Last Name - Dr. Rebecca Sharp Page 0,4

way up to the bar inside the Eiffel Tower. “Nope,” I confirmed. “Never been outside of New Jersey before I moved out here.”

“That’s a… big change.”

I swallowed through the tightening of my throat. “Sometimes, you need a big change.”

He nodded with a sincere solidarity that fell over me like a security blanket. “Big changes lead to better things.”

My chest contracted sharply. Pain, like joy, was a universal equalizer. We’d all experienced it. We’d all survived it. And we all recognized when someone else acknowledged the hurt in us by tapping into their own.

“What do you do?” he asked instead of prying.

James’ arm shot out as a large group of drunk college-age guys stumbled and drifted toward me on their way out, almost toppling me over—especially in the four-inch silver heels I’d been talked into wearing.

“It’s just one night, Carrie!”

“I work in hospitality.” I wasn’t going to elaborate, one, because I didn’t know him that well, and two, because I’d only be working in hospitality for only the next couple of days.

A pang hit my stomach. I loved my job. I was the activities director at the Lake Tahoe Casino and Resort on the Nevada side of South Lake Tahoe. I was responsible for all the excursions—from boat rides to hikes to local sights—for the casino. I’d haphazardly landed the job when I moved out here, but it turned out to be everything I needed, and now, I knew it was going to hurt to let it go.

The casino had been taken over by the Arden Group and the official transition began Monday. My position wasn’t critical and it was clear, by the end of the week, I would no longer be working there.

“Me, too,” I heard him say, but I was too focused on scanning the crowd, trying to find my friends, to be able to respond.

Two laps around the nightclub later, James reached for my arm. “You see them?”

I shook my head, reaching for my purse and cell phone once again.

Had to leave! Huge group of drunk guys made it too crowded to wait. Meet us at the canal!

My pitiful groan stumbled to a halt as someone bumped into James from behind and pushed him right up against my back, warmth diffusing through the light fabric of my dress.

I just caught his muffled curse before he asked, “You okay? Are they here?”

I shook my head and swallowed. “No. They left when that group of guys we passed got here.”

I spun to talk to him because it was loud and hard to hear—a mistake when my front came into contact with the hard wall of him.

My lips parted with a small gasp as his jaw ticked. His gaze dropping down to where our bodies met before sliding back up to mine once more. It was easy to pick up the restraint with which he carried himself. But it was also easy to see just how much he wanted me even though he wasn’t going to act on it.

“She said to meet them at the canal…”

“At The Venetian?”

My eyes perked up and nodded. “That must be it.”

When I went to turn, he caught my arm. His head dropped next to my ear. I knew it was so I would be able to hear him except all I could hear was the way my blood pumped like a war drum through my body thundering with desire.

“What’s on the list for here?”

I tilted my head in confusion.

“The scavenger hunt.”

My mouth formed a small ‘O’ as I reached for my purse again. “It’s really okay. I don’t need to—”

“Carrie.” I froze at the way he said my name, as though he were testing it on his tongue. Like an exotic flavor that was too precious to overindulge all at once, but too exquisite to not give himself a small bite.

“You’re not going to spend your first and only night in Vegas just chasing your friends around without enjoying yourself a little,” he told me. “And without getting the points we—you deserve for shuffling around this place—in those heels—twice.”

I wanted to disagree, but I couldn’t. He was right. And I was annoyed that I kept being left behind.

“Chivalrous and competitive,” I noted.

Grabbing the list, I searched for the Paris task.

Have a Frenchman buy you a French 75 martini at the Paris.

My shoulders slumped as I turned the list over to James. We didn’t have time to find a Frenchman. And judging by the way his jaw tightened, he knew it, too.

I took the list back,