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Chapter Two
Even after all these years of knowing Colby, I couldn’t be trusted to speak full, coherent sentences after happily suffering from his PDG. “Uh, what?”
“If you crave blissful denial, where better to do it than in Vegas? I have to be there for work on Monday anyhow, and after your shitty day, you deserve a fun weekend. Then we can head out to LA, where you can do the serious thinking soon enough.”
I was speechless that he’d do this for me. Briefly I thought of my mother’s reaction if she found out I’d gone off for the weekend with him, but what the hell? As if she needed to know. Wasn’t I entitled to forget about my problems for a couple of days? And wasn’t I a grown woman? How quickly I forgot that fact when I was at home. Most importantly, this could well be the last opportunity to spend alone time with Colby, a final chance to up my game and put things out there once and for all.
“Your silence is freaking me out especially since you always have something to say.”
My mouth curved into a grin. “You’re being serious? We’d fly there now?”
“Hell, yes. My suite has two bedrooms, not to mention a hot tub on the patio. It’s Saturday night, and the three hour time difference works in our favor. If we take off now, we’ll be there by seven o’clock easily and can stay out as late as you wish because the party definitely never stops there. Then tomorrow, I’ll tour you around the city. On Monday I have meetings in the morning, but we can fly back to LA later in the afternoon.”
The tales about Colby in Vegas were absolutely legendary. Not that he or my brother knew half of what I’d overheard throughout the years, but the man had definitely earned his reputed manwhore stripes in Sin City. If I was looking for a mind-numbing good time, rumor was there was no one better to go with.
Once we got out of the car, Colby greeted a man who took the keys and then spoke with another man who evidently was the pilot. He didn’t appear fazed when Colby told him he needed to take off a couple hours earlier than planned.
Finally, after dealing with the logistics, Colby went around to the trunk and pulled out our suitcases. “I’ll call Marcia, my hotel concierge, once we board and tell her your size. She’ll get you a party dress for tonight.”
Sometimes I forgot how wealthy he was. His father had started Gamble Enterprises, which included the advertising agency that his older brother, Josh, oversaw and for which my brother Brian worked. There was also a real estate business, which had started with their flagship hotel in Vegas and expanded to several properties in Mexico. And then there was Colby’s pride and joy: his movie production company based in Los Angeles. I’d once read the group of companies were worth over twenty billion dollars, but to me, the owners would always be the Singer brothers from next door.
Walking over to where we’d board his private jet, unfortunately, Rebecca’s poisonous words started to cause some doubt. I stopped before taking a step up, causing him to turn toward me and quirk a brow.
“Can we come to an understanding about this trip?”
“About what?” He suddenly looked apprehensive.
“Primarily, does it mean I’m your girlfriend?” I deadpanned.
I immediately regretted my joke when the color drained completely from his face. “Kenz, I—”
“Oh, my God, I was only teasing. But this isn’t a pity trip, right?” Because the last thing I needed was for him to feel sorry for me.
“More like a maybe-you-need-to-clear-your-head-and-think-about-what-it-is-you-want-to-do trip with the assistance of alcohol and yours truly.” He displayed his dimples again. Jesus. How did a girl ever have a chance with those in the equation?
“Okay, so if that’s the case, then you’re saying I’m not getting a chaperone on this trip.”
He lifted his sexy brow again.
“In other words, what if I want to get completely wasted tonight?” I wasn’t typically a heavy drinker, but after the day I’d had, I think I was more than justified in considering the idea.
He smiled mischievously. “Ah, I get it. You want to know if I’m going to let you live it up in Sin City or be a spoilsport.”
I nodded. “Exactly.”
“I’ll even hold your hair back tonight while you puke your guts out, sweetheart. Want to get a tattoo or a piercing? Go for it. I’m totally nonjudging, especially in Vegas.”
Some of my self-confidence was starting to flicker back to life after having taken such blows from my mother and sister-in-law at the party. “So you don’t intend to meet up with hordes of women there and leave me somewhere tonight, right?” There was no way to sugarcoat it: Colby was a player. Women clamored over him for both his looks and his money.
Something akin to regret flashed in his features before he answered. “I shudder to think about the tales you’ve heard, but I promise I’m there with you this weekend. Well, not with you…”
I rolled my eyes, annoyed he’d felt the need to clarify that point. “I get it. But what if I meet a hot guy at a bar, you wouldn’t cockblock me, right?” I didn’t have any intention of doing so, given that I’d have the opportunity to spend time with Colby; however I couldn’t resist wondering what he thought of the idea.
He chuckled. “Technically, I wouldn’t cockblock you, since he’s the one with the co—You know what, girls aren’t supposed to use that term, anyhow. Wait, what are you talking here? Dancing and flirting or taking him back to your room?”
“Dancing and flirting. It takes a guy a lot more than one night to convince me to sleep with him.” Yeah, like a whole lot more. Colby was unaware of my V card, and I intended to keep it that way for now.
He looked relieved, and I tried not to read anything into it.
