Michelle Betham - Shirley Valentine Goes to Vegas

I looked up at him, my eyes once more meeting his. No. This definitely wasn’t a dream. He was very, very real. The fact he was squeezing my hand was telling me just how real he was.

‘I’m fine. I’m just… It’s been a while, that’s all. Since I’ve done this.’

‘Done what? Embarked on a night out with a stranger?’ He’d raised that eyebrow. Again. And my stomach acted accordingly.

‘How do I know you don’t make a habit of this?’ I asked, not realising I’d just voiced my thoughts out loud until I heard the words. Still, I couldn’t take them back now, could I? ‘I mean, you could pick up different women on a regular basis for all I know.’ I figured I might as well get it all off my chest, because it was something I’d been wondering.

He threw me another smile. ‘Come on. Let’s get that drink.’ He didn’t even attempt to answer my question, but what the hell. I wasn’t going to push it.

I clung onto his hand as he led me through some wide double doors into the busy bar, a space that seemed to go on forever – but the view! He hadn’t been wrong about that. The walls surrounding a huge, circular counter in the centre of the room seemed to be made of nothing but pure glass, meaning that everywhere you looked you could see the lights of Las Vegas down below, the city spread out like a colourful blanket. I gasped as I tried to take it all in.What a view! It was utterly mesmerising.

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ He turned to look at me. ‘Just like you, Lana.’

Jesus Christ! I wanted him to say my name over and over again, just keep saying it, because he was making it sound like the sexiest thing in the world right now.

‘Beer!’ It was a statement rather than a question, as if he’d known me for ever.

Okay. One word and the mood could change in an instant, but… Did he know me that well already? All that stuff about fate – maybe he was right. ‘Yes. Please.’ I was grateful for the lovely, comfy couch behind me to sink into as his hand slowly slipped out of mine.

‘I’ll be right back,’ he said, his expression suddenly turning serious. ‘Don’t go anywhere. Okay?’

As if! But all I could do was nod. And stare after him as he walked over to the bar, even though there were servers hovering around all over the place. But I was glad he’d gone over there himself. It gave me a chance to do two things – watch him walk, because he had a swagger I’d never seen on a man before and I was finding it incredibly sexy, and quickly text Finn to let him know what was happening. I didn’t want him sending out a search party.

Less than two seconds after pressing send on that text my phone rang. I quickly answered it. ‘You decided to take that chance, then,’ Finn said.

I looked over at the bar. Eddie was talking to the bartender, smiling and laughing, pushing a hand back through his hair and I watched as it fell forward again almost immediately. ‘Yeah. What the hell, huh?’

‘That’s my girl. Just be yourself, beautiful. Okay? And try and enjoy the night.’

I sighed quietly, my eyes still on Eddie. ‘He knew what to get me from the bar without even asking.’

‘Nothing a ridiculous shade of orange, then?’ Finn deadpanned.

I finally pulled my gaze away from Eddie. I didn’t want to be caught staring again. ‘No. Nothing a ridiculous shade of orange… He’s coming back! I’ll call you later.’

‘If you need us…’

‘I’ll be fine.’ I ended the call, quickly throwing my phone back into my bag.

Eddie sat down on the chair to my left, handing me a bottle of beer. ‘I didn’t get you a glass. Do you want one?’

‘Do I look like the kind of woman who needs a glass?’

He smiled. I was fast becoming addicted to that smile of his. There was something safe about it, almost. Something warm and comforting, which was a little bit at odds with the way he looked – that rough-around-the-edges exterior he displayed with the messed-up hair and beard; those dark, almost dangerous eyes. ‘You sure you’re okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ I replied, taking a quick drink of beer, thankful for the small but significant hit it gave me.

He leant forward, resting his elbows on his slightly open knees. ‘So, shall we start getting to know one another?’

All those nerves had gone now. In fact, I was feeling more relaxed than I had in a long time. ‘You look like a bit of a bad boy to me.’ Possibly too relaxed, because I wasn’t entirely sure I’d meant to say that out loud. But he did have that aura about him; the way he looked, the way he dressed. Even the way he spoke.

He laughed quietly. ‘I think “boy” might be pushing it a bit, darlin’, but… Does that put you off?’

Quite the opposite, actually, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. And at almost forty years old I should probably be past the whole “bad boy” thing but, hey, I’d lived with a good guy for way too long. Was it so wrong to fancy a change? ‘Would it matter if it did?’

He narrowed those beautiful dark eyes of his as he looked straight at me. ‘My name’s Eddie Fletcher, I’m forty-seven years old and I own a motorcycle shop in downtown Las Vegas. I live not far from the Strip in a place called Rancho Oakey, own two Harleys, ride regularly, hang out at biker bars and my MC clubhouse. I like beer and Mexican food, and can’t stand jazz music. And lastly, I’m still hanging around this hotel, instead of just going home, because I was hoping to see you .’

I blinked a few times, trying to take it all in; where I was, everything that was happening. But none of it was easy. I still felt as though I’d suddenly stepped into some kind of weird and unfamiliar parallel world that I wasn’t altogether sure I should be a part of.

‘You don’t have to tell me anything about yourself,’ Eddie went on, his voice shaking me back to the here and now. ‘But, you know, I’d quite like to find out a little bit more about you.’

I stared down at my beer, closing my eyes for a second before I looked back up at him, fixing a smile on my face. ‘Let’s just say I’ve left a lot behind, and I’m starting again.’

He looked at me – right at me – for a few, long seconds. Long enough for my heart to start knocking out a fast and heavy rhythm, pounding away inside me like some pulsating drum. If I’d been standing up I might well have felt faint, but as I was sitting down I just felt a little light-headed.

‘There really is something about you, Lana…’ The smile he gave me seemed to send a wave of calm washing over me. Like I’d just had a shot of something warm and relaxing, and I found my confidence returning.

Putting my beer down on the table in front of us I curled my legs up underneath me, resting my elbow on the arm of the couch as I looked at him. ‘You live here in Vegas?’

He nodded. ‘Have done for over fifteen years now.’

That explained the slight hint of US twang in his accent. I hadn’t really noticed it earlier today, but tonight it was coming through a little more.

‘Came over for a bikers’ convention, and I never went home.’

He didn’t seem in a hurry to offer up any more information, and I wasn’t going to push it. I’d hardly been forthcoming with mine.

‘You said something, this morning, about fate,’ I said, staring straight at him. ‘Do you really believe in all that?’

He shrugged, taking another drink. ‘ You obviously don’t.’

‘We’re not talking about me. And I told you, I’m cynical.’

His eyes were still locked with mine and for a few seconds nobody said anything. But it didn’t feel like one of those awkward silences, and that was weird, in a way, given how long we’d known each other. Which was all of five minutes.