Shimmy Bang Sparkle(75)
I pulled Stella even closer and pushed her blonde hair aside and gave her a kiss on the side of the neck, right underneath her ear. The spot that made her shiver. “Tomorrow, we work,” I growled into her ear. “But for tonight, we play.”
She shivered, nuzzled against me, and said, “Now you’re talking.”
The waitress came by and gave a little cough. Stella pulled away and smoothed her wig, smiling—all shy and sweet as ever. “Congratulations on your honeymoon, Mr. and Mrs. McNamara. Can I get you a glass of champagne to start?”
To start. To start the night, to start this last job, and to start something much bigger and much more important. With Stella.
35
STELLA
The sheikh was insufferable. He was seated across the restaurant, with his back to us. He sent his steak back twice, sent his lobster back three times, then got behind the bar to show the bartender how to make a Moscow mule.
“Fucker’s lucky it’s not me behind the bar,” Nick muttered. “I’d coldcock him with that copper mug before he knew what hit him.”
The sheikh threw a cherry up in the air and tried to catch it. It ricocheted off his lip and landed in the olives.
But even in spite of his nonsense, we had a perfectly wonderful night. It was amazing to me. I was as comfortable with him drinking sangria out of plastic cups in my favorite spot in the world as I was across a white tablecloth from him, drinking wine from balloon glasses. I was as much myself with him in my element as I was out of it. He made me feel like as long as we were together, we were fine, no matter what. For an instant, as I watched him sign the bill, adding an eye-popping tip in cash, I thought about Ruth’s favorite saying. She had a journal, a poster, a hoodie, and three water bottles that said it: A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.
Until Nick came along, I’d agreed. But, I thought as I finished off the last of my sweet port, he made this fish really glad that there was a bicycle for her in the world.
He closed the small leather folder with the receipt and the cash and tucked it under his napkin and stood. I moved to stand as well, but he held out a finger in the air to stop me. “No you don’t,” he said, and came around to pull my chair back for me. “As long as you’re with me, you’ll never do that for yourself again.”
Maybe it was the champagne or the wine or the port or the intoxicating newness of being in a magical place with someone I was falling for, but in that moment I honestly didn’t mind if all our well-laid plans for tomorrow failed. I didn’t care if we went back to the Love Boat with the resin North Star instead of the real one. It wouldn’t be a failure, even then, because this was real. This was happening. This man was, minute by minute, inching his way into my heart. And making me feel more beautiful, special, and safe than I ever had before.
Hand in hand and barefoot, we walked the half mile down the beach back to the Ritz. The hissing waves kissed my toes, and I looked back to see our footprints, side by side. Back at the hotel, we made our way across the lobby, toward where the lady at Yappy Hour had told us Priscilla would be when we finished dinner. It was set up a little bit like a nursery, only with squeaky toys and dog beds scattered everywhere. In the middle of it all lay a huge white polar bear of a dog, as big as a person or a smallish cow. He was sprawled out on his side, sound asleep. His jowls pooled in droopy piles on the carpet, and his chest rose and fell dramatically as he breathed. Then I noticed that tucked in a tiny ball underneath his chin, rolled up like a furry little roly-poly, was Priscilla.
“Oh my goodness,” I said, taking out my phone to snap a few photos, while Nick’s grip on my free hand tightened.
“I really hope his name is Elvis,” Nick said, peering with me through the glass.
The lady who was supervising the dog nursery stood up from the couch and crept across the floor, careful not to disturb the sleeping bear-dog or Priscilla, who were the only two there.
“Hi!” she whispered as she came out into the corner of the lobby. As she closed the door, Priscilla was roused from her nap, but only briefly. When she snuggled back to sleep, she placed her face on the huge dog’s face, and I watched her little eyes slide shut.
“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” I said. “And I’m a big fan of cute animal videos.”
The dog sitter laughed. “They played tug-of-war for like an hour. He let her win every time.”
“That’s my girl!” I said, and Nick snickered next to me.
“She’s out cold if you two want to go have a drink or walk the beach or something.”
I looked up at Nick, who now had a very naughty glint in his eye. All that desire sent a prickle right up my body. I pulled my eyes off him—it was agony—and made myself focus on the dog sitter again.
“Really?”
She nodded. “They had so much fun. So take your time.”
Nick and I agreed, with a silent glance between us, and the dog sitter clapped her hands. “Oh goodie. She’s really easy. I love looking after her. She’s got good parents!”
He gripped my hand a little tighter, and my toes curled inside my heels. Gaaaaaaaaah!
We agreed to come back in a few hours and turned around, hand in hand. I began to head for the beachfront, ready to kick off my shoes, but he stopped me and pulled me to him. “We’re not going for a walk on the beach, Stella.”