“Every day we wait adds to the risk. We need to call an emergency board meeting on Monday. We’re here in Las Vegas. We could get married tonight or in the morning.”
“Too fast. I don’t rush into things. Not doing anything until we get back to Chicago.”
“If we wait and get a license in Illinois on Monday, the earliest we could get married is Tuesday. Anything could happen in forty-eight hours.”
Branson was already shaking his head. It felt like someone was pushing him toward the edge of a cliff. “No. The answer is no.”
“Why can’t we at least keep our options open while you call and talk to your attorney? You’ve got nothing to lose. Come with me to get a marriage license before the office closes. Dad’s people researched everything. It only takes five minutes to get one in Las Vegas, and they’re open ‘til midnight.”
“No use. I’m not getting married here.”
“Don’t say no until you talk to your people and confirm what I’m saying. If you still don’t want to get married in Vegas, we can throw the license away. But you might change your mind. If we get it, at least we’ll have the option. The chapels are open twenty-four hours a day.”
“I don’t want to miss the tournament.”
“We’ll be there and back in fifteen minutes. Finn can come. Please. Do this much for me. Talk to your people, and you can mull it over while you’re at the craps table. I promise I won’t be upset if you still insist on waiting.”
He checked his tactile watch. Nine twenty-two. “Okay. It’s a waste of time, but I’ll go.”
“Thank you.” Her hand slid across the back of his neck. A swell of the nauseating perfume preceded the kiss she planted on his cheek. “Wait here. I’ll grab Finn.”
“Carina! Wait!”
“Be right back,” called her receding voice.
His rib muscles contracted, refusing to allow his lungs to expand. Abandoned. Strange surroundings. He couldn’t even find a restroom without the help of a stranger. He gripped the arm of the couch and fought back the threatening panic, blood pounding in his ears. I’m not alone. My friends will be here any minute. Fumbling in his jacket he found his cell phone.
“Call Stephanie,” he rasped from his dry throat. Why did I call her instead of Finn? Or Jarrett? Or Cole? He ought to hang up and call one of the guys, but it was Stephanie’s voice he wanted to hear.
It rang so many times, he thought it would go to voicemail. At last, her sweet voice answered. “Branson?”
“Steph. I… can you find me?”
“Branson? What happened? Where are you?” Her voice shook.
“I don’t know. I can’t remember which way we turned when we came out of the bar.” Why hadn’t he paid attention? That wasn’t like him.
“I don’t know how to find you.” Her words were shrill and panicky, with a catch at the end.
Branson felt like a jerk for scaring her. Why couldn’t he have sat quietly and waited for Carina to come back? It’s not like he was going to be attacked by wolves while sitting in the lobby of a hotel in Vegas.
“Don’t worry, Steph. I’m fine.” He took long, deep breaths, attempting to slow his racing heart. “Carina said she’d be right back. I shouldn’t have called.”
“Carina?” She said the word like it tasted bad. “Carina left you alone somewhere?”
Oh, no. I’ve heard that tone before. She’s peeved. Gotta fix this before she starts a fight. “Yes, but she’s coming right back. I’m fine. Really. I felt like I was suffocating, but now I’m breathing fine. It’s nothing. Just out of practice. Probably missed hearing your voice in my ear.”
“I’m taking care of that right now. I’m turning the mic back on.”
“But we’re talking on the phone.”
“I’m hanging up, so you can’t stop me from doing what I’m about to do.” Stephanie had that grim, forced tone she only used when she was extremely angry.
“What are you going to do?” He was almost afraid to ask.
“Something that might get me fired. But I don’t care.” The phone went dead. After a few seconds, her voice spoke in his ear. “I’m going to give Carina Parker a long-overdue piece of my mind.”
CHAPTER 11
Stephanie’s hands were shaking with barely controlled rage, and every bit of it was targeted on Carina. An hour ago, the woman had kindled her sympathies, playing her like a fool, with the tearful confession that she couldn’t have children because she had a rare heart condition.
“I don’t really hate children,” she’d confessed. “I didn’t want to admit it, but every time I see you, I’m reminded I’ll never be a mother.”
Following MawMaw’s advice, Steph was convinced she’d discovered her adversary’s sad secret. In an instant she’d forgiven Carina’s insults and rude remarks about Ellie. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure that must be awful.”
Carina sniffed. “I felt lucky when Bran and I started dating. I love him so much. Since I can’t have children, I’m going to devote myself to taking care of him. Bran will get a hundred percent of my attention.”
Good point. My attention will always be divided. Ellie has to be my main focus. “I’m so glad you told me this, Carina. I worry about him. Feels good to know you care so much.”
“Willing to give me some advice?” Carina looked from the corner of her eye, appearing nervous, but sincere.
“Guess so. Don’t know why you’d want advice from me.”
“You see, Bran and I get along great in the bedroom—fireworks, every time.”
Carina paused, as if she expected Stephanie to respond, but the thought of Branson sleeping with Carina made her feel like she’d swallowed a pint of castor oil. Struggling to appear unaffected and hoping Carina didn’t intend to share more details, she kept her mouth shut and stared at her feet while they threaded their way through the aisles of slot machines and tables until they were within sight of the entry doors.
