Vacation in Vegas Read online

  Lachlan pocketed the card and the man left, the door closing with a soft click behind him. Moving to the window with the extraordinary view, he folded his arms. He’d done the best he could by Sarah, all these years. He’d tried to set an example for her, taking the high road and turning the other cheek when people had wronged them. He’d tried to teach Sarah to rise above and be the better person.

  An image of the woman from the hotel room filled Lachlan’s head, and all thoughts of being the better person flew right out the window. How could it be that he lived in a world where a woman could hurl false accusations at a man and get away with it without consequence?

  CHAPTER THREE

  “You did what?” Amber screamed on the computer screen. She leaned forward, her face all scrunched up and blurry.

  Emma grinned as she stretched out on the enormous bed in her new room and balanced her laptop on her legs. “I thought he was a thief who had broken into my room.”

  Tash leaned in, pushing Amber aside. “Who was he?”

  “I don’t know. Another guest. Somehow they allocated us the same room at the same time.”

  “What did he look like?”

  On Emma’s screen, Amber rested her head on Tash’s shoulder and a pang of homesickness touched Emma’s heart. This was her first trip away from home since university and she missed her friends more than she’d thought possible. They’d always done everything together, ever since they were eight years old and ran around their small neighbourhood in suburban Australia.

  But coming to Las Vegas was something Emma had had to do, alone.

  “He looked like a man who’d just come out of the shower.” Emma’s voice trailed off as she remembered the droplets of water sliding down his tanned, smooth chest and those spiky black eye lashes. Oh, how she loved a man’s eyelashes.

  Her stomach gurgled but whether it was due to hunger or nerves she couldn’t be sure.

  “He has to be single.” Amber argued with Tash. “He was by himself, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah, but he could have been there on business or something.” Tash said.

  “Hey, I’m going to sign off.” Emma stifled a yawn. “My body has no idea what time it is so I’m going to eat and then try and get some much-needed sleep. I’ll call again in a few days.”

  Standing and stretching, Emma shook off her tiredness. She was in Las Vegas, for heaven’s sake. This was the first time she’d been overseas and she wasn’t going to waste another minute sitting in her hotel room feeling sorry for herself.

  She quickly found a change of clothes in her suitcase and took them into the bathroom. Then, she went back to the desk and picked up the chair and wedged it firmly beneath the handle of the entry door. Just because she had a new room didn’t mean someone else couldn’t walk in and surprise her. Feeling a little more secure, she showered. The warm water cascaded down her shoulders, easing some of the tension and washing away the stress of the day.

  The bathroom was even more magnificent than the bedroom. The glossy marble tiles shone beneath the bright bathroom lights. A full-size tub sat the length of one wall. A two-basin vanity complete with marble bench oozed the kind of luxury Emma wasn’t accustomed to, and the mirror reflected every glossy surface. The toilet even had a phone on the wall!

  Emma showered, and drying off with the plush white towel, she reapplied her make-up and brushed the tangles out of her hair. She dressed in fresh clothes then plucked her purse off the entertainment unit. She removed the chair from beneath the door handle and put it back at the desk. The guard had slid the key card into the socket which ran the electricity for the room when she’d brought Emma to the room, so Emma grabbed it as well and headed downstairs.

  Every guidebook Emma had read before leaving home all said the same thing: the dancing fountain was the highlight of any trip to Vegas. Though the hotel was five-star and even its cheapest room was more than she could afford, Emma had chosen to stay at this hotel for one reason.

  Her sister, Michelle, was coming to do a photo shoot here for a fashion magazine.

  Emma remembered the day Dad and Michelle had left like it was yesterday. She’d been seven years old and heartbroken, with tears streaming down her face as they’d driven away; Michelle hanging out of the passenger seat window, waving like a lunatic until the car rounded the corner and vanished from sight. Michelle was four years older but the sisters had been close. She had been a wonderful big sister, always looking out for Emma and holding her hand when they crossed the street. She’d never been embarrassed or impatient when Emma couldn’t keep up.

  Michelle was beautiful, even as a child. She had something, even then, that made people stop and stare when they were out. When she’d been discovered by a modelling agency at the local shopping centre, their parents had disagreed over it.

  Emma still remembered hiding in the hallway after she’d been sent to bed, listening to her parents argue: her mother dead against it, her father encouraging the opportunity because who knew if she’d ever get another one?

  Her father had won and taken Michelle, and Emma hadn’t seen her sister in twenty years.

  The elevator doors opened and Emma stepped into the lift and pressed the button for the ground floor. She watched the numbers count down until the lift glided to a stop and the doors opened, revealing a fancy foyer area.

  It was a hive of activity—guests dragging suitcases in and out, peals of laughter and a steady hum of chatting voices. Security guards stood at the entry to the small room of elevators, checking key cards and preventing anyone who wasn’t a guest staying at the hotel from accessing the elevators, and therefore the hotel rooms.

  Her cheeks heated as she nodded at the nearest guard. She should have realised at the time that her intruder wasn’t a thief, but she hadn’t been thinking straight. Exhausted and suffering her first case of jetlag, her mind had jumped to what she’d considered the most obvious conclusion. Wasn’t she always teaching her kids not to jump to conclusions? To weigh all the evidence before making an assessment? Some teacher she was. She’d failed spectacularly.

  The poor man had seemed to have gotten just as big a fright as Emma had, but she’d been too panicked to see it at the time.

  What would her sister have done? Michelle would no doubt have laughed and turned the situation to her advantage, instead of reacting like a prudish waif. She would have thrown back the cover on the bed, raised a seductive eyebrow and said, “care to join me?”

  But Emma wasn’t her sister and this was another reminder that her life had been sheltered. What little she remembered of her sister was that Michelle had the sparkling personality. Michelle was the adventurous one; the beautiful one. Everyone had said so.

  Michelle would have seen the male intruder as an opportunity for some fun; Emma saw him as a serial killer.

  She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks.

  The corridor leading back to the check-in desk was carpeted and wide with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the pool area. People brushed past Emma in both directions. Accents she couldn’t identify drifted past, again reminding her just how far she was from home.

  Emma stepped to the side of the wide corridor nearer the windows and away from the fray of other guests. She paused as she stared out at the beautiful, exquisite gardens. Discreet lighting highlighted neatly cropped hedges. Ornate concrete pots were filled with topiary trees, and she even spotted a few rosebushes boasting white flowers. White marble pillars and red and sandstone paving stones lined the pool area. Sun-lounges filled every space. And the pools! She counted at least five, and two even had fountains! She could well believe she’d stepped into a private, Italian villa. It was the perfect site for a photo shoot and Emma would investigate the area further to find the best place to carry out her plan.

  The hotel was enormous. Walking at a leisurely pace, it took Emma four minutes to reach the check-in area. She passed a chocolate confectioner with an amazing floor to ceiling chocolate fountain and another shop which onl
y sold Christmas decorations. That was amazing, since it was only July. But maybe she’d purchase something as a memento of her first overseas vacation.

  Reaching the reception area, Emma stood to the side to avoid getting in the way of everyone who seemed to know where they were going, and took a moment to get her bearings.

  Near the check-in desk was a small but fancy sandwich board with a sign announcing that the pool area would be closed for five hours on Wednesday morning. No details were given other than a small apology.

  Remembering her reason for coming to Vegas in the first place, Emma straightened her back. She would do this. She would somehow get access to the pool area on Wednesday, find Michelle and reconnect with her long-lost sister. A flutter filled her stomach and she took a deep breath.

  She’d missed her sister so much over the years. She couldn’t wait to spend some time catching up.

  A group of guests had stopped in the foyer and were staring at the ceiling. Emma followed their gaze. The most elaborate artwork she’d ever seen adorned the ceiling. Huge glass blown flowers in every colour of the rainbow glistened under bright lights. How had she missed that on her way in? Possibly because she’d been hungover with jetlag and just intent on getting to her room in order to sleep.

  Emma pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. Amber was the artist and she’d absolutely love that.

  Opposite the check-in counter, the casino area flashed with neon lights and electronic music. An area crowded with happy patrons and loud voices caught Emma’s attention. A bar! Her lips were dry; her mouth parched. Sitting alone in a bar was something she’d never done before but she’d come on this trip for new experiences.

  It was time to start having them.

  She made her way through the crowds of people occupying the tables at the bar and slid into a tight space at the counter.

  “What’ll you have?” The bartender’s drawl distracted her for a moment as she glanced around.

  Hmm, what to have? “House white, please.” The words were automatic and Emma wished she could claw them back as the bartender turned to pour her glass. She was in Las Vegas, city of sin. No one ordered the house white.

  The bar tender placed Emma’s glass of wine in front of her and named the price. Tipping was customary but she didn’t really know how to do it. She’d seen guests slip a tip across to the concierge by way of a handshake but didn’t think that would really work here. Sucking in a breath, she leaned forward. “Um, this is your tip, thank you.”

  The bar tender grinned as he took the money. ‘Thanks, hon.”

  Emma sat back and exhaled. Well. A clumsy attempt, but it was done. She’d get better at it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lachlan dropped a tip on the crowded bar and picked up his glass of whiskey. He wasn’t a drinker by normal standards—especially as a single father—but after the afternoon he’d just had, no one could begrudge him a sip of the smooth, amber fluid.

  A thief. She’d thought he was robbing her.

  Insane.

  What if those pictures the guests had taken went viral? What if his parents saw it? Granted, they weren’t terribly tech-savvy but all it would take was for someone he knew to see it, and it would spread like wild-fire through his family. Lachlan was solid, at least, that’s what his friends called him. Reliable. Someone to depend on. And he prided himself on his reputation as being that man.

  “Dad!” Sarah’s voice cut through the din and, automatically, his head turned.

  His nineteen-year-old daughter, his pride and joy, slipped through the crowd and into his arms. He’d never got used to seeing another human being who had so many of his traits. Sometimes he found himself watching his daughter with sheer amazement. She had the same colour hair, the same almond shaped eyes. Even her olive skin tone matched his. Daphne’s genes—like Daphne herself—were mostly absent.

  Pride filled Lachlan’s chest as he wrapped his free arm around her and kissed her temple. “Hi, sweetheart.”

  Sarah’s dark hair was pulled into an elegant up-do and the red sequined dress she wore sparkled and shimmered under the lights. Across one slender shoulder a silver sash proclaimed, ‘I’m the bride!’.

  They’d made it.

  Lachlan hadn’t planned on becoming a father at eighteen. But he was a Spencer and Spencers took responsibility for their actions. He’d thrown away his chance to go to university and follow his dream of being an architect. Instead, he married Daphne, rolled up his sleeves and took a job, sometimes two or three, to provide for his new family.

  It wasn’t all bad.

  There were so many things for which he was grateful. Seeing Sarah come into the world had both completed him and terrified him. He was still a teenager, what did he know about raising a daughter? When Daphne left them two years later, Lachlan was heartbroken but determined to give Sarah the best possible life he could. They’d shared so many firsts. Sarah’s first smile. Her first day of school. Then came her first loose tooth and visit from the Tooth Fairy. The first time she rode her bike without help as he ran alongside ready to catch her if she fell. Her first day of high school.

  With shocking clarity, he remembered the day she’d come home from school in tears.

  Lachlan had just finished vacuuming when Sarah burst through the door, tears streaking down her face.

  “Honey? What’s wrong?” Panic surged through Lachlan’s veins at the sight of his daughter in distress. “Are you hurt?”

  Sarah shook her head but wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight, burying her face against his waist. Her body quivered as she tried to hold back her sobs.

  “It’s okay, honey. Everything’s going to be alright.” But was it? How could it be when she was so upset and he had no clue what had happened?

  He rubbed her back in long, gentle strokes until the quivering eased.

  Sarah sucked in a heaving breath.

  “Can you talk about it?”

  “Miranda s-said I can’t s-sit with them anymore.” Sarah squeezed tighter.

  Relief was instant, followed by a tidal surge of anger directed at Sarah’s friend. He’d met Miranda. She’d even been over a couple of times, and each time she’d struck Lachlan as being petty and self-absorbed. Pretty, yes, but she was a stuck-up, entitled little brat whose parents bought her everything her heart desired to make up for their busy lifestyle and not spending time with their only child.

  Lachlan had tried to keep an open mind. If Sarah thought she was worth spending time with, Lachlan tried not to judge. But he’d been wary. And rightly so, by the state Sarah was in now.

  Finally, Sarah pulled back and wiped her eyes. Lachlan handed her his handkerchief and she blew her nose.

  “I’m sorry about that, honey.” He stroked her hair. “I think this calls for some ice-cream, huh?”

  Sarah didn’t smile but she nodded.

  “Why don’t you go and wash your face and get changed, and we’ll go and find the biggest, bestest ice-cream we can, okay?”

  Her lips quirked and she went into the bathroom.

  Lachlan rang his mother.

  “Ma? Everything’s okay, but do you think you could stay with Sarah tonight while I’m at work? She’s had kind of a rough day.”

  “I can come now. Give me ten minutes.”

  “We’re going out for ice-cream. I’ve got two hours before I have to be at work but could you come around six?”

  “Of course, dear. Don’t you worry about a thing. Sarah and I will have a girl’s night and gossip and watch movies.”

  “Thanks, Ma. You’re the best.”

  When Sarah came out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of denim shorts and a t-shirt, Lachlan grabbed the keys. They drove until they found an ice-cream shop down at the beach, and then afterwards, walked along the sand and watched the seagulls.

  He didn’t have the answers, as much as he wished he did. With each passing year, he was learning that he couldn’t fight all of Sarah’s battles or solve all of her problems.
It was perhaps the bitterest pill he had to swallow.

  “This was great, Dad.” Sarah gave him a smile and the tension in his body dissolved. “I needed it.”

  “I’m glad, honey.”

  In the car on the way home, he glanced across at his unusually quiet daughter. “What are you doing to do tomorrow?”

  Sarah shrugged. “I’m just going to be the same as I was today. If Miranda doesn’t want to be friends, there’s nothing I can do about it. But I’m not going to mean, like her, just to be able to sit with them. I’d rather sit by myself.”

  Pride swelled in Lachlan’s heart. “You’ll make other friends, honey. I know it’s not easy.” He reached over to squeeze her hands. “It hurts now, I’m not saying it doesn’t, but it won’t last forever. You’ll make new friends and they’ll be so nice and you’ll have so much fun that Miranda will be begging to sit with you.”

  Sarah’s smile was like a rainbow.

  Now, Lachlan’s gaze drifted over to Sarah and her group of girlfriends—no Miranda in sight—and he smiled.

  Now, here they were—just the two of them—and his baby was getting married.

  When Sarah had started dating Gene two years ago, Lachlan bit his tongue. Gene, the American on a student exchange program to Australia who seemed so much more mature than the boys in Sarah’s school, was on Lachlan’s radar from the first moment he’d seen him. But he was actually a nice guy. He had better manners than any boy Lachlan had met—please and thank you, and yes, sir. As much as Lachlan had wanted to find fault with the guy, Gene treated Sarah like a princess.

  When they announced their engagement a few months after graduation, Lachlan nearly fainted. He’d wanted to warn Sarah against getting too serious too early—he wanted more for her than to be a single parent at twenty-one, like he’d been—but he’d raised his daughter to know her own mind and heart, and now he had to take a step back and trust that he’d done the best he could. It was easier said than done. For the last eighteen years, Sarah had been his priority. Every single decision he’d made had been for her. Now he had to get used to living—and being—alone. He’d never lived alone before. He’d gone straight from his parents’ house to their garage, converted into a tiny unit for his new family.