Shimmy Bang Sparkle(71)

“By the way, we have dinner plans in town,” Nick said to the concierge. He pulled me close, let me feel the warmth of his body against mine. He placed his massive hand on the small of my back. “I saw on your website you guys have pet sitting, yeah?”

I glanced up at Nick. We hadn’t even discussed that, but knowing he’d been thinking about it, doing some behind-the-scenes research? It was very sexy. I loved a man who came prepared. The concierge swayed his shoulders and beamed. “Oh yes, absolutely. We do. Starting at four.” He produced a square business card, fancy and embossed.

RITZ-CARLTON CORDIALLY WELCOMES YOUR PET TO YAPPY HOUR

That was it. It was official. With Nick by my side and Priscilla in my arms and in-house pet sitting, it was indisputable. “This is paradise.”

“Mmmhmmmm!” said the concierge. “And just wait until you feel the sheets! Heaaaaaven!” He beamed. “Now we’re all set.” He stacked up two room keys and placed them in a small paper folder. This he slid over the shiny wood with one fingertip on the cardstock. “There are your keys. We’ll take your bags. You’re in room 311.”

My heart stopped. Room 311 was wrong.

Room 311 was not the plan. We should’ve been in 319, the room next to the guard’s. Room 311 was not OK. What I really wanted to do was grab the poor concierge by his expertly pressed lapels and say, I’ll give you anything for 319! But instead, I did some quick thinking on my toes. We were a couple. Couples had traditions. “But we stayed in 319 before,” I said, and added, “That was where he proposed.”

The concierge put his hand to his chest. “Oh, how sweet!”

“He’s the best,” I said, and put my head on his shoulder as he tightened his grip on my hip. “Is there any chance we can stay there again? It would mean the world to us.”

The concierge winced and sucked some air through his brilliantly whitened teeth. “Hang on, hang on.”

I held my breath. I crossed my fingers behind my purse. I felt Nick stiffen beside me. The concierge typed away furiously, but then he frowned. “Unfortunately not. We had to shift the schedule this morning. I’m so sorry!”

It took everything in my power to keep the smile on my face. Smile, Stella! Keep smiling! Smile harder! Harder!

But Nick pulled me closer. There was something in his possessive squeeze that said, I’ve got you. I focused on that feeling—that support, that certainty. That knowledge that I wasn’t planning this by myself. We would be OK. We would. Together.

“Room 311 is totally fine,” Nick said. “Thanks.”

“Oh good,” said the concierge, letting his shoulders go slack. “I’ll tell you what. We’ll send you some champagne to make up for it. How does that sound? I’ll make sure it’s something nice and . . .” But suddenly the happiness on his face faded away, and he looked like he’d just smelled a terrible fart. His smile did a slow-motion drop into a disapproving and thin-lipped frown. I followed his gaze over my shoulder.

By the fountain, I spotted him. He was wearing madras shorts and a wildly clashing Hawaiian shirt, along with green-rimmed Ray-Bans and a stripe of yellow zinc oxide on his nose.

The Sheikh Dude, in blinding fluorescent living color.

He was, right that instant, taking a photograph of himself in front of the fountain. He typed something into his phone, then made a Tony the Tiger air punch and spun around like Rocky, as if waiting for applause.

My burner phone buzzed in my pocket. I opened it up so that Nick could see it too. It was Instagram, notifying me of a post. The photo was of the sheikh with his mouth open, carefully positioned so he looked like he was catching a tinkle stream from a chubby marble angel.

About to hit the pool. Check me out! Golden showers for real! #SheikhLife

Nick flared his nostrils and shook his head. He turned away from the concierge and gave Priscilla a scratch behind her ears, and said very softly, “This is gonna be so worth it.”





34

NICK

While Stella took a shower, Priscilla galloped from one corner of the huge king-size bed to the other, flopping and woofing at the enormous down pillows in crisp white cases. After a particularly huge leap, she managed to flip herself over between two pillows and got stuck on her back like a turtle. I had to grab her little paws to help her back up, and she lay like Wonder Woman on her stomach.

Lying down next to her, I propped up my head on a pillow and woke up my phone. Stella didn’t know I’d done it, but I’d grabbed a picture of her as she drove. I had it as my wallpaper and my home screen. She was in profile, with Arizona blurry behind her. Her head was thrown back and she was giggling; as soon as I saw her, I started to smile too. I moved the icons around on my phone so that nothing was over her face. She made things happen inside me I hadn’t felt in years. Maybe ever. Things I didn’t know I ever deserved to feel at all. Gratitude. Peace. Possibility. Hope.

Love. Once-in-a-fucking-lifetime love.

Opening my browser, I looked up land for sale in Arizona on Zillow. From my wallet, I took the receipt from Alvarado Auto and typed in the zip, but I wasn’t looking for the mechanic’s shop. The Big Wide Open was the first listing:

21.5 acre parcel whose east and west edges border Coconino National Forest. 45 minutes to Flagstaff and services. Enjoy quiet high desert beauty and mature pi?on juniper trees. Small ranch house on northwest quadrant, single-story, single-family dwelling. 3 bedroom/2 bath. $410,000.