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Hank: Stop. All I do is think about what I’m going to do to you.
Sally: Mmmm…
Hank: Can you stay single long enough for me to visit you?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
In the morning, I found the fitness center and ran on the treadmill until sweat ran down my back. Hank hadn’t said he was coming to Vegas. I couldn’t go back to Austin, and he couldn’t leave. A relationship with him was impossible. My heart beat hard as I tried to run off my frustration and depression.
After toweling dry, I wandered through the shops on the casino’s main floor, buying coffee and a particularly irresistible almond croissant stuffed with caramelly custard.
When the pool complex opened at nine, I was waiting at the door with my sporty suit on, goggles in one hand and a swim cap in the other. I went over to the Neptune pool and swam laps while the morning went from already warm to hot.
How do I deal with the stress of a serial killer stalker trying to murder me and a disturbing sex tape forever attached to my name? Exercise and sex. Except the second part of that equation wasn’t at my fingertips.
After forty minutes I got out of the pool, rinsed off, then checked my phone. Amber was awake.
Amber: I’m alive. Sort of. Are you hungry too?
Sally: How about a hedonistic buffet brunch? I’m headed up from the pool now.
Amber: YESSSSSS
After a super-fast shower and moisturizer—because pool water dries you out like nobody’s business—quick hair and light makeup, I put on the sleeveless dress I’d picked out for that day then knocked on the connecting door to Amber’s room. I was slinging my purse strap over my shoulder when the door squeaked open and I realized she was still in her pajamas, one hand over her eyes.
“Oh dear,” I said. “Should we do room service?”
“No.” She coughed a little. “Give me five—I guess I dozed off again.”
I peeked inside her room and saw a seriously rumpled bed. “Can I get you anything, like painkiller and a bottle of juice?”
“Dang—why didn’t I think of that? Yes, please.”
She pulled herself together, if not in usual Amber form, then still good enough to pass. Emerging from the bathroom with her hair in a ponytail and a little makeup on, she managed an almost bright smile at me.
“So,” she said. “Mario.”
I grinned. “Yeah, Mario.”
“We had a pretty awesome time. All night. And again in the morning.”
I stacked my hands primly on my crossed legs. “Was Bob jealous?”
She pointed at me. “No more teasing. Bob had the night off.”
“Well, I’m glad. Bob probably needs a union and a contract.”
“Girl.” She stared up at the ceiling, shaking her head. “Let’s go. I want bacon.”
I led the way down to the Bacchanal Buffet, a hedonistic display of every kind of food you could desire. The eggs Benedict caught my eye, along with fruit, a parfait, and fresh watermelon juice. Amber showed her Texas roots and loaded up on brisket, bacon, fried pork, and big fluffy pancakes.
“What happens now?” She leaned back in her chair and sipped coffee. “With Mario.”
“Isn’t he visiting his parents?”
“Yeah, he is. They’re retired here. He said something about a birthday party, tomorrow I think.”
“Well, I have a cabana rented for us at an adult-only pool party for the evening. We also have go anytime tickets for the Big Bus Tour, which runs all day and a couple times at night. Should we do the tour this afternoon then head down to the pool?”
