Isaiah.
Two tables away.
I place my hands in my lap, afraid I’m going to knock my glass over.
I hope he doesn’t see me.
Theo stops talking long enough to take a bite of his salad. Fortunately, he’s so caught up in telling the story of himself, he doesn’t notice my inattention.
I smile at him. “That sounds absolutely fascinating.” Though, truthfully, I have no idea what he’s been saying. For all I know, he spent the last few minutes reciting all fifty states and their capitals.
Fortunately for me, he must have spent a few words talking business, because he nods and starts again.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
I glance to my right again. Isaiah is dining with someone I don’t recognize. I strain to see if I can hear what he’s discussing, but it's no use. The dining room is too loud, and if I move my chair closer to the right, Theo will notice.
At the moment, he’s bragging about something his vice president said.
“Unbelievable,” I say, at what I hope is an appropriate time.
He snorts with self-satisfaction, and I risk another glimpse toward Isaiah’s table. At the same time, I try to keep Theo’s attention by pressing my shoe against his lower leg and running my foot up his shin.
And lock eyes with Isaiah.
For one long moment, neither one of us move. Then, his gaze travels to my outfit and flits across the table. Down to rest under the table where my foot still rests on Theo’s calf.
Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no.
Nothing at first, but then understanding dawns, and Isaiah’s mouth drops open. He closes it quickly. I spin my head back to Theo.
“Everything okay?” He glances around the dining room.
The room seems much too quiet.
“Just peachy, Sugar,” I assure him. The me of two weeks earlier would have laughed and ran my hand across the table to subtly brush his fingers. Reassure him. Play him.
But I know Isaiah is watching my every move, so I drop my foot to the floor and give a toss of my head.
“I wonder where our food is?” I ask. Pretend Isaiah isn’t there. “Feels like it’s been ages since we ordered.”
The undercurrent at the table has changed somehow, and even Theo is smart enough to notice.
He looks again in Isaiah’s direction. “Maybe we should leave,” he says.
“Oh, no.” I reach my hand out and then pull it back before it can find purchase with his. “You don’t want to miss the tuna. It’s out of this world.”
He gives one more quick glance around the dining room, scrutinizes my expression, and nods. “Why not,” he says. “We have all the time in the world.” He raises his glass. “To tonight.”
Raise your glass, I tell myself. Raise it.
But my body knows Isaiah is still watching and in my mind, he’ll know exactly what I’m toasting.
Across the table, Theo’s eyes narrow. I fumble for my glass and in doing so, knock it over.
He lets out a string of cuss words and jumps up, dabbing his napkin at the ever-growing wet spot.
“Oh my word,” I say. “Would you look at that? I am such a klutz. At least it’s just water.”
I take a deep breath and draw upon my ten years of experience. Act like you’re in control. Like you know what you’re doing. That everything is going exactly like you planned.
A waiter passes by and I hold out a hand to stop him. “Excuse me,” I say, with a little wink. “I seemed to have knocked my water over. Be a dear and send a busboy over, would you?”
The waiter knows who I am, of course, but since everything in the hotel is one long, drawn-out play, he acts his part, gives a little bow and leaves with a gracious, “Yes, ma’am.”
I turn my attention to Theo. “I am so sorry.”
His expression hints at anger. His eyebrows wrinkle and his nostrils flare. “Well, then,” he says, very serious like. Very dry.Very slowly. “We’ll finish our dinner and you can make it up to me later.”
I sit there and stare into Theo’s You-Will-Make-Up-For-Spilling-Your-Water-And-I-Mean-Good expression, and I tell myself one way or another I am leaving Vegas.
Just play your part. Just play your part, I repeat the lines that have always gotten me through such times in the past. Gradually, I pull myself together. I give Theo my best seductive smile. “Sugar, by the time you close your eyes tonight, you won’t even remember this.”
The busboy shows up right at that second and artfully removes the soiled tablecloth. By the time new linens appear and my glass is refilled, the angry expression leaves Theo’s face. We’re finally alone, and I look to my right again. I first notice Isaiah, because he’s who I’m looking for. But he’s not looking at me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Do you see someone you recognize?” Theo asks.
I snap my head back and mutter curse myself internally. What if Mike had tipped Theo off about Isaiah? That was all I needed. “No. Yes. What?” I stammer.
“At the table over there.” Theo nods his head in Isaiah’s direction. “Something or someone must have caught your attention.”
I curse at myself some more, because not only is Theo pissed, I recognize who Isaiah is talking with.
Mike.
And Mike is watching me. I can handle this situation in various ways. For one, I can pretend I hadn’t seen him, but our gazes had locked over Isaiah’s head, so I’m sure that won’t work. That leaves somehow acknowledging him. And after our time in his office, I know he won’t appreciate bold and sassy.
Subtle and sly it is. And while it was never, ever, acceptable to lie, according to my Granny, all Southern women know the benefits of telling selective truths.
“It was nothing.” I ignore Isaiah and give a quick wink to Mike. “Just someone I thought I knew.”
Theo looks to my right and scans the crowd. I give his leg a gentle push under the table to turn his attention back to me.
“I’m still not sure if it’s anyone I know.” My foot moves further up his leg. I drag the heel of my shoe up his shin. “After all, what does it matter when I’m sitting here with you?”
Theo clears his throat, obviously caught off-guard. “Right,” he says and turns back to his food.
I give myself a pat on the back. Way to defuse the situation. I pretend to take a sip of the wine the waiter inadvertently gave me after replacing the tablecloth.
Mike suddenly appears behind Theo and places a hand on his shoulder. “How’s the dinner tonight?”
I thank my lucky stars I’d only pretended to sip my wine. Had I taken an actual drink, I’d probably spewed it all over myself. I wipe the smug grin off my face, replace it with a dutiful smile, and nod to Theo.
“Theo, Sugar.” Fortunately, my voice doesn’t shake. “How’s dinner so far?”
Theo stands up and shakes Mike’s hand.“We had a little accident earlier, but it’s all been taken care of. And Athena’s assured me the tuna isn’t to be missed.”
“An accident?” Mike raises an eyebrow at me.
“Just a little spill,” Theo replies.
“Do I need to,” Mike looks straight at me, “clean anything up?”
“Oh, no,” Theo answers, clearly missing the hidden subtext. “Your dining staff is superb.”
“Yes,” Mike says. “They are.” The implication, of course, is his escort girls leave a lot to be desired. Theo, however, once again proves he’s not the brightest light in the Vegas sky and completely ignores the subtle jab.
Mike chats with Theo for a few more minutes, and I force myself to look anywhere but in Isaiah’s direction. The diners directly in front of me. The mural on the ceiling. My gaze follows our waiter to our table, and I watch as he places our entrees down. I’m not hungry anymore, and I know my tuna will taste like cardboard.
“I really hate to hear about your spill,” Mike says to Theo. “Dinner’s on the house tonight.”
“Thank you.” Theo pumps Mike’s hand. “That’s very nice of you.”
Mike waves the compliment away. “Just like to see to my customers’ satisfaction.”