I pull the La Perla nightgown out of my suitcase and head into the enormous bathroom.
While the tub fills, I pull my hair up into a messy bun and brush my teeth. Then, I wander over and dump some scented bubble bath under the faucet. I’ve never stayed in a hotel this fancy and I figure I may as well enjoy the amenities.
Once it’s full to the brim, I slip into the steaming water and lay my head back.Ohhh, amaze-balls.The hot water smells like sugared-flowers and it helps ease the tension from my meeting with Nick.
Nick Knight. I wish I could stop thinking about him, but I can’t. Since the moment Jazz showed me his picture, he’s infiltrated my head. He isn’t even very nice or cool, yet I can’t seem to forget his silver-gray eyes and the way he just stared at me tonight.
What was he thinking?I wonder. Did he regret taking this job after meeting me? Maybe he thinks I’m a flake or ditzy since I couldn’t stop babbling after introducing myself. He’s just so incredibly handsome, older and talented. I felt completely out of my league the second I walked into the restaurant and met him.
Get it together,I tell myself. You can’t act like some teenage girl swooning over a boy band singer. The moment Nick got snarky, though, I stopped seeing him as this perfect man and for the jerk he was inside.
I suppose as long as he stays cool and aloof, everything will be okay. I won’t fall to pieces every time he lays those metallic eyes on me.
Little do I know…
After my bath, I dry off and slip the La Perla nightgown over my head. It’s soft, silky and completely luxurious. I spritz some of my favorite perfume, Vera Wang’s Princess Night, on and feel just like royalty.
In a sweet cloud of velvety jasmine, vanilla and sugar, I head over to the balcony to check out the nighttime view of Las Vegas. And, it doesn’t disappoint. Lights blink everywhere and this is definitely a city that doesn’t sleep. Crowds of people walk down the boulevard and suddenly the dancing fountain down below at The Bellagio comes to life and music pours through the speakers.
As I lean out over the railing and watch the show, I realize someone else is doing the same thing one balcony over. My heart gives a little stutter and I pull back and out of sight the moment I realize it’s Nick.
“Enjoying the show?” his deep voice asks.
I move closer to the divider that separates our balconies. I can’t see him, but his powerful presence is palpable. “Every time it starts, I come out to watch,” I admit. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
For a moment he doesn’t say anything. Then, “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
I move closer to the privacy wall between us, feeling bolder. He can’t see me and for some reason it’s so much easier to talk to him like this now then it was earlier at the restaurant. “I’m looking forward to working with you. I think your work is brilliant.”
I hear him walk over to the divider, maybe lean a shoulder against it. “Thanks. I, ah, think you're pretty talented yourself.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
I feel a huge smile stretch across my face. “Coming from you, that means a lot.”
As the show below ends, I lean my head against the wall between us and gaze out at the city.
“Goodnight, Savannah,” he says.
“Goodnight, Nick.” I wait for him to move back into his room, but don’t hear anything. A few minutes later, a cool breeze blows over me and my skin breaks out in goosebumps reminding me of the tiny nightgown I’m wearing. I rub the chill from my arms, turn and go back into my room.
As I slide the glass door shut, I finally hear Nick do the same.
The next morning, it takes me ten minutes to Uber down to the Neon Museum. The massive outdoor exhibit has more than 200 signs on display that once adorned the casinos and hotels of vintage Las Vegas. It's like a giant picture book of Vegas history and I’m pumped that we get to shoot here.
