The Virgin Gift(40)

I set down my bag and laughed from deep within.

Adam tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, you don’t usually laugh like that. What’s up? Because it isn’t Botox.”

I took a beat, my laughter fading. “I didn’t expect this to happen. I wasn’t looking for it. But I had this strange sort of moment.”

“What happened?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, curiosity in his eyes.

I told him about the flight attendant and he nodded, listening thoughtfully. “And that’s what you needed, that sort of permission almost? To move on? Like a final step?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I said, wrapping my head around this morning, understanding it fully now. I tapped my sternum. “I mean, who knows what tomorrow will bring, but I feel this lightness in my chest I haven’t felt in ages.”

“Maybe sometimes all we need are those chance encounters that help us see what we’ve been missing,” he mused.

“Maybe so,” I said, and this was why Adam and I had stayed friends over the years. We could shoot the breeze, talk about business, and dive deep when we needed to. “But enough about me. How can I thank you for letting me crash here?”

A slow grin took over his face, and he ran a hand over his jaw. “Well, there is this one thing.”





23





Nina





The shoot lasted all day, thanks to Vegas traffic.

There were no two ways about it. On convention days, you needed to charter a hot-air balloon to make it anywhere on the Strip in under an hour.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have those kinds of funds.

But I did have fabulous clients, and Chantal—for all her idiosyncrasies and her bed of coins—was one of them.

Because she knew what she wanted. A true lady boss, the olive-skinned beauty laid down the law.

“First, I want a shot of me in the elevator, lost in thought, wearing my little red dress.”

Done.

“Then, I want you to capture me walking down the hallway to the hotel room.”

Check.

“And then, you go into the room and take pictures of me entering the suite, like I’m getting ready for him.”

Finished.

“And finally, I want all the seductive shots of me on the bed.”

And that was where I was now, taking her picture as she posed in a sea of coins, like she owned this moment.

“I’d love it if you could run a hand through your hair with your head falling back,” I told her from behind the lens.

“Like this?”

“Nailed it,” I said, then took those shots.

When I showed her the preview on the back of my camera, she hummed over each and every image. “These are divine. My husband will love them.”

“No doubt he’ll be enthralled.”

“I hope he gets the meaning too,” she said, a little quirk in her lips. “But I know he will.”

“I would love to know the story behind these photos. Will you tell me?”

“We met in Vegas years ago. Here in this hotel. A one-night stand that turned into forever. I want him to see these and know I still want him as much as I did that night when he won one thousand dollars at the slots and took me back to his suite.”

“You’re the true riches,” I said, understanding fully. I learned so much from my clients. Every one, it seemed, had something to impart about femininity, sexuality, or confidence. I had the best job in the world. “And I love that you’re showing him through photos. That you’re communicating your passion through images.”

And she gave me an idea.





At Lily’s home, I pawed through her closet, hunting for a simple dress. She lived closer to the Strip than I did, and I didn’t want to rush back home to change and shower before we met the guys at The Luxe.

“Ooh! Go for the purple one. You always look good in purple,” Kate said from her spot on the bed, nursing a glass of red wine.

“I do love purple, though this one looks a bit skintight,” I said with a wink. “Do you only own dresses that require shoehorns to fit into?”

“Hey! I have some that aren’t.”

Kate snorted. “Maybe one.”

Lily simply shrugged and raised her wine glass to her lips, taking a sip. “I enjoy those dresses.”

“And Finn does too,” Kate chimed in as I sorted through more clothes, stopping at a fuchsia dress with a neckline that dipped to the belly button, leaving little to the imagination.

I held it up. “Trivia question. This little number was on Lily for how much time before Finn ripped it off?”

Kate thrust her hand in the air. “Five minutes!”

Lily mimed hitting a buzzer. “Oh, so sorry. We’re going to need you to phrase that in the form of a question.”

“What is five minutes, Alex?” she asked, as if Lily were the Jeopardy! host.

In a pitch-perfect imitation of the man, Lily replied, “No. The correct answer is What is five seconds?”

I bowed before her. “Impressive. But it does raise the question—why do you ever wear clothes with him?”

“Yes. I’d like to know that too,” Kate put in, kicking her leg back and forth.