I yawn.
Jake says, “Your big man wear you out?”
Why is he even sitting next to me? Shouldn’t he be sitting with the other bigwigs down in front?
I glare at him. Without our partners here to keep up appearances, I don’t have to be any nicer to him than I am at the office. He grins like he knows he’s getting under my skin.
From there, it’s an endless onslaught of meetings and talks about where we’re headed, how we’re going to get there, and why our new and improved benefits package means I can afford all the treatment I’ll need for my bleeding ulcers when the fiscal year is over.
I want to crawl into bed and sleep for a million years.
But when I get back to the room, Gordo’s waiting for me. He’s still in the clothes from this morning. I make a point of not asking him about them.
Mercifully, my luggage is there too.
“Oh, thank God.” I caress it like I’ve been reunited with a lost child after a shipwreck.
“Come on, Bailey.” Gordo’s practically hopping from foot to foot. “Let’s go to the pool. It’s time!”
I lug my suitcase onto the bed and open it up, checking for damage or missing items. “Time for what?”
When he doesn’t answer, I check over my shoulder. He’s got a massive grin on.
Fine. Whatever. He’s excited and I was a dick to him this morning, so if he wants to hang out by the pool, we will. I find my trunks and try not to be shy when I get out of my work clothes while Gordo’s in the room. We’ve seen each other naked before. It’s inevitable when you live together. But it’s always quick glimpses before someone closes a door or darts into a bedroom. I’ve never undressed in front of him.
But maybe I’m feeling weird about it because of last night.
The pool is typical Vegas. Sprawling, perfect aqua, with an army’s worth of loungers and umbrellas around it.
I head straight for the two closest to us, but Gordo grabs my hand and pulls me toward the far side of the pool deck.
“This way,” he says.
“What was wrong with those ones?”
He doesn’t answer. He gets like this sometimes. Gordo’s not great at words. He’s good at ideas, but there’s some kind of traffic jam between his brain and his mouth, and the words don’t always come out. I’ve found it’s easier to follow along. Often, whatever he’s got in store is pretty cool. And really, if he wants to pick our pool loungers, I’m fine with that.
When we get to the other side, he spends a long time standing facing the hotel. It’s a giant tower of glass, with the pool nestled in the curve of its concave facade. Gordo’s looking up and squinting, but when I go to sit down, he puts a hand on my shoulder and gently pushes me, so I’m one lounger over. He squints some more. Pushes me one more step to the right.
“Okay,” he says with a smile and settles onto a chair.
“What was that about?” I ask as I spread out a towel.
He grins. “There’s a death ray.”
I nearly leap back to my feet. “A what?”
He tries to explain. Something about the curve of the hotel and the angle of the sun and how the online reviews mention things like melted drink glasses and scorched towels.
“And we’re sitting here why?” I say.
“Because it’s so cool.” He’s ordered a ginger ale and an extra cup of ice, which he’s placed on the little table between us and keeps moving from one position to another while he squints up at the gleaming building above us.
Honestly, most of Gordo’s ideas are good, or entertaining at least, but I’m not real comfortable with the idea that the hotel might incinerate us at any moment.
But as I’m about to suggest we leave the cup of ice to its fate and find somewhere shadier, a voice goes, “Well look who it is,” and my unease gets redirected.
Coming toward us are Jake and Elias. Dammit. I thought we were safe until dinner. Jake’s in slim-fit Hawaiian print board shorts and a pair of obviously designer sunglasses, and Elias is wearing a gauzy purple caftan and gold flip flops. Between Jake’s perfectly sculpted chest and Elias’s swooshy . . . well . . . everything, they’re hard to look away from.
“Oh, hi,” I say, and Gordo waves a hand at them.
“How’s the water?” Jake says with a big smile.
“We haven’t been in yet,” I say.
“We’re waiting for the death ray,” Gordo says, flashing big square teeth.
“The what?” Elias looks nervous. I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, maybe it’ll convince Elias that they need to find seats somewhere else. On the other hand, if Gordo upsets him, I’m sure to hear about it from Jake later.
Gordo explains. Elias looks anxious. Jake looks bored. A poolside server overhears us and stops long enough to reassure Elias that the hotel has a specific reflective coating that means the death ray isn’t actually a thing, and then he takes another round of drink orders. Elias seems relieved as the server departs. Gordo’s annoyed. He dumps the half-melted ice cubes into his ginger ale.
“So, Gordon,” Elias asks as he reclines in the lounger next to him, “what did you get up to today while our menfolk were busy being important?”
“I wandered around. Went shopping. Had a manicure.”
The last one brings me up short. Gordo both is and is not exactly the kind of man I would expect to enjoy a little pampering, but I struggle to picture him wandering into one of the lavish hotel spas here and asking for a treatment.
“Did you have a hard time getting away from the office to come for the long weekend?” Jake asks.
Gordo shakes his head. “Not really.”
“Which division of Rolls-Royce do you work for? I know a couple people who were there for a while after a merger.”
Gordo’s face clouds and my stomach drops all the way to my knees. Oh shit. I forgot about that little lie.
I glance at Jake, and he may be speaking to Gordo, but he’s watching me. That jackass. He knows. He knows I was lying through my teeth, and now he’s waiting to catch me out on it.
“Well actually,” I say, even though I have no idea how to finish that sentence.
“Actually,” Gordo says, “I’ve been functioning in more of a consultant role at Rolls for the last six months or so.”
What?
“Oh really?” Jake leans in, still fishing for opportunity.
“Yes.” Gordo smiles blandly, like he tells people about this all the time. “They bought my patent but asked me to stay on while they finish the design on the new engine controls. I should be done by the end of the year.”
Staring is rude, but what the hell else am I supposed to do? That’s more than I’ve ever heard Gordo speak in a single go, and somehow he knows what I told Jake.
My mouth is open, so to hide my shock I say, “I’m going for a swim. Do you want to come?”
Gordo smiles up at me. “Sounds perfect.”
I hastily strip out of my T-shirt, ignoring the look Jake is giving me. Elias is either asleep on his lounger or pretending we don’t exist. I can’t tell behind his sunglasses, and I don’t actually care.
What I do care about is Gordo, who is currently . . .